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#vince bit his lip
kiyutuii · 13 days
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I FEKFNDJV FORGOT TO POST THIS
anyways I love unhinged rody just as I love normal wet dog rody 💖
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milkiane · 2 years
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I WAS MADE FOR LOVIN' YOU. eddie munson.
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summary: the four times eddie knew he was a goner and the one time he told you.
warnings: no spoilers! don’t worry, you’re safe here. profanities. gif credits to @his-name-is-ed <3
word count: 5.1k
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i. the first time eddie knew he was a goner was when… he found out that you love mötley crüe. 
eddie knows his presence is hard to miss. aside from his wild hair and clothing choices, which apparently do not fit the social standards, he makes it exceptionally difficult for people to ignore him. 
and yet, on a particular, normal, