#recovering reader
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As a recovering reader myself, I am here to remind you that if you want to read more but are struggling, you have full permission to do any and all of the following:
Read the ending first, or look up the big spoilers.
Read a summary first, or scene by scene.
Skip around passages/come back to them when you're more ready
Watch the movie/read the graphic novel/look at the fanart first to pique your interest
Write/draw/highlight/scrapbook in the book itself (YOU ARE ALLOWED, assuming the book is yours! THIS MAKES IT A LOVED BOOK! You can also tip in pages specifically for this if you want more room - literally run some glue along the edge of a piece of paper, wedge it as deep as you can between two open pages, close the book and let it dry for a couple of minutes, and voila! Blank pages! I promise you ,you will not accidentally glue your book shut.)
Take the book up again even if it's been "too long" and guilt is telling you that you need to start over for some reason.
Listen to audiobooks only - it's real reading!! Reading is absorbing the words the author wrote, whether through a page recreated by a printing press or a page recreated by the sounds of a human voice!
Speed up or slow down the audiobook
Read at your own speed without regard to challenges or comparison
Use a device
Read the words out loud or under your breath
Have fifteen books on the go at once, or just one
Give up on a book that's not working for you at all, and find a fresh one that works better
Never track your reading
Track your reading meticulously and become addicted to your stats
Make reading more social by reading aloud to someone else, blogging your reading, obnoxiously talking your friend's ear off - whatever you like!
And yes, you can also keep your experience spoiler free, read straight through, keep your book in pristine condition, track your stats meticulously etc. etc.! Those are wonderful too. The point is, don't sabotage your reading with "shoulds," be gentle with yourself, and set yourself up to enjoy it. I'm three years into my recovering reader project, and I still have to be gentle with myself about habits I want to embrace but am not quite there yet.
#recovering reader#coreander's old books#Some of these I have done and others are just things I think it might be useful to consider#reading#books
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About your language brainrot. I see your "Reader's writing can't match tyvat's long and flowery writing" and bring you "Tyvat isn't used to books over 50 pages long so a short story to the Reader is a whole dictionary to tyvat readers".
Seriously, have you seen how thin the books are? They don't wrote novels, they write short chapters formatted in the way really old stories are. As in, summarizing all the events down into one smooth story then adding a few quotes. Fanfiction writers are insane. They will willingly sit down and write hundreds of words at a time. To them, a proper modern day story of maybe, oh 10k words or so, would probably be like the Oddessy itself.
If we were to combine the two headcanons. It would end up as many historians being intimidated by this insanely long written scripture in the language of the forgotten.
I'm going to take this a step further and say that if the creator asked some people to proofread their things, it would establish a hiarchy of who is able to actually finish the book the creator read and who isn't.
NOW THIS, THIS IS MY FUCKING JAMMMM
I'm so sorry this is so old!! u probably all know this by this point that I've really slowed down as the year has gone on, but I graduated university and then got my first job so its been pretty crazy!
Sun: Reader (you/they/them)
Orbit: Headcanons-ish
Stars: dash of all the book/nerds of Genshin, heavy on Sumeru?
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Cussing, 16+ Mature Audiences, Spoliers for Sumeru Archon Quests/Scaramouche, & Trigger Warnings: mention of shipping/characters shipping themselves with you.
Comment if any missed, please.
☆
FULL STOP.
THE AKADEMIYA, FONTAINE RESEARCH INSTITUTE, HAVE BEEN WAITTTINNGGGG ON YOUR ASS LMAO
You fall from the fucking sky like a 5 star, or pop out of the Irminsul or whatever
and immediately are mobbed by scholars. LMAO jkjk (not really, bc that's what it’d feel like)
can you even imagine the dread older stories(”the classics” to them), that was instilled in the poor students around Teyvat??
id like to think ur works are the most preserved over the thousands of years of Teyvat archeologists excavating them, in comparison to other authors (teyvat just likes you more, suck it William Shakespeare)
also, bc I cant resist language differences/world building I'm sorryyyy 😭 😭
the vocab of Genshin lang vs. ours, has significantly less vocabulary like their actual dictionary is 1/3 the size of ours type of energy
(Omfg all ur fanfics being considered like insanely long realistic romantic classics or tragedies like Jane Austen-level, and only the richest and biggest play companies put on plays about ur stories bc the script goes on for hours)
(ur plays only get put on for rlly big events bc of this, like Lantern Rite or like a Summer/Winter festival/your birthday, which is, yes, an international holiday)
dude the sheer power move of anything you’ve written being essentially “Journey of the West” to them, like Damnnn.
endless like adaptations, plays, Teyvat-short stories condensing it, (THEIR OWN FANFICTION ABOUT UR STORIES)
the power is, in fact, going to your head every time another scholar both deflates at how long ur stuff is, but also lights up bc they get to read it
speaking of scholars… you know who snatched you up first. you know. you don’t even need to read the next line.
Alhaitham.
sneaky bastard he is, absolutely manipulated, mansplained (and manwhored bc he knows he’s handsome, cheeky little shit) his way into getting you to sit down with him and interview you about both translating other classics, your own, giving your own analysis of others works and ur own, and picking ur brain apart of how/why you wrote urs, etc. its fucking endless,
Kaveh had to come rescue you bc u were starving to death after getting stuck with the Haravatat scholar in his office for nearly 7 hours of interrogation discussion about literature
and Alhaitham wasn't even nearly done, he’d informed you as you left that he already had another appointment for later conversation scheduled (how?? you don't even know ur own schedule??? you have a schedule???) and was looking forward to more of your “creative and enlightening input” :)))
(you’re never going to escape him, not even Nahida herself can save you from his stubborn ass)
On another note, Xingqiu is quaking when you agree to autograph his copy of your stories (of which he has all hard covers of the first edition translations)
Zhongli/Rex Lapis is known for having a near-lifelong passion for searching for your works specifically, and learning how to translate them better into Teyvatian vernacular
like the same way he can absolutely speak on Rex Lapis facts/rocks/adepti info, is the same confidence he speaks about knowing ur work lol
(yes he did also ask for several autographs and another sit-down talk about the works, tho a lot more sneaky then Alhaitham bc he just casually gets u guys into it during dinner)
Barbatos/Venti has written some of the most famous songs based on your stuff, he has his favorites too,
but he always claims the best songs are any that have been written in the story, like either when a character sings something, or there are like quotes from songs ur fanfics are based on lol
(he also demanded to hear what they actually sound like from you, yes, you have to sing them for him lol)
Venti also can surprisingly drunkenly ramble the entirety of at least one of ur stories, like, word for word lmao
(Diluc gave in and did give him a drink on the house for that one, just once, Venti doesn’t remember it lol)
(I forgot to mention, u guys still speak the same language, just like, different versions of it)
ur works being one of the few things all the Archons can freely talk about with each other, like it’s neutral ground bc they’re all fangirling about it lmao
Furina and Neuvillette have had like,, fierce debates over the decades about character dynamics and the general drama of ur stories, they’ve gotten into it enough they’ve stopped talking to each other for a couple days a few times lol
Albedo, Sucrose, Kokomi, Yae Miko, Ei, Raiden, have read every single work they’re gotten their hands on in Teyvat (it took them like a literal year or longer)
Albedo drew you fanart for every single story, bc he’s hyperfixated on everything related to you ngl,
Kokomi had commissioned smaller pocket versions of ur works (which later got popular thanks to Yae Miko) both the OG and the Teyvat shortened versions
THE HARBINGERS ARE THE MOST DOWN BAD LMAO
Childe has literally tried to recreate battle scenes from ur works lmao
and gets especially riled up about fighting someone who resembles any characters from them (esp villains, what a cutie)
You cannot fathom the amount of research throughout Teyvat that has been secretly or indirectly funded by Pantalone/Tsaritsa
from the experts to analyze them, to funding play companies to act them out, to actually excavating places to get more of ur stuff unearthed
(the Harbingers absolutely are the first group of people that got to read several of ur stories first bc of this, like the world’s most exclusive secret book club lol)
Scaramouche used to clown on Childe all the time about how he was too impatient to even “sit down and read the King’s classics”, and he was downright insufferable when he found out about Tartaglia’s habit of recreating battle scenes/that being what motivated him to fight sometimes lol
that being said, Wanderer surprisingly never forgot ur stories.
Even when his memories were wiped for a bit, he found comfort in these fantastical epics still sticking around, even when his old names did not
(he mayyyy or mayyy nottt have secretly namedhimselfafteroneofthetragicprotagonistsherelatesto- )
oh btw, Nahida also found joy and comfort in ur stories when she was trapped, they also helped her literally grow as a person bc she had ur stories to help her sort of process the world/what life was like outside of her dreaming prison 🥺💔❤️🩹
◇
OMFG
ANYWAY FULL TONE SHIFT LMFAO-
the ABSOLUTE SPIRAL-RED-STRING-CONSPIRACY-THEORY-BOARD ENERGY IF THIS WAS A BLUNT LANGUAGE AU LMAOOOO
like specifically how Teyvatians like to give all the context ever thru their words, but older deities/beings like you just do simple phrases that can have deeper meanings (whereas teyvat just explains all the meanings behind their words)
STOP there’s like an official display at the Akademiya and Fontaine Institute of red string theory boards 😭😭 (look what you’ve done to themmm LMAO)
for like every story of urs, INCLUDING THE FANFICS STOP
IMAGINE THE SHIPPING WARS IF U EVER WROTE ONE THAT WASNT EXPLICIT OR LIKE ONE OF THE MAIN ROMANTIC INTERESTS HAD CHEMISTRY WITH OTHER CHARACTERS HAHAHAHAA
that's actually what Akademiya scholars argue about the most viciously, it’s like politics you can’t just bring up ships from ur stories casually in regular convos 💀
(poor Cyno has to deal with a shipping war once a year bc someone always makes the mistake of reading ur work for the first time (without being told to not talk to others abt ships lol) and it starts an all out brawl in the cafeteria every time LMAO)
Also yes.
Cyno is a fanboy.
(he has read Creator x Reader-insert fanfiction.)
(As have most of the characters mentioned, and those not lol)
…
(I'm gonna make a whole Creator x reader fanfic post one day i stg lmao)
☆
an iced coffee? for me?? :0
ok but real talk…
wtf do you guys wanna see for new years!!
i didn't do a inktober/october days thingy bc i felt too unprepared (and bc id wanted to post that 1000+ followers eldritch au for Halloween)
but now i kinda wanna, at least for a few days :o
ill post a poll in a minute, so check it out!! but still, please feel free to comment some ideas here! :)
Safe Travels Deafening Dreamer,
💀♒
If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"
(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")
♡the beloveds♡
@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily
#this looked a lot longer on desktop#fuck it#anyway sorry if im slower again guys!#i got sick again :(#my voice was completely gone for days#im onyl just recovering#so finally felt decent enough to write more#check out my other posts for the poll btw!#genshin sagau#genshin impact#sagau#genshin isekai#genshin imagines#genshin impact sagau#aqua asks#genshin x reader#self aware genshin#genshin self aware#more like isekai heavily but this does rely on u understanding they could/have had ur stories for years in their world#so kinda#<3 u guys but DO NOT TAG AS YANDERE/DARK#bc its not <3#gonna start putting that reminder in the tags
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there's only so much a body can work out, a body can do
Art Donaldson was exhausted.
He was playing tennis for hours a day, exams were coming up, and with Patrick calling from a new time zone every week, he was barely getting any sleep. Even sliding facedown onto the bed next to you offered little relief for his aching muscles.
You let out a sympathetic cluck at his frustrated sigh, dropping your book and winding a hand into his shaggy hair to scratch reassuringly at his scalp. “Poor baby,” you said. “You’re wound up way too tight.”
He didn’t reply, but you could hear his exhale into the mattress. “You need to relax.” You continued, twisting a loose curl around your finger.
“I’m not so good at that.” He admitted in a muffled voice.
“You just need some help.” You paused for a moment, eyeing the tension in his shoulders, the slight arch of his back. “Why don’t you lie down?”
Art tilted his chin up to look at you. “I am lying down.”
“On your back.”
He scanned your eyes briefly before obeying, shirt riding up his toned stomach in the process. “Like this?”
“Yeah, just like that.” You agreed. You sat beside him and he shifted slightly to maintain better eye contact, bringing up an arm to rest behind his head. The movement drew your gaze to his taut bicep, and you couldn’t resist bending down to bite it, just barely hard enough to sting.
You smiled into Art’s skin at his surprised inhale, but you were the one caught off guard when his other arm swept you seamlessly into his lap.
“Hey!” You said, sitting up straight. “Hands to yourself.” He pouted, hand still gripping your hip, but you weren’t joking. When you started to lift yourself off, he caved.
“Okay, I’m sorry.” He said, propping himself up with both arms now. “You’re in charge.”
“Don’t forget it.” You warned. He watched, chastised, as you dropped your own hands to the hem of his shirt, pulling it up until it bunched at his collarbone. Then, finally, you leaned down to kiss him.
Art was a needy kisser, always waiting for you to guide him, chasing your mouth with his own any time you tried to pull back, whimpering when you licked at the inside of his mouth. You loved kissing him, loved how much it worked him up. He was still a teenage boy, after all.
Once you could feel him properly hard beneath you, you began to descend, teeth scraping his jawbone, his collarbone, his nipple, followed soothingly by your tongue each time. Art’s abdomen was tense beneath your mouth as you pressed open-mouthed kisses to his ribs, his navel, his hips.
The tip of his cock was already sticky when you pulled down his boxers and grasped him in your fist, and you wasted no time in leaning down to tongue his slit. Normally you’d tease him much longer, make him beg, but right now, you just wanted to make him feel better. Art could hardly believe his luck.
You pumped the base of him with one hand and cupped his balls with the other as you suckled at his head. A whine escaped from high in the back of Art’s throat, and it only encouraged you to swallow more of him down.
“Oh,” he gasped, hips bucking into your mouth. “Fuck, please, please.” You moved a hand to rub his thigh reassuringly, a wordless promise, and lowered yourself further until your nose nestled against his pelvis. Art was panting desperately above you, the noises so sweet you couldn’t stop yourself from grinding down against his leg. He moaned at the feeling of your wetness, which only spurred you on more. For a while, the only sounds in the room were your slurps and gags against Art's cries.
Before long, you could feel the familiar signs of his impending orgasm, and you popped off. It took Art a moment too long to comprehend that you were speaking, too mesmerized by the string of drool connecting you to his dick.
“Where do you want to come, baby?” You asked again, hand continuing your work. “Hmm?”
“Is this a trick question?” He asked between shallow breaths.
You couldn’t help but laugh, and Art’s chest flushed pink. “No.” You promised, ducking to mouth at his balls. “Anywhere you want. Do you want to come in my mouth? On my face, or on my tits?” His face was beautifully unforgettable when you glanced up, eyes dazed and cheeks glowing as he tried to form a thought. “Come on, princess, use your words.”
At that, Art’s cock twitched in your grasp and you took him back into your mouth, tongue working at the underside. “On your face,” he finally said above you, and your stomach swelled. “Wanna come on your face.”
“Okay, baby,” you murmured. “Anything for you.” You pulled off long enough to soak two fingers in your spit, simultaneously gulping him back down and pressing the pads of your fingers behind his balls. Art clenched down and let out a strangled moan as you rubbed over his hole. You teased him with the tip of a finger, nudging at the muscle but not quite penetrating him, soaking up the mewls that fell from his mouth.
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna- you’re gonna make me come,” he panted. His thighs were quivering; he was so close, the tension ready to drain from his body. You gave an encouraging hum, swallowing around his cock, and Art’s gasp broke into a sob as he came. You kept him in your mouth for a moment, letting yourself swallow just a little before pulling off to let him splatter onto your face. Art’s whimpers were delicious as he watched himself coat your swollen lips, your long lashes.
“Good boy,” you cooed, fist still working his cock even as he began to flinch from the overstimulation. “That’s it, does that feel better?”
Art’s head was tipped back as he struggled to catch his breath, but even still, his eyes refused to move from the mess on your face. You kept your eyes on his as you lowered your mouth once more, lapping at the dribble of cum down his cock. He started to whine in protest, it was too much, but you took pity and let him go, rocking back on your heels.
“So much better,” he whispered. “That felt so good, I needed it, thank you."
“Good.” You said, licking your lips. “That’s what I like to hear.”
#ultimately this was born out my desire to help mike faist recover from the press tour#first time posting smut on main dont make me regret it#challengers#challengers fanfic#challengers smut#art donaldson#art donaldson fic#art donaldson fanfic#art donaldson smut#challengers fanfiction#challengers movie#challengers 2024#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson x you#art donaldson challengers#fanfiction#fanfic#oneshot#imagine#smut#mike faist smut#mike faist imagine
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can you even call it a warm up if I'm going to bed without drawing anything big
and a sketch I made while sitting in the park today
#sketch#my art#bnha#shigaraki tomura#tenko shimura#all for one#midoriya izuku#bnha manga spoilers#only after I finished basically polishing this sketch did I notice how it's basically dark and light mode#also the first one is basically a redraw of illustration from vol 11#I know that translation of Tenko's words is different in official but eh#fanart#I've kind of recovered from recent chapters#and I was analysing those chapters all morning#I'm still thinking but otherwise the chapters are so good#also did you notice that AFO actually talked about how his other him didn't use that 'last thing' yet and that was in ch 410#and in ch 419 he did so it's real and it's still sad#but still AFO was never hiding it enough#from Tomura maybe but we as readers actually saw his plans play out#in any case I'm still just sitting with those two Izuku and Tenko interaction chapters#I waited long enough#and if you don't count AFO's return Izuku DID save Tenko and it's so interesting#since he now has to save his OTHER origin that was in ch 237 taught to kill whatever he wants#Tenko and Tomura both had 'origins' chapters and for now we only worked with 235 and 236#and even if Izuku helped with the start of 237 there's still AFO#in any case it was a hard week#also the second thing actually had them holding hands#and then I was like 'but at that point Izuku's hands are gone oh no'#and it was just Tenko holding air where the hand was destroyed#in any case that scene.
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it took 17 days
#omniscient reader's viewpoint#orv#han sooyoung#orv hsy#hsy#rash art#This book made my head fucking epxkode and i dont know how or when i can recover#More art soon i think .#Dokja is now trapped in my brain room of little guys forever
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kiss the girl
summary ⎯ five times dan heng has thought about kissing you, and the one time he actually does.
tana's words ⎯ i've been recently listening to kiss the girl (ashley tisdale version) and its cute and made me think of dan heng. and idk if this follows canon story or not bc im not at xianzhou yet lolz.
also ik the title says 'kiss the girl' but that's only bc i was listening to the song. reader is gender neutral.
tags ⎯ friends to lovers. pining i think. hurt and comfort (at the end). flustered dan heng. fluff i think.
THE FIRST TIME dan heng thinks about kissing you, he immediately pushes away the thought. it was out of character; it was outrageous for him to think of a friend that way. it made him feel perverted for even thinking of the action.
it was a sunny day. you two (plus march and stelle) were in belobog at the time and you guys were witnessing bronya's speech. all of you agreed the speech was marvelous, and you all felt a sense of pride for bronya.
your eyes were sparkling in the sun as you watched bronya speak, and dan heng couldn't help but become enamoured by your face. he looked away from his paper to peek at your awed expression.
at that moment, dan heng thought you were the most beautiful person he's ever seen. but he can't think that. he cannot. not only were you a fellow trailblazer, but you were also his friend. he couldn't risk one of his greatest friendships over something as minimal as this.
so, he pushed the thought out of his brain. he thought that it would be gone forever, but he was deeply wrong.
THE SECOND TIME dan heng wanted to kiss you occured while you two were gazing in the astral express. by this time, you two have left belobog, and are awaiting your next journey.
you chose to pass the time by 'star-watching,' a new term you created as a substitute to cloud watching. the activity is similar to cloud watching as you point out shapes that make beings.
dan heng told you that you were just pointing out constellations, you said that you wanted to pass on the technicalities.
so now, you two were star-watching. you kept pointing out absurd patterns, such as, "this one looks like svarog," (it did not) and, "this one looks like balls." of course, none of the constellations looked like either of the comparisons (dan heng was thinking about taking you to the eye doctor), but dan heng played along anyway. anything to make you smile.
at one point, the absurdities stopped, and you began pointing out real constellations. so many beautiful creations in the sky, yet the real beautiful thing was right next to him, continuously pointing out constellations.
you rested your head on your hand, mindlessly gazing out at the empty field of stars in front of you, "it's beautiful."
"yeah," dan heng mindlessly replies, not even realizing what he's just said, "it is," he finally says, looking at you.
maybe it's the light from the stars hitting your face, or maybe it was just your radiant beauty, but the urge to kiss you came up once again. subconsciously, dan heng knew the feeling would arise sooner or later. but that didn't mean he liked the feeling.
he wants to preserve your friendship so bad; but sometimes, the line drawn alongside friendship and love begins to thin. sometimes, the line gets so thin that dan heng fears that he'll trip and fall into you.
THE THIRD TIME dan heng wanted to kiss you was when you two were hanging out in his room. over the span of months, dan heng has learned to appreciate your being, and sometimes (he will never admit this) he feels calmer around you.
usually, dan heng didn't let other people be in his room, but it was different with you. for some reason, he liked it when you were in his room. sometimes, he finds himself wanting you to be in his room.
he was quietly sorting through his data bank while you were reading. it was such a calm and quiet moment; dan heng felt peace for once. there was music playing softly in the back, the room was silent, and the air was just right. it felt nice.
dan heng was too tuned into his data bank that he didn't hear footsteps coming up closer to him. it was only when he turned his head to check on you, that dan heng noticed you were right next to him.
you were right next to him, head nearly leaning on his shoulder, and you were so close to him. dan heng's heart was about to beat out of his chest, and he began to worry about the warmth that was rapidly spreading to his neck.
when you noticed dan heng's reaction, you thought you'd surprised him. you moved a little bit back, "sorry, did i scare you?"
"no, not at all. i was just a little startled," dan heng replied while rubbing the back of his (reddening) neck.
"that's like, the same thing as scared," you gave a low chuckle and moved closer to him once again, "you would know this."
"dunno," dan heng paused, "maybe i was too frightened to remember." when you laughed at that, dan heng swore he blushed all the way up to his ears.
"you are not funny," you gave him a slight shove that didn't really affect him. you leaned closer into the database, "what are you doing?"
you didn't realize how close you were to dan heng, your faces nearly touching. you were scrolling around his data bank while dan heng was trying to hide his rampant blush from your eyes.
dan heng stared at you while you browsed, taking in your close presence. you didn't seem nearly as tense as he did. you were relaxed, comfortable, you leaned into him. dan heng found himself staring longer than normal.
then, the thought, came in. the same recurring thought he'd been having for a long time: the thought to kiss you. he wanted to take you by the hands and pull you closer to him. he wanted to feel your palms and he wanted to feel you closer to him.
and this is the moment were dan heng realizes that he wants to be more than friends. dan heng realizes that he likes you; he wants you to be with him, he wants to feel you by his side. he wants endless star-watching nights; he wants to see you constantly.
and that is dangerous. not only would that ruin your friendship, but it would also endanger you. there's so much that would put you at risk.
"you should go back to your room," dan heng puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, causing you to look back up at him. your confused expression almost shatters dan heng's resilience, but he goes on, "it's late. go get some rest."
you keep the hand on your shoulder, "you too. don't stay up too late, okay?" the soft tone of your voice makes dan heng melt, and he almost wants to pull you back and ask you to stay. almost.
dan heng nods and you leave. he leans back on his desk and puts his head in his hands. what is he going to do?
THE FOURTH TIME dan heng wanted to kiss you was the night you arrived in the xianzhou. you (and march and stelle) were exploring the city and it's wonders while dan heng was treading carefully behind you.
you haven't had a full conversation with dan heng for days. you assume it was probably because you were snooping around his data bank, but he has never minded that before. you haven't got an actual chance to apologize either, because for some reason, dan heng is now constantly busy.
the four of you decided that you would split up to look around. march immediately went to stelle, so that left you with dan heng.
dan heng knew this would happen. he couldn't avoid you for too long anyway, even if he tried. he would always end up gravitating back towards you.
it pained him to not talk to you. he missed your voice, your jokes, your little touches. he missed your book talks, he missed the way you'd always be in his room, he even missed your nosiness.
you and dan heng were aimlessly strolling around the streets until you found a lively street parlor. they were selling food, and the aroma was absolutely divine. dan heng knew you immediately caught your mind on something when he saw your beaming face.
you still haven't found a correct time to apologize to dan heng, but that can wait for later. you just wanted to talk to him. "dan heng! we should try some," you beamed.
"okay. i'll wait over here," dan heng monotonously replied. your smile slightly faltered, dan heng thought the sight to be excruciating.
he couldn't still be mad at you, right? you had to apologize soon, because this silent is agonizing. you couldn't help the fact that you missed dan heng. you missed late nights and his warm touch. you missed his sarcasm and his gentle nature.
when you returned, you brought back one giant kebab that dan heng knew you couldn't finish. you'd probably have enough to share with the entire express.
when you took a bite of the kebab, you moaned with delight, and dan heng forgot how much he missed your smile. it all came rushing back to him, all the things he missed about you. you are right here, in his grasp, yet he still cannot have you.
after your first bite, you offered a second bite to dan heng. etiquette was all out of the picture when you were there.
originally, dan heng wasn't planning to eat. there were lots of problems at hand, and dan heng could not relax now. but you were an obstacle in his equation. how could he refuse you when you were practically bouncing on your toes, smiling, and looking at him with such mirthful eyes. saying no to you was like refusing a blessing from the aeons.
he took a bite out of the kebab, to which he nodded in delight. dan heng finished chewing with a delighted expression on his face, and your smile appeared once again. dan heng felt his lips creep up, and sooner or later, he was smiling as well.
he looked down at your happy expression, and he noticed that you had food on the corner of your mouth. dan heng usually scolded you for being slightly messy, but in this tender moment, there was no need.
dan hen grabbed a napkin from a nearby table and wiped the corner off your mouth off. he wiped the food off so tenderly that you would think he was tending to something delicate and fragile. and the gaze he gave you after. you nearly passed out. dan heng looked at you with such fondness and love that you gripped the kebab harder.
his mind hadn't registered what he just did before you quietly said, "thank you."
dan heng nearly malfunctioned. what he just did was criminal. it was a simple thing, however it was most criminal to dan heng. during that moment, all he could think of was your lips on his. the tenderness of his touch was his mind projecting how he would cup your face when you two kissed. all of it felt so wrong, but so right.
"no problem," dan heng blushed and avoided your eyes. "do you... do you think we should meet back up with march and stelle?"
"yeah," you looked down at the ground, slightly flustered, "yeah. let's go."
things were awkward. but at least things were okay. and that was all that mattered to you.
MARCH 7TH HAD speculations. you and dan heng were like a pair. you two were a dynamic duo, second to march and stelle, of course. you would always be seen with each other. when march "accidentally" stumbles into dan heng's room, you'd be somewhere in there as well.
so, why is it that whenever march barges into dan heng's room, you aren't there? why are you not with him? why is he "constantly busy" when he there is nothing to store in the data bank? something was up, and march was determined to find out what was happening.
"don't you think it's weird that we never see dan heng and yn together anymore?" march asked stelle while sipping on juice.
stelle huffed, "i mean, it's a little weird. but maybe they're both exhausted. we just got out of belobog and now we're facing more conflict in another world."
"yeah, but," march paused for dramatic effect, "i saw them together in dan heng's room a few days ago."
stelle furrowed her eyebrows, "are you stalking them or something?"
"what?!" march exclaimed, nearly jumping out of her seat. the scene caused stelle to laugh, "no. of course not, i can't believe you accused me of that!"
"so... you don't think it's weird that we never see them together anymore?" march continued.
"okay. i'll answer. it's a little weird. but whatever it is i'm sure they have a reasonable explanation for it," stelle said. "why are you asking about them anyway?"
"because," march drew out the syllables, "they're cute. i've been shipping them. and plus, dan heng hasn't really been acting like himself recently."
"yeah, but what are we gonna do about it? he hasn't really opened up to us about his problems... like... ever..." stelle trailed off, as if she tried to remember how many times dan heng has ever spoken about himself.
"don't worry stelle," march grinned, "i have a plan."
"i can't believe we fell for this," you grimaced in the closet you were stuck in.
march and stelle split up and told both of you that there was a group meeting in march's room. obviously, because the both of you thought there was something urgent, you rushed in there. you were prepared, only to be ambushed and pushed in a closet by march and stelle as a ploy to "make up."
alas, you knew you needed to talk things out sooner or later.
dan heng, on the other hand, was freaking out. you're close. you're so close that he can feel every time you exhale out of your nose. this closet had no space, so you were practically pressed up on dan heng.
the one thing he couldn't see though, was your face. dan heng wanted to see your face. he wanted to study you up close: he wanted to your skin with his hands, wanted to pull you closer so he can observe the way your mouth lifts when you smile. he wants so much, but he can have none of it.
"i think i can break us out," dan heng offered.
"do you think they're guarding the doors?" you chuckled. dan heng gave a small smile after hearing your laugh. it's ironic that you're laughing in this situation while dan heng's heart is about to burst.
"i think the both of us can take them," dan heng answered.
this is the most you two have ever spoken to each other in days. you missed his voice and you missed being so close to him. unconsciously, you leaned closer to dan heng. you would know his warmth from anywhere.
as you two try to find a good point to hit, your hands brush against dan heng's. the way his hand feels on top of yours just feels right. the way his touch is still so gentle; oh how badly you missed his touch against yours.
"i'm sorry!" dan heng quickly removed his hands from yours. he moved away from you as well. you wanted so badly to chase him: you wanted to come closer, to place your hands with his one more time.
but you didn't. you doubted the fact that dan heng wanted to be near you. with his recent actions, you were wondering if the two of you were still on good terms or not. you could mess everything up with one action; dan heng was the very last thing you wanted to lose.
when you two finally found a good breaking point, you both put all your body strength into prying the doors open. it took a few tries, but the doors finally opened. however, there were consequences. the closet fell down with the combined force of both your bodies shaking it.
before you two fell to the floor, dan heng grabbed your arm and pulled you underneath him in a quick motion. your heart raced against your chest; you were so close that you could feel dan heng's heartbeat as well. and to your surprise, his heart was beating just as fast as yours.
the closet fell on top of you, and dan heng shoved it off of the two of you in one motion. seeing him do that just made your heart beat faster, and you were sure that you were breathing faster as well.
dan heng looked down to check on you, but doing so brought him much closer to you. closer than he had ever been. if dan heng moved down a little bit more, he would be able to close the distance between your lips. the urge was tempting: he was on top of you, your faces were both so close to each other, and your breathing was rampant and quick.
"are you alright?" dan heng asked. his breath fanned your face and you stared right into his eyes.
"i should be asking you that," you breathlessly whispered. he was so close and you were about to burst.
"i'm alright," he leaned down closer, "don't worry about me."
you two were both in a daze when you found yourselves leaning closer to each other. dan heng cupped your face; he couldn't wait any longer. all resilience went out the window, because right here, right now, you were here. you were in front of him, looking as radiant as ever, and dan heng could close the distance right now.
his hands treaded carefully across your face, as if you were one-of-a-kind. finally, his hands rested against your cheeks, and he leaned closer. dan heng was so close to kissing you before a commotion entered the room.
"OH MY GOD!" march exclaimed before running out of the room.
you startled, and accidentally pushed dan heng off of you. you frantically apologized while dan heng brushed himself off and helped you up. you were shaking at what almost just happened. you almost kissed your best friend.
the distance between you and dan heng was wide. he made sure to stand exactly five feet away from you. his hands were crossed and he refused to look at you. dan heng was worried that if he got even the slightest glance at you, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from what would happen next.
you both quickly left the room with racing hearts, confused thoughts, and a realization that whatever just happened was a mistake.
WHENEVER DAN HENG NEEDS SOMEONE to help him with his wounds, you are always that person.
at first, it was for team bonding. before stelle came, you all would take turns patching wounds to build team trust. however, with dan heng, the only person that he'd let patch up his wounds was you. you used to tease him and tell him that he was like a dog in that way, but he always brushed it off.
you were always gentle with him; carefully touching up on cuts and bruises with bandages or rubbing alcohol. by no means were you any doctor, but you were tender and calm.
dan heng was wounded again. there was no reason for him to be wounded. the fight was tame; the enemies weren't extremely powerful or anything. but for some reason, dan heng surpassed the rest of the team with more cuts.
now, you two were in a small room together. luckily, it's more spacious than the closet, but it wasn't as big as dan heng's room. you and dan heng were both sitting on a table; you sitting criss-cross-applesauce while dan heng was sitting properly.
the both of you haven't talked ever since the closet incident. instead, you two have been sharing gazes, brushing past each other in halls, and staying five feet away from each other.
this was the closest you have been in a while.
you are focused on banadaging dan heng's cuts. your eyes are glued to his arms and torso; you refused to look up at dan heng. you couldn't look at him for two reasons: you were slightly mad at him for obtaining so many injuries and you still couldn't look him in the eye after the past situation.
dan heng sat in silence as you tended to him. he knew you were mad at him, and he felt awful. dan heng knew that he didn't need to sustain as many injuries has he had. the only reason why he had so many injuries was that he was trying to distract himself from his feelings. the closet situation had him questioning himself. given the chance, would he hold himself back or would he let his urges win?
"i'm done," you let go of his arms and started putting bandages away. dan heng didn't know you'd be done so quickly. he wanted to bask in your grace for a little longer. dan heng thought about pulling a stitch in order to get you to stay longer, but that just seemed weird.
dan heng knew he couldn't let you leave like this. there was too many unspoken words between you two; most of them, partially his.
during this, dan heng realized something. he realized that, even though you are still mad at him, you stayed with him. you didn't ask for march or stelle to help him, but you did it yourself. dan heng could be reading too much into it, but dan heng is tired. he's tired of longing for you.
and maybe, just maybe, if you'll stay when it gets difficult (like right now), maybe you'll stay when it gets hard as well.
dan heng decides to leave all resilience behind. for once, he doesn't calculate the consequences nor does he hold himself back.
you're about to slide off the table until dan heng pleads, "wait." he grabs your arm and holds you there with a gentle grip. you could slip out of it if you wanted to, but this may be the first actual conversation the two of you will have in a while.
dan heng takes your silence as an answer. "thank you," he says. he curses at himself at the simple response. it was anti-climatic. "i appreciate you," he adds on.
the compliment made you blush, even though it was very simplistic. you avoid looking at him and rather focus on tapping your fingers on the table. "no problem. it was nothing anyway."
you two remain silent for a few moments; you didn't want to leave in fear that this may be one of your few conversations. dan heng was trying to find the right words to say.
"i really do appreciate you. for being here. for always being here," he continues. dan heng realizes he sounds redundant, and he wants to slap his palm across his face. with you, he couldn't find the right words to convey his actions. saying, "i'm sorry," wasn't enough and saying, "i miss you," was too little.
"i told you. it's nothing. i'd do the same for everyone else," and you wanted to chide yourself for saying the last sentence. not true, because the only person who'd you really do all of this for was only dan heng.
"i think this is the longest conversation we've had in a while," you murmur to yourself.
"i know," dan heng replies. you jump back on the table, almost falling off. if it wasn't for dan heng catching you (yet again), you would've fell off. his touch sends electricity through your veins; his touch brings warmth to your body.
"hey! you need to watch your stitches," you automatically scolded him. your nagging was a normal occurrence, but this time, it felt rare. dan heng hasn't heard you nag at him for years (days), and he feels as though he can breath normally now.
"sorry," he pulls back. you're left shuffling closer to dan heng, not that you notice, due to your almost fall. you two were facing each other now; the distance was a lot closer than before.
you let out a small laugh at the situation. practically falling of a table was not a laughing matter, but you always found joy in those situations. sometimes, dan heng thought it was a bit strange, but he always valued your optimism.
"i'm sorry dan heng," you look back down on the table, "i didn't know going through your data bank would make you ignore me for days," you let out dry chuckle.
dan heng furrows his eyebrows in shock, "don't apologize. i don't mind you looking through the data bank."
you looked up after his reply, expression shadowed with confusion, "wait? really? so... why the radio silence? did i have something to do with it?"
"no! no, it wasn't you," dan heng quickly reassured. "it was me. i was the problem."
"don't have to tell me that," you smiled and bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from laughing.
"i'm gonna let that slide," dan heng smirked. it was nice, the way you two fell back into your normal routines once again. it was like all the tension that was previously there, simply dissipated.
"i missed you," you crossed your legs on the table, moving back to the criss-cross applesauce position.
"me too," dan heng replied. "i missed you a lot." he looked straight into your eyes.
you flustered underneath his gaze, "i probably missed you more. sometimes i dunno if i can survive without you," you joked. it was a joke, but occasionally, you find it to be true.
"for me, it's the other way around," dan heng mumbled beneath his breath. "i really missed you. and our late nights. and star-watching."
"you missed star-watching?" you astonishly asked. dan heng wished he could take a picture of your grin when he told you that he missed star-watching.
"i missed a lot of things," dan heng paused, "but i missed you the most."
"i'm sorry for pushing you away yn. i was just⎯ scared," time to rip off the band-aid, "when i'm around you, i just get so messed up. you're the only thing on my mind sometimes. everything about you just makes me⎯ breathless? speechless? you amaze me to the point where i can't even think of a word to describe you."
dan heng pauses and his heart is racing. you're looking at him as if you want him to continue, as if you want him to finally say what he wants. dan heng doesn't know that you want it too.
"yn," dan heng looks straight at you, "i have feelings for you. feelings that i think will overwhelm me at one point if i keep it all together. i never stop thinking about you, longing for you. i want you and i think i really want to kiss you," dan heng finishes. he fumbled on his words back there, because he doesn't think he wants to kiss you, he wants to.
"dan heng..." your face is hot. your body is hot. your breathing is fast-paced and you feel like you are about to be on fire. adrenaline rushes through your veins and you are sure you are not thinking straight.
you pull him in for a kiss, tugging him closer by his chin and kissing him passionately. you take that fire from your body and you pour it all into this kiss. dan heng is surprised at first, but then reciprocates your actions. while your hand is on his face, his hands slide to your hips, tugging you closer and holding you tighter.
you two kiss until you have to stop for air. when you breathe, the whole world feels like it's on fire as well.
"i feel the same. i can't stop thinking about you," you lean in for another kiss, "i miss you," another kiss, "i missed being with you," another, "i missed being close to you," another, this time a little longer, "but i really hope i don't miss this."
"don't worry," dan heng pauses, "you won't. i promise."
and after all of that, dan heng finally got to kiss you.
#tana writes (∗´ ᨔ `∗)#this was a monster to write#i got this finished in one day#dan heng x you#dan heng x reader#dan heng#honkai star rail#hsr#honkai star rail x reader#honkai star rail x you#dan heng imagines#the way it just gets progressively longer#im gonna need 3-5 business days to recover#PROMOTING MY STELLE MARCH / STARCH AGENDA!!! STARCH STARCH STARCH#can you tell it got worse at the end
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johnny u sweet baby angel i need u in my life
#johnathon ohnn#the spot#johnathon ohnn x reader#the spot x reader#i will never recover hes so beautiful#guys what if i started crying#i can and will and have cried about him#my wife isn’t he beautiful#i am so cringe for him#astv#genuinely the most beautiful man i’ve ever seen#i forgot to write about his beautiful doe eyes but you get the idea
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‘I’ve always been such a hopeless person’
… ty for 51 million followers i appreciate all of u <3
#portgas d ace#one piece#one piece art#op#drawing#fanart#one piece fanart#portgas ace fanart#ace one piece#one piece ace#one piece angst#one piece fluff#1pc#portgas ace x reader#monkey d. luffy#luffy fanart#asl brothers#asl trio#traflagar law#law one piece#op x reader#anime fanart#op zoro#op sanji#i genuinely will never recover#marineford#one piece manga#one piece luffy#i miss him
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[❣︎] good luck, babe — huh yunjin x reader
[𖤐] 1/3 [please be aware this is all fiction! none of this is real and idols behavior is not accurately represented.]
song(s): good luck babe - chappel roan | runaway runaway - mars argo | casual - chappel roan |
summary: you’re dream was to debut with your best friend. what do you do when she doesn’t want to debut as your “friend” anymore?
pairing: idol!huh yunjin x soloist!fem!reader | slight idol!nakamura kazuha x soloist!fem!reader
tags: angst, eventual happy ending
wc: 2.7k
cw: mentions of dieting, internalized homophobia LITE, period-typical homophobia
ex: not beta read will do it later sorry 😞
jennifer had been your best friend since highschool— or I guess you should say huh yunjin, now. you both met in your freshman year, and bonded over your love of music and dance. she was loud, extroverted, but not in an obnoxious way— she was like the sun, shining brightly, oozing charisma. She lit up a room, and it was all you could do to chase her warmth like a desperate, frost-bitten flower.
you were still extroverted, albeit enjoying time away from people. you weren’t popular, you were a bit more reserved, a bit more closed off, but relatively well liked for your humor and academic prowess. You had one or two close friends, one of them being yunjin.
it was the summer before 2019 when she told you she wanted to be an idol. You were sleeping over at her house, since your parents were fighting, again. you, who had no real plans after highschool, whose parents didn’t really care what became of their daughter— you smiled and held her hand. You’d follow the sun anywhere it went.
you both made it onto produce 48, jumping up and down, screaming and crying for just the pure joy of it. Alone, again, with her, you held her head in your hands, finally kneeling in front of each other on the hardwood floor, your foreheads touching as you both panted, giggling and smiling still. The moment quickly broke away when you heard the door open, breaking apart faster than you could blink. That’s when it all started, you could say. When you realized you might like your best friend.
you were a rising star, praised for your smooth, detailed dance and soft, honey way of singing. You began to rank higher and higher, everyone loved you— everyone but your best friend. Everyone but who you wished would love you.
a part of you thinks if you weren’t going through your angsty teenaged romance, you wouldn’t have tried as hard to debut as you did. All your songs were about her, her hair, her voice, her eyes— everything about her. She was your reason to keep going. Maybe she deserved some credit, after all, you would never had been as popular if everyone wasn’t so curious to know who Korea’s new rising rookie was so in love with.
when yunjin was eliminated, it was the worst day of your life. The cameras caught you, with your hand over your mouth, frozen, tears falling down your face. You struggled to breath, but finally got up and ran to her. You didn’t even care if the cameras caught you, you didn’t care- you just needed her- your best friend- you needed her.
you cried for days. you tried not to bother anyone, muffling it with a pillow. you got so good at crying quietly, but everyday you’d wake up with puffy, red-rimmed eyes, and got told to cover them up. You tried to keep contact, but she “couldn’t handle the reminder,” right now, or so she said. Either way, there was a hundred messages you sent before you got that sharp reminder that you would never be anything more than a friend. maybe less, now. She was never yours. You were on borrowed time. the sun shares its warmth with the whole world, you were just naive enough to believe it was you who allowed it to be shared.
after that, Korea’s rising star fell back to earth. The pretty sunflower wilted, and broke apart. You were eliminated shortly after, and some people put two and two together. There was never enough proof for a scandal, but some people believed that you fell apart because that person you were writing about left, but they still weren’t sure who. God, they’re so dumb.
you continued to be a trainee, lying in wait.
you got called into a meeting. You had the opportunity to debut in a new group. Le Sserafim, they called it, an anagram for im fearless. A part of you laughed. you were never fearless. You were a coward. You couldn’t even tell her how much you loved her. You didn’t try to think about it, though. You hadn’t heard that name in years—
it was three years before you heard the name huh yunjin again. She was coming back, and she was going to debut. In the same group.
and like coming home after years of being lost. obviously, you were ecstatic.
all the starving, all the work, all the tears and pain and suffering— it was all for her. it’d all be worth it to feel her warmth again, to get your sun back, to end this constant winter.
You’d get to be her sunflower, again.
The heat of August in Korea was in full force, and you were wearing nothing too impressive, just a Nirvana shirt you’d had for years and a pair of baggy jeans when you saw her. To be completely transparent, you had heard her before you saw her. You could never forget that laugh. You peeked your head from behind the wall, peering down the corridor. You practically ran to her.
You beamed, barely contained excitement buzzing around you. “JEN! You’re back! Oh my god, how are you? I missed y-” you were cut off. She smiled at you, but it didn’t look.. real. It look practiced. She didn’t smile at you like how she used to.
“I’m good, and yeah, it’s great to be back. Nice to see you again, y/n,” she nodded, before she continued walking with the staff member into a different room, farther down along the corridor.
What just happened? Did she.. not like you, anymore? Did she forget? Did she move on? What were you saying— there was nothing to move on from. Stress relief, she called it. Just a distraction. Casual, easy, quick. What were you thinking? No, really, what were you thinking? She had only dated guys all throughout high school, you were probably just her experiment, just something she tried out.
You decided to find out.
You cornered her in a hallway. Not very classy, you know, but where else could you find her?
“Jen- is there a reason you stopped talking to me? I just- you probably know, we’re gonna debut together now, we need to.. work together. I just- I need to know. Did it mean nothing to you? You were my best friend,”
Yunjin looked vaguely uncomfortable, cringing towards the wall, looking to the side before she spoke. “Listen, y/n, we’re about to debut. I’m about to debut. I’ve been working on this for years, and so have you. Why would we throw it all away? We should focus on our debut, not whatever silly things we did when we were younger,” she shrugged, giving a practiced grin. “Besides, it was never serious, right? You know how I am, we both agreed we were just bored-“
“Bored? Because we were fucking bored? You’ve got to be kidding me, Jen. There’s no way you believe that- I fucking loved you-“
“Yeah, well, it’s over now. We’re debuting. Get it together,” she spat acidly, pushing past you and opening the door to the practice studio before looking over her shoulder. “I mean it, y/n. Just forget about it. It didn’t mean anything to me, and it shouldn’t have meant anything to you either,” she said icily, about to close the door. “Just call me Yunjin, now,” she muttered, door clicking shut behind her, leaving you a bitter, heart broken mess.
you didn’t follow. You figured she needed time alone- she didn’t need you, anymore. you wouldn’t have known how wrong she felt saying it, how it felt like ripping out her heart every time she watched your face break. It was for your own good, she thought. You didn’t need her ruining your chances. You both wanted this, right? To debut? That was the dream— she was doing you a favor.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t think I can debut in a group,” you said seriously, your hands clasped together. “I would rather be a soloist.. I’ve already written a few songs, I’ve planned the concept— you know how popular I was during Produce 48, right? I swear, just give me a shot-“ You pleaded, beginning to ramble before he cut you off.
“Y/n, you’re an excellent singer, and a well-rounded dancer. You’re an asset, to say the least. I never really wanted you in a group to begin with. I think you have a future as a soloist,” he smiled, nodding. “Sure, why not? Tell me your ideas,”
——————————————————————————————————
it all went from there. You were gonna debut. Either way, even if you were in a group- it wouldn’t be with your best friend, Jennifer. It’d be with Huh Yunjin, idol extraordinaire. You didn’t like her, much. You didn’t want to be her flower, or anyones, for that matter. Returning to the ground was a better choice. Sunflowers were always too bright for you anyway. You preferred white carnations, anyway.
You made your debut around the same time as Le Sserafim, and it was a smash hit. You released your debut album, LIMERENCE, with the title track ‘Good Luck, Babe!’ You were widely praised, forums discussing whether or not the song was about the same person you sang about in Produce 48. They were right, of course, but they’d never guess who. You were on a music show, getting your first win. The Le Sserafim members clapped, and you smiled graciously at them, your gaze lingering on Yunjin’s before you turned to the cameras, smiling, waving, holding the trophy before you were handed the mic for an encore. You smiled, readjusting the trophy in your arms before your voice began to ring out on the loud stage.
“I’m fine, it’s cool, you can say that we are nothing but you know the truth,” you began, glancing at Yunjin not-so-subtlely.
“and guess I’m the fool, with her arms out like an angel through the car sun roof,” memories of fooling around, joking, sneaking out your parents house to meet her, to meet Yunjin.
“I don’t wanna call it off, but you don’t wanna call it love,” your voice grew in volume, periodically facing and waving at the cameras, before facing Yunjin once again. You really didn’t care if this was posted on forums, saying there was something going on saying you were rude, you didn’t care— you just needed her to know.
“You only wanna be the one that I call baby,” Yunjin tensed under your gaze, averting her eyes. Sakura and Chaewon looked at her knowingly, a bit disappointed. Kazuha and Eunchae looked a bit confused on why, exactly, you were staring at Yunjin like you wanted her to explode.
“You could kiss a hundred boys in bars, shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling. You could say it’s just the way you are, make a new excuse, another stupid reason,” memories of the seen texts, never responded to, flashed through Yunjin’s mind. That stupid argument a few months ago- was this about her? Who was she kidding, of course it was about her, y/n only loved her. She was secure, in that. She hated it though, she didn’t want to ruin your chances, you should move on from her— she wasn’t good for you, she never would be, you deserved better.
“Good luck, babe! Well, good luck, babe! You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling. Good luck, babe! Well good luck, babe! You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling,” you walked across the stage, staring into the cameras as you said this. You winked, giving a winning smile before continuing. “I’m cliche, who cares? It’s a sexually explicit kind of love affair,” another wink. “And I cry, it’s not fair,” you gave a theatric frown, pouting. “I just need a little lovin, I just need a little air,” You kept your gaze off Yunjin for the next few lyrics, acting as if you were now pleading to the crowd, the cameras, for love. Yunjin continued to watch nervously. Why weren’t you looking at her anymore? It started to sound as if you were really, actually over her.
“Think I’m gonna call it off, even if you call it love. I just wanna love someone who calls me baby-” you began again, gaze lingering on Kazuha, winking at her general direction, waving, and turning back to the cameras. You continued to sing, entertaining the crowd before beginning to look a little more bitter, a little more jaded, a little more angry. “When you wake up next to him in the middle of the night, with your head in your hands, you’re nothing more than his wife. And when you think about me, all of those years ago, you’re standing face to face with ‘I told you so’, you know I hate to say it, ‘I told you so,’ you know I hate to say, but- I told you so!” You cried, clutching the mic as you sang passionately, years of resentment, of confusion, of anger, of regret, pain- everything you had felt for Yunjin, everything you would feel. This is what this was for.
“You could kiss a hundred boys in bars, shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling, you can say it’s just the way you are, make a new excuse, another stupid reason,” you spat, making brief eye contact with Yunjin, hatred flashing in your eyes, a mask for the hurt to wear.
“Good luck, babe, well good luck, babe. You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling. Good luck, babe. Well good luck, babe! You’d have to stop the world just to stop the feeling,” you sang, crescendo falling, the song ending as the crowd cheered your name, and you finally walked off stage. You walked the building until you found an isolated part with little to no people. You leaned on the vending machine next to the water fountain, sighing. You told your manager you had to use the bathroom, but it was just an excuse to slip away.
You looked up when you heard footsteps. It was the pretty Le Sserafim member you saw standing near Sakura. Kazuha, you think her name was? You’d have to double check.
“Oh, hello,” You smiled, bowing slightly.
“Ack- oh, hello! Congratulations on your win- I liked your song,” The Japanese girl bowed, clasping her hands together.
“Thank you, I quite liked your song as well,” You praised. “You’re very pretty,” you said, a slight grin on your face as the other girl blushed, spluttering with her words. “What’s your name?”
“Kazuha- Nakamura Kazuha,” she responded quickly, stuttering. You figured she was Japanese from her name, and smiled warmly.
“it’s nice to meet you, then. I’m Y/n,” You nodded, outstretching your hand, leaning in close to the flustered girl. She took it and you shook her hand, before hearing another set of footsteps.
you looked up to see Yunjin, who looked a tad angry. “Y/n. Congratulations on your win,” she said in a stilted, stiff tone.
“Thank you, Yunjin,” you replied back coolly, carefully practiced facade slipping back into place.
“I’ve got to get going now, Jen- oh, sorry, Yunjin,” You said mockingly, not using honorifics. There were no cameras to catch you here, anyway. You walked off, leaving a dumbfounded Kazuha and even angrier Yunjin.
“…she’s really pretty-,” Kazuha began dreamily, clasping her hands together.
“No,” Yunjin said gruffly, beginning to walk back to the group with Kazuha. “Don’t even think about it, Kazuha! She’s mine,” Yunjin exclaimed childishly, warning Kazuha a bit loudly, causing Chaewon and Sakura to turn to her.
“If that song was about you, Yunjin, then I think she might not be yours as much as you think,” Sakura said plainly, tone giving no room for argument as Yunjin averted her eyes, shame and embarrassment burning her face a light red.
‘This was going to be a long comeback period,’ Yunjin thought bitterly, groaning internally as she saw Kazuha begin to scroll though y/n’s Instagram posts as they waited for their manager’s car.
ermmmm hello! I’ve never written for x reader before so I’ve only ever written in third person, bear with me here while I learn how to write this genre ><! this will be three-ish(?) parts. i don’t know who for sure y/n will end up with yet, but.. I will be posting backstories to this, as it was very yn-centric and we don’t get much of yunjins thoughts. Y/n seems delusional but I SWEAAAR she’s not. I’ll post some more works abt how they acted and stories from pd48 days… she’s not insane guys!
also white carnations symbolize pure love and GOOD LUCK. get it?GOOD LUCK. GOOD LUCK, BABE! I’m so funny.
i wrote this in like 3 hours of pure chappel roan good luck babe brain rot pleas forgive me. I’ll beta read it in a few hours after I sleep. thank you jihyoruri for letting me ramble in ur anons for so long 🙏also I love asks plssss send them. byebye now, have a good day! :3
#le sserafim x reader#le sserafim x fem reader#huh yunjin x reader#le sserafim imagines#le sserafim#huh yunjin#girl group images#huh yunjin x fem reader#yunjin x reader#nakamura kazuha#kazuha x reader#nakamura kazuha x reader#kazuha x fem reader#yunjins a little toxic and childish but that’s okay#kazuha’s just happy to be here#reader is going through that one homoerotic friendship#that you can never recover from#fuck a situationship I LOVE YOU 😭😭😭#carps works#carps masterlist
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Do not imagine Jason spending a majority of his time as Red Hood, since the moment he came back from the dead, building a secret life behind every hero’s back.
Do not imagine he stashed off more than enough money from his drug lord pursuits to build a comfortable life for you, in a city far outside of Gotham.
Do not imagine Jason having sudden disappearances throughout the years to spend time with you. Cherishing you, loving you in a cozy home far away from the bustling, crazed criminal city that you used to call home.
You knew everything Jason had been through, emitted through copious amounts of sleepless nights and angry tears. Objects broken, words harshly spoken, secrets seethed out in anguish.
Don’t remember how you still never judged him for it.
The end of each night spent wrapped in the warmth of each other’s arms, your lips exhaling hopes and dreams of Jason one day leaving his deadly life behind, finding forgiveness in himself to be something more, all in Jason’s ear.
Don’t imagine Jason considering it.
Don’t imagine him coming into possession of a velvet box, stashing it amongst his things he’d prepared in advance for his next trip out of town.
Don’t imagine this being the one hope that parades in the back of Jason’s mind for weeks. He can deny it all he wants for the sake of hiding it. He adores it, strives for it, never wanting anything more than ever in his second life.
His outlet, his hope, his one true dream.
Don’t imagine the complete, soul crushing, gut wrenching agony of an unmasked Batman crouched before him, saying your name while Jason was in the midst of a forcefully inflicted mental attack.
“Get her name out of your mouth, old man.”
His words spewed out through gritted teeth, his body submerged in severe sweat. In mere minutes, his entire world came crashing down. His outlet, his escape plan, his one chance of a better life with the woman he loved.
What was Jason thinking? This was Bruce.
Nothing is kept hidden from him.
What would this man do? Find you? Lock you up in a secret chamber? Make you disappear? Jason never believed Bruce to be so cruel until this damage was inflicted upon him.
Jason began blaming himself for getting so close to you, letting you in on the secrets of his past life. You were viewed as an outlet now; a loose end, a victim. A woman who knew way too much.
Don’t imagine the daunting realization that the man you loved could’ve set you up to death, and you were completely unaware of it.
“You want the normal life I envisioned for you, Jason. You can have it, but not with her.”
#jason todd#jason todd x reader#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#dc jason todd#as you can see#I have still not recovered#Gotham war#jason todd x female!reader#jason todd dc
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I may never recover from The Empty Grave's royal rumble scene - teenagers with swords vs. senior citizens who are armed with sci-fi gadgetry weapons and Edward Scissor-hands gauntlets and self adjusting stilts.
#In general the books are well written and the zany aspects of the series blend well - but this one might have been a little much#At the same time I kind of love it - I am going to have so much fun relating this scene to my brother#lockwood and co#save lockwood and co#coreander’s old books#recovering reader
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Hiii, I saw your post about reopening requests and I was wondering if you could do Rook Hunt x Reader when the reader gets sick? (Like maybe from the flu or a cold but nothing life threatening)
Rook Hunt x GN!Reader
I apologize for the massive ooc T-T I don't know how Rook speaks
"Trickster, you need to rest."
"I refuse."
"This isn't a matter you can refuse. You're ill; you need absolute rest."
"But I'm perfectly fine, Rook! See, I can move around like normal." You move your arms around as if to show that you're functioning like normal.
"Non!" he says sternly.
And.. now you're here.
Stuck in bed.
Missing your classes
All because that damn hunter kidnapped you and locked you in here.
"Make sure to drink your medicine, drink a lot of water, and most importantly, rest. I'll come back to check on you when time allows me to."
Normally, you wouldn't mind missing a day or two
since you could always ask your friends for notes and the lessons weren't that hard. You could always easily catch up.
But here, in Twisted Wonderland, you couldn't afford to even miss a single class.
Sure, some classes are fundamentally the same as the ones in your world, but at the same time, they are so different.
Your friends who're in the same class as you aren't much help either.
Sure, you can probably ask someone else for help, like Riddle, for example; he'll do an excellent job at making sure you're caught up with everything, but he's strict. Way too strict for your liking.
You're practically stuck in your own "home" until a certain 3rd year student who likes stalking people comes to "free" you.
All you can do for now is wait..
"Have you drank your medicine?"
"Yes"
"Water?"
"Yes"
"Rest?"
"..Yes..?"
He looks at you in disapproval.
"And here I thought I told you to rest properly."
"But I did! I even took a nap!"
"And how long exactly?"
"Ten minutes!"
He sighs, "C'mere." Reluctantly, you went closer to the man.
He places his hand on your forehead, checking your temperature.
"Oh my, you're burning up! Come, lay down." Hurriedly, he forces you to your bed to lay down.
"Stay there"
"I'll make some soup for you."
While waiting, you can gradually smell the soup coming together.
You can feel yourself drifting to sleep.
The stress and tiredness that have been accumulating seem to have finally hit you.
By the time his footsteps were within hearing distance, you were already in a deep sleep.
Creak
Step
Step
The footsteps halt. He looks down at you and places the tray carrying your food and medicine on the bedside table.
Slowly, cautiously, as if afraid any kind of movement or sound might wake you
He leans down and presses a chaste kiss on your forehead.
'Sleep tight, Mon Ange. I'll be here the whole time you need me.
By the time you woke up, it was already the next day.
Your fever is now long gone.
It amazes you how quickly it went away. It just took one day. It makes you wonder what the people here put in their medicine for it to work so effectively.
Hearing a noise from below, you get up from your bed.
Slowly, you go down the stairs, making sure that the wood doesn't creak as you do so.
You grab your trusty broom and head towards the source of the noise: the kitchen.
You prepare to hit the intruder when suddenly your broom is knocked out of your hands and you are put in a headlock.
"Oh?"
'ROOK!?' You scream internally.
Rook immediately lets go and apologizes. "I sincerely apologize; my body had reacted before I could even think."
"It's..Cough..Alright, cough what're you even doing here anyway?"
"Hm? Do you not remember? I came by yesterday to take care of you."
You try to recall the events that transpired yesterday.
Albeit it's a bit blurry, you now do remember Rook coming by.
"Ah, right, right, you did."
"I'm surprised you haven't left yet, Rook."
"How could I simply leave behind someone who is obviously not in their perfect state?" he says, a bit overdramatically.
Pausing on his words as if remembering something, he says
"Ah, the food. Go sit down; it's almost finished cooking."
As the first light of dawn filtered through the sheer curtains, the cozy breakfast nook was bathed in a warm, golden glow.
Just you, him, and the light that passes through the window, casting a warm and comforting atmosphere
The scene is serene.
You don't know what it is, but, for some reason, you don't want this to end.
You wish to stay in this serenity a bit longer, hoping that time will pause for even a second more to enjoy the scene you have before you.
.ೃ࿐Reblogs are highly appreciated! ^^
#For those that wonder on where Grim is..He was kicked out for the day and forced to stay at Heartslabyul so you can recover in peace#☆〜valerie's own work#☆〜ask/request#twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#disney twisted wonderland#rook hunt#twst rook#rook x reader#disney twst#twst wonderland#rook twisted wonderland#rook twst#rook hunt x reader#rook hunt x mc#rook hunt x yuu#twst rook x reader#twisted wonderland rook#twisted wonderland rook x reader
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he’s so boyfriend
#i’ll never recover#wish he would come hold MY hand#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington imagine#steve stranger things#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#nancy stranger things#steve x nancy#nancy wheeler#stranger things fluff
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Trying to have a peaceful day but i’m plagued by daydreams of a stressed out Price who corners you when he finds you alone, wrapping his arms around you from behind and pressing flat against your back.
Stressed out Price who lets his head lull onto your shoulder with a sigh, his throbbing erection pressed against your ass.
Stressed out Price who filthily humps you from behind like a dog while complaining about everything he’s upset about. His words stuttering with a heavy sigh everytime he ruts just right. And he knows he can trust you to help him feel better because you’re so damn sweet to your captain. :((
#will i ever recover#no#captain john price#price mw2#cod x you#sigh#i need a lobotomy#you know its thick#and veiny#price x reader#john price#blurb#thoughts that keep me up at night#i’m down bad for pixels#i’m plagued
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Someone Else
William Afton X Reader
I continue to wanna smash the pervy dilf in the rabbit suit.
Part 2 in a series. I strongly suggest reading part 1 first, but you do you.
p1 ● p2● p3 ● p4
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William spots you attempting to make a quick escape through the security cameras. He decides to make a quick call to demonstrate the... benefits of sticking around. You're his, afterall.
18+ Minors DNI.
~3500 words, no use of y/n
------
content: extremly dubious consent, voyerism, mutual masturbation, phone sex, dirty talk, degradation kink
cw for abusive relationships
You can also read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51615532
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You slowly blink your eyes open and it takes a moment for you to remember why you’re lying with your face down on a musty old couch cushion. You sigh and force your pounding head up, attempting to ignore the screaming pain in your hips and back. Why in the world were you so sore? You’d slept on worse couches than this one and they’d never done you this dirty before. You’d had the most vivid dream as well, the strangest, most frightening, and yet also the most… stimulating wet dream you’d ever had in your life.
You push yourself into a seating position and a sharp twinge between your legs gives you pause, as does the breeze over them. Slowly, you look down and realize your pants and underwear are tangled around your ankles. Still tangled around your ankles.
Fuck.
The events of the night before come flooding back to you with all new clarity and you bury your head in your hands with a groan as it sinks in. You don’t know whether to be ashamed, terrified, or uncontrollably aroused. Actually, you seem to be managing to feel all three things just fine. When you stand up your hips practically scream, and after a moment you feel something warm and viscous begin to slowly drip down your thighs. Your cheeks and ears burn with what must be the most intense blush you’ve ever felt.
First order of business is going to have to be getting clean. You’re sure you can manage that literally, but figuratively it feels like you might never achieve it again. You pull up your jeans and underwear and limp your way out of the staffroom on stiff, aching legs. Around the corner you spot a bathroom and you push your way through the doors. To your surprise and relief it not only contains the regular amenities, but also a cramped shower stall. It makes sense, the mascot suits the staff wore sometimes must have gotten awfully hot on the inside, you’d probably want your employees to freshen up a bit after wearing one before they went back out to interact with customers.
You reach in and flick on the shower, twisting the knob all the way to the top of the hot dial. You don’t really have any hope for hot water, but you can dream can’t you? The shower spits out a stream of cold, rusty water that thankfully clears after a few minutes. While the water flows you strip out of your clothes and use a fist full of the paper towels that are thankfully still in the dispenser to scrub off the worst of the grime that’s accumulated in the stall. To your utter shock the water eventually begins to warm, and you gratefully step into the hot shower.
There’s no soap of course, but it’s better than nothing. You rub your hands over your body, flinching when you hit a large bruise on either hip. Unbidden, your mind slowly starts to drift back to the night before. You remember the way his nails sank into your flesh, his iron grip as he’d slammed into you. A shiver runs through you and you don’t even have cold water to bame it on. Before he left you last night he grabbed your panting form by the hair one last time, pressing his face into your neck and licking you from collarbone to ear.
“Stay as long as you like.” He’d practically purred, pushing his cheek against yours as you whimpered helplessly. “As long as you let me collect rent.” With a sharp nip to your jaw he’d finally let you go, allowing your limp body to crumple onto the couch. You must have passed out after that, because the next thing you can remember is waking up.
Just thinking about it makes desire curl in your stomach all over again, but it also makes your blood run cold. You can’t be sure, but you don’t think he’d come to you that night looking for sex. No, you have a feeling his intentions had been much, much worse than that. It seems to you like you survived that encounter through sheer, dumb luck. The best option for your continued survival is probably to beat a hasty retreat and find somewhere else to lay low. Yes, that’s definitely what you should do, but even as you mentally commit to getting the hell out of dodge you can’t help feeling a pang of disappointment. You can't remember the last time you were so uncontrollably and unreservedly turned on. None of what happened last night should have aroused you. You know on an intellectual level that it was deeply, deeply wrong and dangerous. Your body however, feels differently.
Your body isn’t the boss of you though, and as you turn off the water you resolve to pack up and leave. It’s better to be left wanting than left for dead after all.
You do your best to dry off with the paper towels, a frustrating affair that leaves you mostly still damp and you struggle your way back into your clothing. There isn’t much to be done about your wet hair, so you settled for running your fingers through it to tease out the worst of the tangles. Without letting yourself think about it too much you hurry back to the staffroom and begin to gather your things. You don’t have much to grab, just your flashlight and bookbag. The guts of your phone are still spread out across the floor and for some reason you feel compelled to pick them up and drop them into the nearest garbage. It feels like disrespecting the building by leaving trash around would be the wrong move to make.
After peeking out the window to make sure the coast is clear you shrug your bag over your shoulder and hastily make your way down the hall. You can’t help but feel like you're being watched as you walk, and your brain pictures a large yellow figure looming behind every door you pass.
Just as it seems like you’re going to be able to make your way back into the main area of the building, something stops you in your tracks. The sharp and abrasive ring of an old fashioned phone pierces the quiet and you twist towards the sound. It’s coming from the room next to you, helpfully labeled as the “security office”. You continue to peer into the room as the phone’s shrill ringing echoes in the empty hallway. You can’t think of any good reason that someone would be calling the long defunct business and dread begins to pool in your gut.
The phone is not your problem though, and after a few more piercing rings it falls silent. You give yourself a shake and try to move on, taking a few steps forward and reaching for the door to leave. Just as your fingers brush the knob the phone rings again, causing you to practically jump out of your shoes. You turn back towards the room, staring at the door in trepidation until the ringing stops. It has to be a coincidence, right? You stay frozen for a few long minutes, but the phone doesn’t ring. It could easily be a wrong number you reason, or kids calling on a dare. You reach out for the door one last time and your heart begins to hammer as the ringing once again fills the silence.
Not a coincidence then.
With a gulp you begin to move towards the security office, stepping through the door and casting your eyes around the room in search of the phone. You spot it sitting on a cluttered and dusty desk, just behind a rickety old fan. Your hands shake as you reach out and pick up the receiver.
“Hello?”
–
William has been glued to the monitor from the moment he arrived in his office. Connecting the video feed from the pizzeria to his office at the counseling center had been a simple endeavor, and one that he had found necessary to keep an eye on his… wards over the years. He’s thankful for it now as he watches you blink the sleep from your eyes. The sight of the dark purple bruises forming on your hips and ass sends a wave of possessive pride through him that has his cock twitching in his trousers, and he hisses in disappointment when you pull up your jeans to cover them.
He watches in amazement as you effortlessly navigate the halls and disappear into a bathroom. What is it about you? How can you survive unscathed and with such little effort where so many before you struggled and failed? He knew the animatronics knew you were there, he’d watched you bumble right into Freddy the night before. Yet somehow they had no desire to pursue you, they even seemed to be actively avoiding the areas of the building they knew you were in. Were they trying not to frighten you? It stokes a deep curiosity in him, the same one that had driven him to visit the pizzeria in person last night for the first time in years.
What makes you so special?
That curiosity had been all that motivated him the night before, but now he finds he has an even better reason to keep an eye on you. Claiming you last night was thrilling, and now that he has that he wants to do it over, and over, and over again. He’d watched you sleep all night through the security feed, stroking his cock as he replayed your dalliance in his head until he couldn’t take it anymore. You’d been so wanton, so pliable. It was exquisite.
His brows furrow when you emerge from the bathroom (damp clothing clinging deliciously to your frame) and begin to pack. It’s immediately clear that you’re planning on leaving.
Now, that just won’t do. He’s just gotten you, he won't be letting you go that easily.
He didn’t expect you to pick up the first call, but when you ignore the second his teeth clench in frustration.
No, that won’t do at all. You’re his, and things that are his do not ignore him.
When you finally begin moving towards the phone the wait is agony, but he relishes the fear in your eyes as you lift the receiver.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
–
You suck in a deep breath at the familiar voice, your blood is pumping so fast you can hear it roaring in your ears. The mix of fear and desire from last night comes flooding back to you all at once and you squeeze your legs together despite yourself.
“I didn’t think you’d want me to stay here.” You lied, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “I was going to find somewhere else to stay.”
“Now that won’t do at all. Here I’ve offered you room and board out of the kindness of my heart, and at such a reasonable price. You wouldn’t throw all that back in my face by leaving, now would you?” His voice is smooth and even, taunting you. The underlying threat in his words sends chills down your spine.
“I appreciate all that, thank you.” You push the words out quickly. “But I don’t want to impose on you anymore. I’m sure I can arrange to stay with someone el-”
“You’ll do no such thing.” He cuts you off with a harsh growl. “You’ll stay where you are like a good little slut.”
You flinch at his words, but heat floods your stomach.
“Please, I can’t stay here forever.” You whisper, clenching your fingers around the phone cord.
“The way I see it, you don’t have much choice in the matter. You’re mine now, little mouse, let’s not forget that.”
A whimper forces its way past your lips, and you can’t be sure whether it’s in fear or in longing. You hate that your body is reacting to him like this. You’ve just jumped headfirst from one terrible situation and straight into one that’s even worse. And yet you find yourself practically buzzing with anticipation. You shake your head to disagree with him, but it doesn’t have much conviction behind it.
“There’s no use fighting it, little mouse. Besides, you didn’t seem to mind it last night.”
“I’m not. I can’t.” You gasp, but you don’t know what it is that you can’t do. Can’t stay here? Or can’t fight it? Does it even really matter?
“You can and you will.” His tone is sharp, demanding. You can feel your chest heaving in desperate breaths and his next words fill you with a delightful dread. “I want to hear you say it.”
“No.” It comes out in a whisper, and even to you it doesn’t sound very convincing.
“I want you think very carefully before you say ‘no’ to me again.” He speaks slowly, and the words sound like they’re coming from behind clenched teeth. “Now say it.”
You clench your fingers even tighter around the cord and feel the hard rubber press into your skin. After a moment you finally manage a response.
“I’m yours.” It’s barely audible, no more than a breath, but you know it��s true the moment you say it. Just admitting it fills you with a shocking longing.
“Again.”
“I’m yours.” Louder this time, it comes out in a breathy moan.
“That’s my good little slut, I knew you’d make the right decision.” He chuckles into the receiver, but his voice is deep with arousal. You clench your legs even tighter and grasp at your stomach with your free arm, desperate to relieve the throbbing heat at your core. “Does that get you off? Knowing you’re all fucking mine?” The rumbling of his voice in your ear and the desire behind his words has you gasping.
“Yes.” God, you wish he could step through the phone and take you right there, bend you over the desk and fuck you into oblivion.
“Then be a good little whore for me and take off your shirt.”
–
God, you’re exquisite.
Hearing your whimpers, watching you give in to him, knowing that you’re his? It’s enough to drive him insane. His cock is straining at the seam of his trousers and he can’t resist the urge to free it any longer. He takes himself in his hand with a satisfied groan, letting his head fall back against his chair and closing his eyes for just a moment to drink in the pleasure.
When he looks up again your hands are tangling themselves in the hem of your shirt as you chew your lip, pinching the phone between your ear and your shoulder. Just as he’s about to repeat his command you slowly begin to pull your shirt up.
You tip your head just so as you lift your shirt off over it, giving him the perfect view of the love bite he’d left at the base of your jaw as a parting gift. His cock jumps in his hand and he groans in satisfaction. He wants to leave his mark on every inch of your body, leave evidence of his presence everywhere he touches. His attention shifts to a deep, mottled bruise at the base of your neck, one that he knows he didn’t leave. The groan turns into a growl. He remembers the pathetic man whose voicemail he overheard you listening to the night before. The thought of another man putting his hands on you, leaving a mark on what’s his, fills him with rage. Your body is for him and him only, no one but him will ever touch you again. He’ll have to find a way to pry his name out of you, although the thought of anyone’s name but his on your lips makes him sick.
His attention comes back to you as your shirt drops to the ground. He’ll have time to worry about staking his claim on you later, he decides as he watches you bite your lip in anticipation, waiting for his next direction.
“Now the bra.” He breathes into the phone and watches as you slowly pull down the straps and undo the clasp, baring your breasts to him for the first time. He wishes that the monitors were bigger, that he had more than one angle to appreciate your delectable body. He wants to touch you, but settles for stroking his cock while he watches you squirm for him. He sees your eyes roaming around the room, looking for the camera that you must have realized is there by now. When you finally find it, staring up at him with wide, pleading eyes he can’t suppress a groan.
You're all his, and he plans to take full advantage of that.
–
You don’t know what’s come over you.
Your chest is heaving, your whole body trembling as you hang on his every word. A small part of your brain is still rebelling, telling you this is capital “B” bad and you should turn around and run straight out that door and never come back. But that thought can barely surface before it’s washed away by a flood of earth shattering arousal like you’ve never experienced before. You really should run… but you won’t.
His voice comes through the phone again.
“You wish I was there don’t you?” His voice was like velvet brushing against your skin. “Wish I could bend you over that desk and take what’s mine.” You gulp, had he seen your hungry glance towards it earlier? You nod frantically.
“I can’t hear you, little mouse.”
“Yes, please, come take what’s yours.” You rasp, you hear another groan on the other side of the line.
“Well then take off your pants and show me how much you want it.” You almost drop the phone in your haste to rip your jeans off and another deep chuckle signals his approval. “Now sit in the chair and face the camera.”
You do it without a thought, swiveling the chair around and crumbling heavily into it. Your practically soaking panties are the only barrier between your ass and the seat.
“Spread those legs for me, I want to imagine my face between them.” You obey with a moan. You’re desperate to touch yourself, desperate to plunge your hand into your panties and relieve the thrumming pressure between your thighs. You don’t dare to deviate from his instructions, so you sit there, the cold air and your arousal forming goosebumps on your skin.
A few minutes pass before his next direction, you can hear his deep breathing through the phone as it quickens. You realize with a gasp that he must be touching himself and the image in your head makes you throw your head back and groan. The thought of him stroking his cock to the sight of you is almost enough to push you over the edge and you haven’t even touched yourself yet. You haven’t even taken your panties off yet.
“Please.” You beg, and for what feels like the hundredth time in the last few hours you don’t know what it is you’re begging for.
“Stroke that pussy for me until you cum like the little slut you are.” He barely has time to groan out the words before you plunge your hand into your panties. You’re so sensitized that you gasp when your fingers meet flesh. You imagine that they’re his fingers and you whimper at the image. The sound of his ragged breathing in your ear tells you he’s matching your frantic pace.
“No one else will ever make you feel like that, little mouse.” His voice is tight and strained.
You groan as your hand works with feverish intensity. You’re so close.
“Whose are you?”
“Yours” You’re gasping for breath, his voice driving you wild with desire.
“Who owns your pussy?”
“You.” There isn’t anything you won’t agree too right now, as long as he doesn”t stop talking.
“And you won’t try to leave again.”
“Never.” You practically sob out the words, your brain going blank as your body takes over.
The intellectual part of your brain is sounding another alarm and desperately waving a red flag, but the red heat of your desire outweighs everything. You scream as you reach your peak, twitching and spasming as your muscles clench with a strength you’ve never known before.
You hear his breath stutter, and his deep groan sends another wave of pleasure through you. You imagine him coating his fist and thighs in his cum, all the while watching you from wherever his video feed leads.
Neither of you speak for a long moment, the only sounds filling the room are the twin sets of ragged breaths that come from you and the man on the other side of the phone.
“You won’t forget who you belong to again.” His words are both a threat and a promise. When the receiver clicks and the dial tone assaults your ears you collapse out of the chair and onto the floor, still quivering.
You are literally and figuratively fucked.
#my digital footprint will never recover from this one#william afton x you#william afton x reader#william afton#fnaf#fnaf smut#fnaf fic#five nights at freddy's#mochi writes#fnaf movie
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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐭
Summary: Eddie Munson made it big. Now, when he returns to Hawkins for a hometown concert with his band, he is reminded of the girl he's been in love with for the past 6 years when Steve Harrington calls.
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader WC: 13.6k
Warnings: 18+; Minors DNI; smut; piv; language; rough sex; bathroom sex (unprotected–wrap it before you tap it babes); some dirty talk; this is a whole ass fic. This is porn WITH plot besties.
Quick Links: Masterlist
“You’re a pervert, Eddie Munson,” You laughed, he smiled.
“Well, can you blame a guy? Look at you.” The way his eyes trailed. He was hunting and you were perfect prey.
“I can’t really… but you can.” Your bottom lip passed through your teeth quickly—barely grazing it as the top of your shoe ran along the inside of his leg. He was fucked.
There were more than five drunks inside of The Hideout.
The last few years had brought out a different side of Hawkins, hell, Indiana to this little bar in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere. It wasn't often that there were empty seats, that the bar wasn't overwhelmed with patrons, or that everyone inside hadn’t flocked to the dive for a taste of metal.
Corroded Coffin had made it—in a… regional success type of way.
Every year, the band returned to Hawkins after moving to the city to get more gigs. It acted as a reunion of sorts––bridging their past and present into a three-hour concert inside of a small bar where they had originated outside of Gareth’s garage. And much to their surprise when they had returned for the first time a few years before, the entire town had wanted in. For the first time they had felt accepted—but only because they had garnered some fame, not because they were cool, good people.
And Eddie always felt that superficial fanaticism seep through the walls that separated the band from the crowd because the only people he believed truly cared for him and his music rarely came. Steve, Nancy, Robin, the gaggle of kids (they will always be kids to him) from Hellfire, and you. Separate ways had led to a hundred different paths and rarely, if ever, did he see one of them lead back to Hawkins.
He had been completely and utterly enamored with you the moment he saw you stab a horrid, rabid bat straight through the eye. Eddie always wished it had been a more romantic story, but he had to admit it, you had never impressed him so much.
And then you graduated. Went off to college and kept in scattered contact with everyone.
But you never left his mind. As much as he wanted to move on from what he called a “silly crush” in retrospect, Eddie thought about you more often than he should have.
And no girl could compare. He always pondered the ‘what if’ and he’d be lying if the songs that dealt with unrequited romance didn’t have anything to do with you. He was stuck. So incredibly stuck and didn’t know what to do. Eddie believed he would never get the chance to see you again.
Until he got a call from Steve Harrington three days before he traveled back to Hawkins.
It was out of the blue. Eddie wasn’t even sure how Steve had his number because he was always on the move—half the time he and his bandmates slept in their bus because it was one destination after the other. Nevertheless, Steve had managed to reach him and the conversation had been replaying in his mind non-stop.
“Hey Eddie!”
Jeff was standing at the pay phone outside of the Dayton club they had been playing in. Corroded Coffin had begun to make their way to Hawkins slowly over the past month and they were almost there. The set was half completed, and they were in the middle of their break when the pay phone rang as if they were in the middle of a horror film. They were all drenched in sweat and their limbs were killing them, the crowd was absolutely blustering. Their gigs had become what they had always dreamed—a metal rave of sorts.
Eddie had been sitting on an overturned bucket smoking a cigarette when Jeff called out to him, hand over the transmitter as if his yell was going to change the mind of the caller.
“What?” Eddie replied, letting out a puff of smoke that blurred Jeff for a second.
“You gotta call! You’re gonna wanna take this one.”
He made it sound as though the President was calling… not that Eddie would ever answer that call. So, Eddie got up off his bucket and let the cigarette dangle from his mouth as he shooed Jeff away from the phone. Holding the phone in one hand and lifting his other to lean against the glass, Eddie sighed and answered.
“Yeah, this is Eddie.”
“Ah! Guys I got him!” Was what he heard in return. There was a scramble on the other line and Eddie furrowed his brows, confused at the excitement. No one was ever calling him unless it was Wayne, a groupie he had made an empty promise to, or someone looking to book them.
“Hello?” He asked more impatiently.
“Yeah, yeah, hold on man!” He knew exactly who it was. It had been 6 years, not a lifetime.
“Steve?”
“Woah oh! Mega Rock Star remembers me? Woulda thought you’d forgotten about us in Hawkins.” He imagined Steve was a little drunk, smiling widely into the phone as the sounds of shuffling made its way through the receiver.
“I don’t know if I’d classify us as ‘Mega Rock Stars’ but I’ll take it from you, Harrington.” Eddie grabbed the cigarette from his mouth.
“So why you callin’ me?”
“I heard your band is coming to Hawkins on Tuesday and we were wondering if we needed tickets or something to get in.” Steve sounded more distant, as if he was trying to get others on the call or at least let them have a chance to listen too.
“We?”
“Hi Eddie!” Robin’s voice was distinct, deep, and excitable through the static.
“Eddie! You really made it!” That was Nancy. She was always a little more reserved than Robin, more than Steve, but still kind to him.
Eddie moved the phone away from his mouth and chuckled. He couldn’t believe it, truly. He hadn’t expected to hear from anyone who he considered to be friends, who went through so much alongside of him, and helped him in a time of need but there, on the phone, were three people who had.
“So you all wanna come? Is that what I’m getting from this?” He asked and all of them replied at once. Each along the lines of “yes” but scattered types of replies.
“And if we could, I think a few others want to stop in too.”
He hoped Steve knew what that made Eddie believe.
“These others… they’re not just bottom feeders looking for a good time?” Eddie proposed instead. He felt a shot of nervousness surge inside of him. God, he felt like a teenager.
“No, no…” Robin laughed into the phone, “they’re friends, Eddie. You’ll be glad to see them. Some are even traveling home for this so you better put on a good show.”
Eddie knew Dustin and Lucas had gone out of state for college. He had sent them two records as presents and received a group call the next day in thanks. Eddie knew that’s who it had to be but Robin still said some. He was still holding out a little hope.
“Hey Eddie! Come on! Time to go!” Jeff called out from beyond the pay phone. He was the last to walk back into the venue as the door opened to loud amps shaking the building.
“Listen, guys,” Eddie said quickly, trying to use his final seconds wisely, “I’ll um, I’ll call the place after we leave tomorrow and get you on a list.”
Eddie watched Jeff disappear through the door and knew his time was almost up.
“I gotta go but just go to the bar and they’ll bring you in. I’ll put you at a table so you don’t get ambushed by anyone.” Considerate.
“And drinks are on the house too.”
“Fuck yeah!” Robin screeched and disconnected her line.
“Sounds great, Eddie. We’ll see you on Tuesday.” Nancy said and disconnected herself too. Steve remained on the line.
“Awesome, man,” Steve replied, surely nodding his head in approval. Eddie felt something lingering there but didn’t push. However, he did need the names.
Eddie looked around him, trying to find someone who could help his pen-less situation but couldn’t find anyone. He patted down his jacket, the pockets of his jeans but nothing. And perhaps he waited too long, but Gareth came back out, looking at him exasperatedly.
Eddie waved him over quickly. The dude always had a pen. He put the cigarette back in his mouth.
“I’ll need the names, Steve,” Eddie said over the phone and shoved it between his ear and shoulder. Gareth ran over.
“I need a pen. You got one?”
Gareth summoned a pen from his pocket as though it were the one ring.
“Names, Steve,” Eddie repeated, slightly muffled by the cigarette he tried not to lose.
“All right, all right,” Steve fumbled. In his childhood home in Hawkins, Steve, Nancy, and Robin all stood around the phone counting the people in the party.
“Me, Robin, Nancy, Henderson, Sinclair, Jonathan…” Steve trailed off and Eddie felt his heart sink.
“That all?”
“Um,” Steve was listening to the two women rattle off names, “Max, and Vicky… oh and Y/n.”
“Y/n?”
Eddie felt Steve was dangling a prize at the end of a fishing hook.
“Yeah. She’s coming in from Indianapolis.”
Indianapolis.
“She work there?” Eddie couldn’t help but ask. Gareth gave him a look.
“Yeah teaches now… English or… History or something.”
“Oh,” Eddie answered and finished writing the names on the inside of his forearm. Gareth watched him write your name last, so clear, and careful. He knew now why Eddie was acting the way he was. “I didn’t know she moved.”
“Yeah… somethin’ about wanting to be closer to the city or whatever… a part of me thinks she was trying to find you.” Steve laughed. Eddie didn’t.
“What?” Eddie’s response had come out as a whisper of words and Steve hadn’t heard it.
“So we’ll see you Tuesday, yeah? Go play your heart out, dude.”
Then Steve hung up.
And it was the phone call he had been waiting for hear after all these years.
He played that Dayton show with so much excitement he made a girl faint in the front row… and it was all because of a stupid little phone call from a state away.
The station wagon was packed full of a palpable energy no one could explain.
It was strange; venturing off to a new adventure that wasn’t filled with danger together, but it was new, and above all else, nice. The memories that Nancy’s station wagon had held were far more interesting upon reflection than they had been at the time. And you listened to each story from the middle section, squashed beside the window between Steve, Dustin and Jonathan as Max and Lucas took the back and Vicky, Robin, and Nancy sat in the front.
You couldn’t stop tapping your fingers against your knee.
Robin was droning on about a Halloween party a few years back that you hadn’t gone to when you accidentally tapped Steve’s leg instead of your own. You shot a sorry look at him in a rapid response.
“Sorry about that.”
“It’s fine,” he reassured you, watching you look out the side window in return. You had been wearing a sparkly black dress––one Robin had swooned over in the kitchen with Vicky.
From all the years he had known you, you were never a 'sparkly little black dress’ kind of girl to Steve. Except tonight you were. And he smiled at it. He turned his head forward and caught Robin and Nance’s eyes in the mirror because they were all on the same page.
Eddie Munson had been infatuated with you for as long as they could remember and you, as personable and charismatic as you were, couldn’t pluck up the courage to accept the same about yourself.
“Nervous or something?” Steve knocked your shoulder. You didn’t tear yours eyes away from the window.
“No, I’m fine.”
“You’re a little jittery.”
“I pregamed.”
“Where?”
“With Robin.”
“At my house?” Steve looked knowingly. You hadn’t touched a drop at his place.
“Sure.”
“Are you listening to me? What’s wrong?”
You turned and looked at him, eyes a little spaced out from the present inside of the vehicle and saw not only Steve looking at you, but Dustin and Jonathan too. You knew the others were listening.
“Nothing’s wrong.”
Everything was wrong. Your stomach was in tumbles. You hadn’t seen Eddie in the flesh for 6 goddamn years and the last time you saw him all you wanted to do was jump his bones. So, how, in good conscious, could you look at the man again and think you wouldn’t feel the same.
Surely he was still the same Eddie you had liked before… just a little older and a bit more sure of himself. The self-certainty was what you were afraid of, however. You didn’t know if you could get yours back.
“If you’re going to lie to me I’d rather it be about something stupid.”
“I’m not lying about anything,” you defended, eyes going stern, “I’m fine.”
“She’s nervous about seeing Eddie.” Max spoke up from the back as she leaned her elbows in the small gap between Dustin and Jonathan. You narrowed your eyes directly at her, willing your mouth to open but no sound came out.
“It’s okay, Y/n,” she reaffirmed your unvocalized feelings without hesitation, “things just got in the way last time.”
“Yeah and I’m sure if he’s still the same old Eddie we know he’ll be head over heels for you,” Lucas supported her belief and you felt your head go hot. You couldn’t believe they were airing your dirty laundry in the car like this. 6 years passed and they still read you like their favorite children’s book.
“How could he not? She’s still a fucking smoke show,” Robin laughed, to which Vicky agreed. Nancy tried to hold in her giggle but the eldest Wheeler smiled so widely you could see the lines from her eyes from your position in the car.
“Listen,” Steve piped up again, “they come to Hawkins once a year… you don’t live here anymore, neither does he, and maybe, just maybe, there is a reason for everything to come home.
“You sound like a horoscope, Steve.”
“I was a matchmaker in my other life. I thought you knew that?” He narrowed his eyes teasingly, trying to make you feel less anxious about seeing him again.
“If he is anything like he sounded on the phone, Eddie still holds a candle for you.”
Steve hadn’t told you he talked to Eddie. This outing had been planned for weeks without so much of a word that anyone had still talked to him consistently—besides Dustin. Dustin certainly pestered Eddie over the phone about his Sophomore college problems. Eddie never knew how to properly reply to his concerns in turn.
“You talked to him?” Dustin furrowed his brows at Steve as Robin turned around in her seat to listen, “when?”
“A few days ago,” Steve was sheepish. He hadn’t wanted anyone to know he had extended his arm asking for a favor.
“About what?” Dustin lamented.
“Just about the concert, man,” Steve sighed, pointedly not looking at you.
“And did he say anything of importance?” Robin pushed Steve as her hand knocked against his knee in a slap. He shifted uncomfortably. She had been on the call for 20 seconds, maximum, and didn’t hear what had been said once she hung up.
“Well,” he started, “we talked for a bit and Nance and Robin were on the line too—“
“For a second!” Robin interjected.
“—and then he asked for the names.”
“That’s all?”
“That can’t be it,” Robin made a face, “you were still on the phone when we left the room.”
“He asked about you, okay?” He gestured to you, closing his eyes in defeat. You stopped tapping your fingers and looked at him with serious eyes.
“It isn’t!?” He folded his arms across his chest the best he could, “you listened to ABBA and Journey and all of a sudden in college you got real into metal and we all thought it was strange!”
“I was expanding my interests!“
“To get him!”
“People experiment in college, Steve. In more ways than one.”
“You’re telling me that you moved, changed interests, and then faltered back to the plan you had since you were five in the span of a few years? You went out there hoping to run into him because you didn’t know how else to approach him.”
“You’re just being mean now,” you scoffed, turning your head back to the window. Robin and Steve glanced at one another before Dustin nudged him to do something.
“Y/n,” he sighed, “we can argue about the past all we want but we are ten minutes from seeing him again and I don’t want to watch two of my friends, our friends, dance around their feelings again. For all of our sakes, just say something to him.”
“Steve, just let it go,” you mumbled quietly and began chipping away at the nail polish you had applied hours before.
They all felt a little defeated in that car.
“Fine, fine,” he said and threw his hands up in exasperation as the others watched in a necessary pity. It wasn’t easy being open. It wasn’t easy being willing to show a vulnerable side of yourself that you’d been holding onto for years.
“But if you do end up needing to pound one out together, there’s a great bathroom at The Hideout.”
“Steve!”
The Hideout and surrounding businesses were packed. Never, in all your years living in Hawkins, had seen it so busy and the thought that Eddie and his bandmates had brought this many people to a little bar made you happy.
He had made it like he always wanted to.
Steve had taken the lead once you had arrived and the bouncer at the door led the group of you to two booths just off the left side of the stage they had assembled for the band. It was already claustrophobic inside but the idea that you all had somewhere to go was comforting—quelled your nerves in the slightest.
Jonathan and Steve had taken the liberty to gather drink orders and the group was split into two. The ‘kids’ in the booth closer to the front and the ‘adults’ in the one behind. It was easier to designate it that way even if everyone was an adult now. You sat squashed between Nancy and Robin, Vicky letting her eyes wander the room beside Robin.
“You all right?” Nancy asked, her big eyes sincere, “Steve was kinda being a dick in the car.”
“It’s fine, Nance. Really,” you played with the hem of your dress under the table. Suddenly, you threw up your hands and let your head fall into them on the table.
“I don’t know why I’m so fucking nervous,” you exclaimed muffled in your hands, “it’s like my confidence jumped out of a goddamn plane.”
“Being nervous isn’t a bad thing, babes,” Robin told you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. She looked at Nancy for support but she was lost on what to do. You had it down bad. “We all get nervous around people we like.”
“That’s the problem, Robin,” you said, pulling your head out of your hands and looking her dead in the eye. “I think I’ve been in love with him since I was in high school.”
Well, shit.
“I’m sure he’s got roadies and girls willing to do anything for him and I’m nothing like them… I literally have a stack of papers to grade tomorrow even though I know I’m going to be hungover. He’s a-a rock star or at least on his way to becoming one.”
“Bon Jovi’s wife was his high school sweetheart,” Nancy mentioned and Robin nodded her head. Sure, but that was a single case. A single case.
“It’s just not the same as it was.”
“Jesus, Y/n… could you be any more of a downer?” Steve returned with Jonathan in tow carrying a mix of beverages for everyone. “You need to get drunk because I cannot stand another second of you moping around like the world is ending. We’ve been there, we’ve made it out, and we’re going to have a good night and enjoy watching Eddie rock his fucking ass off like we knew he always would.”
Steve sat beside Vicky and passed you your vodka cran.
“And if you don’t want to get drunk, at least get some liquid courage to look the guy in the eye.”
He lifted his glass once everyone had received theirs.
“Henderson!”
Dustin looked over the wall of the booth, making eye contact with you as if he was expecting something else but saw Steve’s raised glass and the others stood obnoxiously on their seats.
“To old friends and finding the courage to get what we want.”
“Cheers!”
You downed the glass in one take.
You stopped at 2.
The drinks were strong and you still wanted to know what was going on by the end of the night and the moment the house lights went a little dim, the want to drink disappeared.
When he walked onto that stage your heart nearly imploded in your chest.
Everyone at the two tables squealed and cheered, their smiles contagious as they watched the crowd react to the band they had become. It was chaotic and full, filled with loud singers and louder instruments but everyone was having a good time. Drinks were flowing, the air was cloudy from smoke, and no one cared what anyone else was doing.
You had never seen him so in his element. So confident in his abilities that you wonder where your own had went over the last few days. He played like his life depended on it, fully immersed in the music surrounding him.
When he picked up that guitar and ripped the first chords, it was as though God had reached a hand into his soul and told him, play.
It was intoxicating. Just the images seared into your mind as his fingers played deftly on the board and the way his smile could light up the room. He knew exactly where you all were and every now and again, he’d look over, intentionally, and you swore that every time he looked, there was more than just simple joy swimming in your direction.
Slowly, you calmed. The anxiety began to wash a way as time went on and after an entire two hours of non-stop metal, there was a break. 30 minutes and the scene around you was still electric.
Nancy finished her beer, snacking on some mixed bar nuts as she watched the water from the melted ice drip down your cup. No one checked back in on you, but they felt a shift in your air. It wasn’t tense or anxious, you had finally settled into the woman they knew—maybe with a little fear still lingering.
“You wanna go with me to the bar? I want another,” she pointed to her beer as she leaned into you. You didn’t see why not, missing the glance she shared with Robin and Robin then shared with Steve.
The trip to the bar was like walking through a maze. There were people everywhere and when there wasn’t a person, there was a table or a chair. You swore halfway there a piece of a girls hair touched your mouth because the pungent smell of hairspray was worse being consumed. And in all honesty, the bar wasn’t any better. It didn’t help that there were tall men trying to flag over the three bartenders or that some girl had half of her chest out to get free drinks.
But who were you to judge? Everyone was just having a good time.
“What do you want?” Nancy asked you as she grazed the taps just behind a few bodies blocking the physical bar top.
“I-I don’t know, Nance, ah, um, I’ll just take whatever you’re having,” you replied, not really paying attention because of the people bumping into you from behind.
Nancy, in her abundance of smartass behaviors, pushed her way to the front and after a second, a little gap opened up. She took the stool she could see and you stood next to her, your hands gripping the bar tightly.
“You better now?” She asked with an eyebrow raised.
“Jesus Christ…” you muttered, rolling your eyes.
“You’ve seen him, you’ve sat there for two hours and everything’s fine. Just like we said.”
“That doesn’t change how I feel on the inside.”
“Well…” Nancy’s back perked up. You saw her eyes gleam, the smile on her face breaking across every feature, “Better boost your confidence, girlie. He’s coming this way.”
Before you could question anything, you felt a hand on your lower back. You felt almost weightless. Like the room had paused and you’d remember that feeling of his hand on your back.
“My eyes aren’t deceiving me, are they?” His voice was a little worn. The kind anyone would get if they spent too many nights singing along to songs or screaming into a crowd. “Nancy Wheeler and Y/n L/n here in the flesh.” He still hadn’t removed his hand.
Nancy smiled wide, happy to see him again after so long. She hopped off of her chair, brushing beside you best she could to give him a hug. He removed his hand from you and hugged her tightly, giving her a friendly kiss on the cheek.
You could see some of the other women in the bar. Their eyes lingering on him. They knew who he was; waiting for their turn to pounce.
You felt the ugly bug of jealousy begin to grow.
“Look at you!” Nancy leaned back, taking Eddie’s look in with all her excitement. “You did it!”
“Not quite yet but I’ll take it,” he laughed, removing himself from her and she quickly realized she made a mistake getting up. Her seat was gone. Eddie looked at you.
God. He had a smile plastered on his face. His cheeks were red, his hair sticking a bit onto his head from sweat, and he was wearing a worn Ozzy shirt under a new, perfectly tailored leather jacket. You wouldn’t have known that he was putting on a brave face. That his heart was hammering against his chest seeing you there.
“It’s good to see you,” he started, his eyes wandering no differently than they had in any of your earlier encounters. He was quite shameless when it came to checking people out. “I wasn’t sure if Steve was telling the truth that you’d actually be here.”
You tried to play it cool too, “and miss Gareth on the drums?” You smiled, unable to not match his own, “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
And as if it were second nature, Eddie pulled you in for a hug too. Different than Nancy, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and you around his torso. Your hands splayed across his back, feeling the distinct texture of leather underneath your finger tips.
Instead of kissing your cheek, he kissed the side of your head. Right where your forehead ended and hair began. You didn’t see him close his eyes to savor it. He felt you squeeze the back of his jacket.
Nancy felt like a third wheel. But a giddy one.
“How long has it been?” He asked you specifically, barely pulling away. He still had his arms wrapped around you and you him. “Six years?”
“Sounds about right,” you replied, gazing into his brown eyes that could swallow you whole. The creases along the edges—smile lines, per se—were more prominent but he was one who couldn’t help but smile when he was happy. He was amazed by so much.
You felt his fingers graze the spot where your neck peaked out from the dress.
“That’s a little too long.”
“Yeah, well…” you couldn’t help but glance down at his lips, “we’ve all got different things goin’ on now.”
He repeated what you had done with your own eyes. It made some of the fears begin to wash away.
Nancy looked sheepishly at the ground, biting back a smile. She took a second to look around the room and saw Robin standing above everyone else from the booth’s seat. That sneaky shit. Robin began waving frantically, calling Nancy back to the table in a haste.
“Oh!” Nancy said rather loudly, pulling you away from the bubble you hadn’t realized you were sucked into. You let go of Eddie, pulling away and leaning back into your spot at the bar.
“I forgot to ask the others what they wanted!” She said almost as though she was reading a script unnaturally. You frowned knowing they all brushed you two off.
“I don’t—“ you began but she was gone before you could get a sound out. She was playing matchmaker too. You sighed, shaking your head before turning back to Eddie. He was already looking.
“So, are you getting something or looking for the rest of them?” You asked, “they’re all at the first two booths over there.” A finger pointing in the direction of the booths led you to see a pop of hair disappearing from above everyone else.
“I was gettin’ a beer,” he responded with a nod but a man clapped him on the back before he could continue.
“Great show, man!”
And then another, “Fuckin’ rocks, dude!”
Followed by others beginning to realize that the man standing beside you was one of the members of the band they had come to see.
“Can you sign this?”
“We saw you in Chicago last year. It was great!”
“I managed to drag my girl to one of your shows and she’s loves you now! I don’t know how I can compete!”
Eventually it had become one after another and you wondered if he got this reception everywhere. You turned back to the bar and waved over one of the bartenders, a female, and was happy she could get you something. She put down a napkin in front of you.
“What can I get you?”
“Two Blue Moons, tap please,” you ordered and she nodded, eyeing Eddie behind you as he graciously thanked each person and tried to break free of their incessant badgering. He only had 30 minutes.
“You know him?” she asked, pulling a cup from the wooden slats and grabbing the hose. Her head tipped in his direction.
“Yeah,” you cleared your throat, “old friends.”
“You’re lucky,” she laughs and hands one of the beers over, “everyone wants to be friends with him.”
You turned over your shoulder and saw a gaggle of girls hovering. Their faces were bright and flustered. One put her hand on Eddie’s arm, which he took back quickly. He wedged it between you and the patron sitting next to you, leaning onto the bar so they didn’t touch him.
But his arm was touching you. He was barely leaning into you, but you noticed. Your body was on fire any time he was close.
His fingers gripped the bar tightly as if he was trying to disappear through it. The rings on his hand were less familiar but you recognized the pig that glinted in the light.
“So they do,” you looked back at her and she smiled, “how much?” For the beers. She shook her head.
“On the house,” she pointed at Eddie.
“Thanks,” was all you could say in reply.
Both glasses in your hand, you turned back around and nudged his arm that was leaning on the bar. His head immediately turned to you—hair still frizzy and wildly falling around his face as you held one out to him. The girls behind him miffed from the lack of attention.
“Here,” you motioned for him to take it with his free hand but he shook his head, face going a little sour. You furrowed your brows thinking it had something to do with the beer except he tipped his chin to the bar.
“Put them on the bar,” he said sternly, feeling the grabby hands of those girls on the arm that was free. The space was so confined he knew it wouldn’t end well with a beer in his hand.
“Eddie!” One of them called and you could see it in his eyes that it was the last thing he wanted to do. He didn’t want to pay any attention to them.
Eddie was learning the boundaries of fans and signing things. Saying hello, taking a picture were fine but the moment they invaded his space, the moment they put people he cared for in any kind of danger, he drew the line. Something inside of him told him it was building to that.
“Eddie! Can you take a picture with us?” They had their camera ready, a guy, maybe one of their boyfriends, was holding the camera for them.
He looked at you apologetically. Who were you to prevent him from making a fan(s) happy?
“It’s fine, go on,” you told him with a nod, hoping your eyes conveyed that.
They wrapped their arms around him. They held on tightly while he barely touched them. When the flash went off and nearly blinded you from the back, more people noticed he was standing there and you felt the situation was just getting worse. You wanted to stay here with him but not at the expense of your comfort. If you went back to the booth now, no one would notice.
Scattered thank you’s from the girls were audible over the light tunes from the stereo that broke through the talking amongst the room. Some guys followed their picture by shaking his hand.
“Hey, listen man,” Eddie started when another came up to him, “I only have so much time so if you don’t mind…” He felt he got lucky when the man understood.
But good barely lasts long.
Eddie turned around, looking you dead in the eye and you could see the drain it had on him. People were badgering when it came to seeing someone remotely well known. They were a new band, growing every year. It would only get worse the more popular they became.
He made his way back over to the bar a couple steps away. His one arm resumed its place beside you and the other reached around you from the other side. For a moment, he had caged you into the bar and the courage and confidence you had always had didn’t waver. Your heart was beating so fast.
He pulled back just a little, returning his arm in front of him and you realized he grabbed his beer.
But he smirked. He was teasing you.
“Blue Moon, huh?” He asked, savoring the taste of it on his tongue, licking the top of his lip as he observed the cup.
“Well if I knew it was on the house…” you told him as a joke. He smiled and it met his eyes, those lines defined on his face.
“You can blame Steve for not telling you. I told him it was free.”
You hummed, looking behind him as that same group of girls remained.
“You have some… fans…” you weren’t sure you could call them that. Eddie dipped his head, you heard the defeated sigh and he shuffled his feet, tapping on the bar with his one hand. The unintentional shuffle brought him an inch closer. You could feel the edge of his jacket—the zipper dangling freely—meet your arm.
“They’re groupies. Well, groupies without the love of music.”
“Yeah I can tell,” you met one of their eyes briefly before looking away. You couldn’t meet his eyes after the stare that girl was giving you. It made your skin crawl. “Do they always do this?”
“Some are less aggressive,” he took another drink of his beer. You had forgotten about your own. “But they’re all on the same spectrum I suppose.”
One of them moved and you didn’t know if you could take being berated for nothing by a girl who just wanted to get in his pants. She hadn’t loved him for years, you did. You grasped the part of his jacket that had been closest to you. Instinctively, he leaned in closer, nearly cocooning you into the small space.
“How much time do you have?” He glanced at the watch that was on the wrist of the hand with the beer.
“10 minutes or so. Why?” He searched your face, never missing your lips as he shot his eyes around.
“Because that girl, the one with the blonde hair and yellow headband is coming over here and gave me the goddamn death glare when I looked at her.”
Eddie’s hair fell from his shoulder and hung beside him. You could feel the edges of it meet the side of your face.
“You have a dressing room or something…? I don’t know what kind of things bars have,” you were holding onto him so tightly.
“Yeah they gave us a room…” he put his beer on the bar and stood up straight. He held out his hand to you.
Six years. Six years you had waited for him to hold out his hand to you in more than a friendly way. There was something about the air, the tension you felt when he looked at you that told you this was the moment you had been waiting for.
“Come on,” he tipped his head toward the back of the venue. You grabbed his hand without a second thought.
You made it halfway. His hand had covered yours, holding on tightly and occasionally swiping his thumb across your fingers in comfort. You could see some of the people looking. You pretended they weren’t whispering about you. All you were thinking about was the perfect way his hand encapsulated yours when you were jerked to the side and his grasp broke.
“Wh—“ he didn’t take two steps to know you were gone and at once turned around to see that girl with the yellow headband was closer to him than you were. You were apologizing to a table of fans as one of their cups had tipped over, the liquid dripping onto the floor onto your shoes.
“What the fuck?” He barely whispered as he watched the scene before him. Eddie walked back to you, trying to avoid the girl when she cut in front of his path.
She gave a big, cheesy smile, “you gotta minute?” Her gum popped in her mouth.
“Wh—no, no, I don’t have a minute…” he brushed her aside and went to you, assuring the table they hadn’t done anything wrong.
“I’m sorry, God,” you were apologetic for something you didn’t have control over, “I didn’t mean to do that. Let me get you—“
“It’s on the house, guys, just tell them I said so,” Eddie grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the table before they could wrap their heads around what happened.
The girl was still standing there as you passed again and she tried to grab your arm. However, Eddie was more than prepared to defend you—the only person he’d be willing to make a scene for. He pulled you close, turning to point a finger accusingly at the blonde-haired woman with a sneer.
“Don’t fucking touch her! If I see you near her again I will throw you out myself, got it?”
The girl was speechless and so were you, for far different reasons nonetheless.
“Got it!?” He yelled at her and the people chatting in the area around you quieted. You put one of your hands on his stomach as the other one was clutched in his own. Your palm spread; it was telling her he was already taken.
“Come on, let’s go,” you urged him. And because he knew it was the right thing to do, he led you behind a brown wooden door and the bright, fluorescent lights of the hallway to the dressing rooms was never so greatly welcomed.
Eddie didn’t know how one moment years in the making could change the course of his personal life.
From the time he left Hawkins with Corroded Coffin to make it big, his mind was jumbled; lost in differing aspects from friends he had been leaving behind and a system of systemic poverty that had failed him. Somewhere inside of The Hideout Eddie felt his luck shifting. Maybe it was your hand in his being strung along the bright hallway, or maybe it was the fact he had grown into his confidence and could stick up for himself and you without fear of retaliation because he was no longer at the bottom of the food chain.
It was a redemption of sorts.
“Eddie, Eddie,” he heard his name being called but blood was pounding in his ears. He couldn’t believe the audacity of people when they didn’t have a relation or acquaintanceship with someone. You see people on TV or hear them on the radio and suddenly, it’s as if they’re not truly a person anymore. It was the downside, the absolute bottom of the barrel feeling, when it came to pursuing his dreams.
“Hey, hey, Eddie, wait a second,” your voice was firmer, a light pull back on the grip he had on your hand, and he stopped. He had always been good at keeping others’ comfort at the top of his list and he wasn’t going to stop just because he was a bit angry.
“Just wait,” you breathed, finally catching up to him and staying so close.
“It’s fine, okay?” You were concerned. He could see it in your face. This isn’t how he planned to see you again. In fact, he had been so nervous he smoked two blunts instead of one before the show. He was surprised that it didn’t mellow him out more.
“I’m fine, you’re fine. Just let it go.”
“She had no right to touch you like that,” if your voice had been firm, his was unmoving. It was steadfast in leveled anger that boundaries were breeched and it could have gone a lot worse than it had.
“She didn’t hurt me if that’s what you want to hear.”
Eddie didn’t know what he wanted to hear. He wanted to hear that you were fine; he wanted to hear that you were happy; he wanted to hear that what he did was fucking hot and maybe, just maybe you would give him a chance if he took it. Eddie Munson wanted to hear the reason why you hadn’t reached out to him for six goddamn years while life continued to turn.
He had so many question and he had been overthinking them for days.
He ran a hand through his frizzy waves and held them intertwined above his head.
“Steve told me you moved to Indy to find me.”
If you were a ghost, now was the time to disappear.
“Is that true?”
You put your hands on your hips and looked anywhere but him.
“Y/n, if it’s not true just say so and you can go back to them but if it’s not, tell me. Please.” You never thought Eddie would be one to beg. But here he was, standing in front of you, begging, for you to tell him.
The dance between you two had been a long and winding road. Stolen glances, touches that lasted too long, and the palpable tension your friends felt was enough to shoot off fireworks between you. It was electric, sizzling, majestic. There wasn’t a day that you didn’t think about what he was doing, who he might be with—and it was no surprise that Eddie often wondered the same of you.
“Is that why you asked about me on the phone? Because you thought I had followed you out there?”
“No,” he shook his head, dropping his hands.
“I asked because I wanted to know if you had a reason for never contacting me. I thought we were friends, at least friends who would keep in touch.”
“I never knew what to say,” you admitted as your head dropped to glance at the floor. Beer was still shining up at you on your glossy shoes. “I feel like there was almost too much that no words would come out.”
Eddie nodded—knowing well you had not answered his question. “Did you think I wouldn’t remember you or somethin’? I can tell you that would never happen.” He laughed at the thought.
“That wasn’t it… I don’t really know how to explain it,” you knew exactly how to explain it.
‘Eddie, I’ve been in love with you for years and I was afraid you had moved on to other women because they were your style.’
‘Eddie, I would do anything for you but I’m scared of my feelings not being validated.’
“Well, you’re here now,” he proposed with a rather hopeful look on his face, “you still smoke or is that too metal for you now?”
“How could I? My dealer ran off to be a superstar.”
“Well, I’m here now and got a bag of weed in my case. What do you say to that?”
“I say it’s not going to smoke itself.”
The dressing room was small. Littered with equipment and travel bags. A dirty mirror hung on the furthest wall from the door and each member of the band was crammed inside. Eddie opened the door with a push as an unknown stickiness had caught the seal. Each guy looked up at the intruder.
“Hey, we were looking for you,” Jeff said and reached for water on the table. “We go back on in five.”
Eddie nodded mindlessly as he opened the door further to let you slip under his arm and into the room. The two that you had gone to high school with smiled widely––having known that Eddie was absolutely soaring on the inside. The band had found two other members you didn’t know after they had escaped the grasp of Hawkins’ hell and they sat chatting on a sofa.
“You’re shitting me right now!” Gareth said, getting up from his stool and grabbing his glass that sat on the table beside Jeff. “I thought you said she wasn’t coming!”
He had talked about you. Recently.
“I said I wasn’t sure!” Eddie corrected him and led you to the corner where he stored his things. You hopped onto the vanity and felt like a spotlight was on you from the bulb of lights. “Besides, it’s none of your business anyway,” Eddie occupied himself searching through one of his cases for the weed.
“We go on in five minutes, man. Did you not hear Jeff?”
“I heard you, I heard you,” Eddie mumbled and grasped a tin with certain fingers. It was an old snuff can that had become so worn down that the branding was gone. Eddie opened the lid and pulled out one of the rolled joints he had stored inside. He lifted it to his lips before turning back to Gareth.
He took a second, glancing over at you as you picked at your nail polish and walked over to Jeff and Gareth instead. The other two outside of the circle knew not to get in between the lifelong friends. You couldn’t hear their mumbles but Eddie was rather animated in his movements.
“Listen, I just need like… a half hour. Give me a half hour and I’ll owe you big time. Just give me this.”
The two wanted to argue. They wanted to be a band that didn’t have members who caused issues but they saw the look in Eddie’s eyes. They knew how much he liked you and with how much he talked about you, they couldn’t not give him the chance. The band came to Hawkins once every year and who knows if Eddie would get the chance again.
Jeff checked his watch. They had to go.
“Half hour. If you’re not out there I will come and get you, I don’t care what situation you’re in.”
Eddie patted them both on the back.
“Shane, Mickey,” Jeff called over to the other two, “let’s go. Eddie needs a minute.”
And Eddie watched them leave the room with the blunt still hanging out of his mouth. When he turned back to you, the air changed too.
You sat, cross legged and leaning on top of the vanity like a muse. Sparkly dress with shiny lips and glinting eyes, it was intoxicating. He grabbed the stool Jeff was sitting on and placed it in front of you—just close enough where his knees tapped your leg as he spread out; unashamed that he was man-spreading right where you slotted between him. He drew a lighter from his jacket and lit the blunt. With a puff he passed it to you.
“They willingly accepted your disappearance?” You questioned, blowing smoke off to the side in the most glamorous way he had ever seen.
“Only for a bargain. You know them… always looking for a steal…” he watched your lips purse around the stick—plump and inviting. “Besides, they had a good enough conscious to let this one slide.”
“Why? Because it’s just silly ol’ me?” You fluttered your eyelashes, smiling at him with perfect poise before passing back the blunt. His fingers grazed yours.
“It’s never just ‘silly ol’ you’” he repeated, “you fuckin’… light up the room when you walk in. So, no.”
You tried to hide your smile, but it was hard when he was so blatant.
“You know I was nervous about tonight,” you admitted sheepishly, “felt like you had forgotten about us now that you made a name for yourself.”
“I told you that would never happen.”
“Yeah, but the mind has a funny way of playing tricks on us like that.”
“There could be a million people in a room, and I’d still find you right away, Y/n,” Eddie’s eyes were filled with something you couldn’t quite place. Kindness and sincerity aside, the man was not quiet about his wants or needs. You just hadn’t allowed yourself to accept them because you were scared about letting someone in. Someone that you liked a lot and someone you knew could make you happy.
Happiness made people vulnerable. Vulnerable people got hurt.
“So you did ask about me? Wanted to know what I was up to?” You inquired.
“Did you move to the city for me?” He asked instead.
“It was part of it, yeah.” It was the answer he wanted.
“Why didn’t you call?”
You laughed, taking the blunt back, and taking a minute to think of a comprehensive answer. “I didn’t call because I was scared of being one of them,” you pointed to the door and he understood that you were referencing those girls.
“They hounded you like you were Bruce Springsteen…how was I supposed to compete with that or be something different?”
If he hadn’t known for certain that you held a candle for him as he did you, he did now. He was relieved in a sense.
“I think it’s funny,” he watched as you unfolded your legs, the dress hiking up in the slightest as you moved forward on the vanity. He also felt the choice to man-spread before you were beginning to be a mistake if anything went wrong. He wouldn’t be able to hide anything. “That you’d think you would be like them… you’re nothing like them.”
“And what am I like?”
Your confidence had returned. A flirtatious smile played at your lips when you swung your leg just enough to let the outline of your shoe rub against his pants. The blunt was still burning between your fingertips.
Eddie knew it was now or never. So he let loose too.
“What are you like?” He looked inquisitively at you. A finger tapping on his chin as if he was deep in thought for a moment. “I think the obvious is smart and pretty… but not school girl kind of pretty.”
“No?”
“No…” he shook his head, “the pretty that doesn’t think she is. The kind that is too kind to accept a compliment but should know she’s more than that.”
“More than pretty?” Your face was hot. You could feel the fire burning within you. Eddie Munson calling you pretty as he spread before you and shared a blunt while the beginnings of his bands second set began to shake the room.
“Beautiful.”
“Beautiful?”
“Gorgeous.”
“Gorgeous?”
You repeated the words slowly. He couldn’t help the smile on his own face. His cheeks were red, the hands folded in his lap were sweaty but he would never admit that.
“The mostest.” You laughed at his grammar. It was technically true, it just sounded awkward.
“Fucking beautiful.”
You didn’t repeat that.
“You, Y/n, are the most fucking beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life and I’ve thought that for six years.”
“Six?”
“Since you jumped into the water at Lover’s Lake to save Steve.”
God, it felt like yesterday.
“And do you know what?” He questioned, not expecting you to respond, “I have thought about you ever single day since.”
“Every day?”
“Each one. And when I was on stage, I looked. Hoping maybe you’d show up one day. I thought about you when I was alone… when I had company…”
“You’re a pervert, Eddie Munson,” You laughed, he smiled.
“Well, can you blame a guy? Look at you.” The way his eyes trailed. He was hunting and you were perfect prey.
“I can’t really… but you can.” Your bottom lip passed through your teeth quickly—barely grazing it as the top of your shoe ran along the inside of his leg. He was fucked.
“I can. I do.”
“Why has it taken this long to admit it?”
“Time wasn’t always on our side…” he sucked in a breath when you put the blunt out right on the counter top. It made a sickening sizzle, burning black onto its white finish. He would probably be charged for that but in the moment he didn’t care.
“But we’re here now…” you proposed. You moved forward again, barely touching him until you got to your feet and stood in front of him. “Time can stand still for a little while…”
You were waiting on him to make the move.
He stood from the stool, pushing it backwards with his foot. He was close again, just as he had been at the bar but this time there wasn’t anything stopping him. No one in his way and for the remaining minutes he had been granted, he had only you.
Eddie’s hands cupped your face.
“You’d never be one of them, baby,” you just about fell over, “you’ve always been my number one girl.”
“And does that come with a prize?”
“Only the best.”
His eyes never left your lips as he caressed your face gently, savoring the moment before both of your bodies gave into what they had been craving for half a decade. Eddie’s breath was hot, already staggered as he breathed in one last time before pulled your face to his and planting his lips to yours. You imagined it was what heaven had felt like if something like that existed. He tasted like beer and weed; lips a little chapped from days on the road but a pillow compared to others. He cradled your face with care—almost afraid that if he had gone in too hard the first time it would all be a dream and disappear.
When he felt your hands creep onto his forearms, he knew he wasn’t dreaming. It was real. You were here, kissing him back in a dingy dressing room at The Hideout on a Tuesday evening. The walls rattled with a metal sound.
Eddie moved his hands from your face to cradle the back of your head as he pushed himself further into you. Another hand wrapping around your waist tightly. You could feel him clutching onto the fabric of your dress, his fingers digging into the skin of your hip. With nothing to grab onto now, you enveloped his shoulders with your arms and tangled your hands into his hair.
There was nothing holding him back, nor you, in that room. His hands wandered and groped, he sounded small grunts when you rubbed up against him just right or tugged on his hair just enough. You felt him hard against you, telling you without words that what he had said was the truth.
You wanted this. You wanted it badly.
The vanity behind you was digging into your lower back, pressing, and pressing with every movement and the world came back to you with the realization someone could walk in, and you weren’t about to stop if Eddie wasn’t.
“Eddie,” you broke the kiss, murmuring his name as his lips found the sides of your mouth, your chin, following a path down your neck. “Eddie,” you said again with a pant, “someone could walk in.”
He let go with an audible 'pop' and nudged his nose to your chin before looking at you. He was so close, breathing heavily as his tongue swept over his lips.
"Yeah…" He huffed, the way his arms caged you in against the counter, "so what?"
“I’d rather not give them a show if you know what I mean?”
Eddie acknowledged that with a nod of his head, glancing in the mirror as he peeked around the room for a door that had a lock. The bathroom. The bathroom had a lock. He had found the solution, placing a delicate kiss on your lips—miles different than the one he had started with.
“Bathroom good?”
You brushed a piece of his hair back and he just about melted. “Bathroom’s perfect.”
You weren’t even sure if he had locked the door before he had his hands and lips on you again. You hit the back of the stall hard but it didn’t matter because Eddie Munson was prepared to give you the time of your life in a dirty, more than likely unsanitary, bar bathroom years in the making. He was taking no prisoners in the way he felt you up—hands acting as a way to stake his claim from everything from your breasts to ass and you swallowed what you could take. Each moan he gave, every sound that levied on a whimper from you. It felt natural having him close. Having him give himself to you in the same passion that you were to him.
When he went back to assaulting your neck—sucking at the skin to where your nails were making crescents on his shoulders through his jacket—you stuttered a breath.
“I-I met a few girls who said they met you,” you admitted as he bothered not to stop, “they claimed you’re a real… freak when it comes to this kind of thing.”
He thought you sounded adorable in the most sexy way. Nervous with a tinge of shakiness in your voice. Eddie didn’t care anymore what people thought of him. What girls said or what they tried to claim about him. All he wanted was to know what you thought, what you claimed of him. He had been waiting for that for six years.
“They said you used handcuffs,” that made him stop.
"Is there truth to it?" You couldn't take your eyes off his lips and you could sense he was jittery. Like he had 12 cups of coffee. His finger tapped against the side of the stall impatiently. “It’s a little different from the Eddie I know… one who liked D&D and honeycomb cereal.”
“I still like that cereal,” he laughed. Eddie shifted his head to the side of your face, letting his mouth kiss your ear lobe tenderly. He still loved D&D too.
"What kind of freak do you want me to be?"
You tipped your head to the side slightly, running your hands over his chest and feeling the fabric of his rough t-shirt ride upwards.
"I want," Your hands ran higher and met their position at the base of his neck. Finger nails disappearing beneath his wild hair and running along his nape, "one that will fuck me in this bathroom until I can barely walk… can you do that for me?"
Eddie was nearly speechless. Nearly.
“I could fuck you four ways funny and sweetheart,” he ran his tongue over his lips again, pulling back and looking down at yours, “you wouldn’t be walkin’ after the first one.”
He was so close, his breath hot and brushing against your face. All the water seemingly drained from him as the need for what you were offering, sweet and plump, had become the perfect meal. Eddie’s right hand slid down the stall door to where it could barely graze your dress at the hip.
You had already told him what you wanted. But he needed permission. He drew himself closer, pressing into you and you felt how hard he was in his pants.
“You gonna make me wait forever, sweetheart? You gonna tell me what to do?”
“I told you what I wanted,” your voice was breathy, deep. He could barely stand it. He could cum right there from just knowing he was finally getting the chance to fuck you.
“You told me what you wanted,” he clarified, grasping your side tightly and taking the second you gasped to stick his head between his other arm and neck. His hot, panting breath on your neck now was all you could think about.
“You didn’t say I could.”
“Fuck me, Eddie,” you tilted your head to the side, letting his lips lightly kiss the skin there. You clutched one lapel of his jacket and reached up to intertwine your fingers in his hair with the other, giving him enough order to suck as he had been doing before. “Fuck me the way you played out there tonight. Like it’s your last goddamn night on earth.”
He still had that wild hair. However, it was no longer in spite or rebellion against the system but a piece of his image. Only a man so engrossed in the sound and space of what it meant to be a metal, hard rock band could pull off the attitude and aura he exuded.
He lifted up the skirt of your dress to your waist and let his torso hold it in place as he put both hands to your hips and pulled your panties down. Your breathing was staggered, half excited and half anxious to get him inside of you. He gently tapped your knee to lift.
When he got them off he shoved them in the back pocket of his pants.
“I’m keepin’ those.”
The dress had fallen back down but as he rose to his feet, his fingers painted a path to its edge, driving it upwards and this time, there was nothing restricting his path to you.
“Baby, you been hidin’ this perfect fucking pussy all these years?”
Fuck. You felt a fire ignite within you. You knew Eddie Munson had a flare for theatrics; that he was eccentric, and maybe a little insane, but the second his hands touched your body—you felt the satanic panic infiltrate your soul.
“Eddie,” you whined as one of his hands grew closer to your center and the other kept guiding your dress up. “Stop with your goddamn teasing and fuck me.”
He would never deny a command from a lady like you.
Eddie let his fingers descend, pressing his lips to your neck then chin as your breathing hitched right at the precipice. His entire hand cupped you with pressure that made your toes curl.
“Sh-shit…” you gasped. His smile on your neck was rewarding.
“Shit is right, Y/n,” Eddie’s fingers spread a bit, two fingers threatening to enter while the others pulled apart your folds. His thumb worked to find your clit without guidance of his eyes. All he needed from you was to tell him when and it took him little time.
You jolted into him, lolling your head into his chest, and breathing deeply and his lips lost their traction on your neck. He could feel your trembling fingers holding onto him. If he had been 16, he would have came in his pants at the sheer desperation you were giving. The music of heavy metal mixing with the sounds of your pleasure were dizzying. Eddie guided two of his fingers into you.
“Jesus Christ…” you blurted out as your head pulled back from him and went back against the stall. He was watching you with such precision that you felt hot under his gaze. His fingers were moving swiftly, feeling every part of you as he watched your chest heave and face go slack.
“You’re so fucking wet, sweetheart. God damn.” He pushed his fingers further into you, curling them the best he could to get you there. He wanted to fuck you but couldn’t tear his eyes away from your wanton face. Eddie’s free hand gripped the base of your neck. His thumb running along the length and applying pressure. “So wet for me, huh?”
Your eyes were clouded with delirium. He had taken you there with a simple touch. You didn’t know how you would last if he truly took the time to worship you. Eddie could send you to an early grave and you’d say ‘thank you for a fantastic time.’
“Always for you,” you whimpered carelessly, “I’ll always be for you.”
“You really—“ he grunted when your hand tangled in his shirt and nicked the necklace he was wearing. It pulled on his neck. “You really want me to fuck you here?” He flicked your bud making you cry out. “Bend you over like the dirty fucking girl you are?”
You pulled his shirt, the necklace too, and let his body lay against yours. The only feeling of his hand continuing to pleasure you and his hard dick in his pants reminding you that you wanted something more. His forehead met yours and it was soft in the hardness of lust.
“Bend me over that sink,” you told him, no longer fuzzy with ecstasy, “I’ve thought about you on lonely nights starring at me through a mirror as you fucked me.”
He swallowed the lump in his throat that formed with your admission.
“Show me that I’m not one of those girls, Eddie.”
He didn’t need to romance you to show you that.
Eddie removed his fingers with no warning and guided you to the sink with a quickness you had only seen in movies. He was strategic and defined, letting your hands grasp the edges of the porcelain sink that stood alone in the flickering bathroom light. You watched him through the mirror concentrate on undoing his belt, zipping down his pants and pulling himself out of his black jeans. For a second, you wished you had turned around. Wanting to see him hard and leaking for you but you also knew there was no way this was a one and done deal.
Eddie would wine and dine you; he would take you to a physical bed and make love to you before he’d leave this planet.
And he still had on his leather jacket.
“You sure you’re ready for this, baby?” He asked, meeting your gaze in the mirror. “We only got so much time so I’m not going slow.”
“Yeah, I’m sure,” your fingers had gone taut against the sink; gripping tightly and trying to support yourself as your excitement made you shake. No man had ever had the same effect on you.
“You tell me to stop and I will, got it?”
And there were few men confident enough in their abilities to extend kindness in the heat of the moment.
“Yeah, I got it,” you barely got that out because he grabbed his cock with one of his hands, leaning over you to hold your hand down on the sink—his larger hand covering yours almost completely. He ran the head over your folds and you felt your legs shake.
“All right then, let me fuck you like I’ve been waiting my whole life to.”
And he was right, he didn’t stop. Eddie pounded hard and fast into you as if it was exactly that. He hit every part of you, stretching and filling you with a sweet sensation of adrenaline laced possessiveness that had grown throughout the evening. Every time he glanced at the table, the moment he saw you at the bar, the way you held onto his hand as he carried you away from the crowds just to have a second to unwind everything he had felt for you. As he gripped your hip and remained holding your hand against the sink, you could barely say a word for what he was completing in you.
It was like a puzzle piece finding its home.
“Motherfucker…” Eddie husked as he picked up the pace, watching himself disappear within your glistening cunt every time he thrusted back and forth. He wasn’t even letting you do much work at this point. He had taken every ounce of himself and poured it into what he had been waiting to do. Eddie Munson was beating to the course of his own drum, not the ones that rattled the walls and swelled through the air ducts to sound off the tile in the bathroom.
You kept your eyes on him through the mirror even if the pleasure threatened to close them. He was in a zone; concentrated and using his body the best way he knew how.
“Fuck–” He let go of your hand and slotted it in between you down your front. He brought his middle finger back down to your clit and your breath hitched, stuck inside of your throat. Your fingers were unstable. The grip on the sink wavering with every pounding step he made and the sounds of your wet slick combining with his force was an epiphany.
You looked again in the mirror. Eddie’s forehead was resting on the skin of your shoulder as he continued to thrust.
“Eddie,” you breathed out, “look at me.”
Your words were jumbled. You didn’t know if it came out that way or if you just heard the voice in your head say it correctly, but he didn’t respond.
“Eddie,” you tried again, “look at me.”
Look at you–he did. He had. For four goddamn years because that's all he could do was look. Staring like a loser school boy who was infatuated with his unattainable teacher but in reality, the two of you were neither. Just a freak and a prep. The popular girl who was loud and funny but could never spare a glance to him until you had. Until circumstances beyond his imagination had brought him a group of friends that supported him, saved him, from the secrets Hawkins hides.
His brown eyes blown wide and full, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead as your glinted on your collarbones and the part of your chest he could see.
“You’re so fucking perfect, Y/n...” He mumbled and laid a kiss on your shoulder. His eyes met yours in the mirror and he was close. The fantasy of the moment he had been waiting for beginning to catch up with him, the ideas you had planted in your mind for days reeling in reality. But you didn’t come here to get fucked and finish by looking at him in the mirror.
“Turn me over,” you panted quickly, “I’m close.”
He did as he was told. His cock slipping out for a second as he gripped both sides of your hips and turned you around. In any other situation, he may have been embarrassed about how much he was worked up, but this wasn’t a regular occurrence. This was an endgame for him. Some final quest that would lead his life beyond it with pride and a feeling of content. This was his one shot as much as it was yours. He guided himself back in, feeling you clench around him and lifted one of your legs to wrap around him. Eddie held it with his hand to help ease the strain.
“I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” you managed to get out with labored words. Your shaking hand cupping his face as he brought it close to you. Intimacy was no longer divided between a mirror. This was as close to making magic as it could get in a place like this.
“It won’t be,” he reassured you with a kiss, “I’m not letting you go again, baby.”
The goddamn pet names. You’d never tire of it.
He felt you clench around him again, your face fighting the resolution with everything you had left because you didn’t want it to end.
“Come on, baby,” he murmured against your lips, “come for me, sweetheart, come for me.”
Eddie put his hand on your neck again, relishing the way your eyes fluttered closed as his lips egged you on with kisses and his hand with a bit of pressure. He would have time to show you what else he could do; to find new things together but right then, all he wanted to see was you fall apart by his own doing.
A few more thrusts and he had sent you there.
He had sent you to euphoria–the dazzling electric dance of fire that had been sitting, waiting to be awakened. Your eyes were shut tightly, hands gripping his jacket, and your mouth was agape, a strangled sound of pleasure finding its way out as he followed through with his actions as your orgasm had reached its top. Eddie wished he had a camera because there was no one else who could beat the way your orgasm made him feel.
He was so lost in the moment staring at you that he had reached his own in a subsequent fashion. You heard him moan, something so many men had been conscious not to do because it was vulnerable, but you grasped him harder as he stilled. You were both breathing so heavily that you couldn’t hear anything else.
All either of you did was stare at each other––knowing that what had occurred changed the course of not only the evening, but your lives as they were.
“Holy shit,” Eddie whispered, feeling himself soften inside of you as your fingertips lightly ran through his hair.
The music from his band was still thundering.
“Yeah...” you repeated, “holy shit.”
And he smiled, so you did too.
“They’ll come looking for me any second,” he said knowingly. Jeff and Gareth let him have his time, but he still needed to play. He didn’t want to leave.
You brushed his bangs away from his face gently. “Well, a band always needs their star...”
You thought he was a star. A star.
“Well, a man needs his muse too.”
“His muse will be out there... cheering him on from a booth with both of their friends.”
Eddie bit his lip, not wanting to go but knowing that he had to. He nodded, almost warning you that he was going to pull out and it still hadn’t hit either of you that a condom had gone forgotten. He tried to ignore the small wince you let out when he eventually did, stuffing himself back into his pants as you pulled your dress down and turned to face the mirror again.
“Sorry,” he said both in response to the soreness he’s sure you felt, but also for the marks he had left on the skin exposed due to the design of your dress. You examined them in the mirror.
“Here,” Eddie pulled off his jacket and was thankful he did so because he was sweltering in it, “take it and when the shows over, you come back, and I’ll take you for a drink.”
A date of sorts.
“You sure?” You caught his eyes in the mirror as he opened the jacket, placing it on your shoulders and holding his hands there.
“There’s no one else I’d rather see wearing it out there.”
“I don’t know if I could pull it off as well as you,” you laughed, your head shaking at the idea of you–someone who had never worn a leather jacket–wearing his. “I don’t know if I’m the type.”
“Of course, you are,” Eddie moved to the side of the sink, letting your hands turn on the faucet and let the water run, “you’re a rock star’s girl so I need you to show it off. Besides...” he trailed off, hearing the door to the dressing room open beyond the bathrooms, “you could wear nothing and be the best dressed person in there.”
A knock sounded at the door, followed by a wiggle of the handle but thankfully, Eddie did lock the door.
“Eddie?” it was Jeff, “Time’s up, man. I know you wanna, well, you know...” he sounded embarrassed, “but they know you’re missing.”
“Be out in a second!” Eddie shouted through the door and the handle went still again.
“You should go,” you pumped soap into your hand once the water was warm, “you have fans waiting.”
“Promise me you’ll wear it?” His eyes were hopeful. He had finally snagged the girl of his dreams. He didn’t need to define it to know you were committed too. “Please?”
“I’m wearing it already, aren’t I?” You smiled at him, nodding your head to the door. “Go.”
He started off toward the door and just when he was about to unlock it, he turned around, meeting your eyes in the mirror and coming straight back to you. His hands grabbed your face and pulled you to him, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. It had been the lingering feelings of love unspoken that had told him to do it. He pulled away first.
“I’ll be looking for you out there.”
“I’ll be watching.”
The bar was as you had left it.
Eddie made it to the stage by the time you had cleaned yourself up and became satisfied that your look was a bit different to the one you had begun the night with. The music was still loud, the people were still excited, and the two booths remained filled with your friends. You stopped at the bar on your way back for a glass of water and the same woman as before served you.
There were still a hundred bodies lingering around the space, but a single open gap led you to her. She smiled at you.
“You left your beer on the bar,” she said as her eyes narrowed, looking at the jacket you wore. You played with the cuffs as the people around you listened to the music. “Want another?”
“No,” you shook your head, “just water please.”
She nodded her head and grabbed a glass before filling it with ice.
“Just friends, huh?”
You shrugged, a small smile playing on your face.
“Maybe a bit more than that.”
The bartender gave you a wink as you left the bar to make your way through the maze of guests. You didn’t mind the water falling onto your hand as the people danced and forced your cup to move, thoughts filled with Eddie and the future of the evening ahead.
“Hey!” You barely heard their calls, “Y/N! Over here!”
Dustin’s screeching was the loudest, but you saw Robin standing with Nancy on the booth and their grins were huge. You reached your table and sat beside Steve. Robin and Nancy sat back down but no one said anything. You wouldn’t meet their eyes as you sipped your water. Steve nudged your shoulder twice before you mustered the strength to look at each one of them.
“That jacket’s new,” Steve commented, and Robin could barely contain her excitement. She hid her mouth behind her hands.
“It is,” you replied with a curt nod.
“So are those hickeys,” Jonathan stated, looking around the venue after he said it and his cheeks went red. Nancy slapped his arm.
“Got anything to say?” Steve inquired.
“Nope,” you popped the ‘p’ dramatically, “not really.”
Steve hummed, grinning like the rest of the fools at the table. You looked over at the stage and saw Eddie playing once more, catching him once looking over at the table and he beamed.
“You know, Steve,” you called out to him but didn’t look at him, “the thing you said in the car, about the bathrooms... you were right.”
The table erupted in delighted cheers. Steve patted your knee proudly.
Six years felt like forever, but you knew, looking onto that stage at The Hideout as the man you had been pining over played his heart out, that it was nothing compared to the potential of the future. The clock reset. You were only counting the time starting now... well, the time that started 30 odd minutes ago.
#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things 4#stranger things netflix#x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#x female reader#joseph quinn#lets all recover from that season#this wasn't supposed to be 13 thousand words#eddie munson stranger things#stranger things season 4
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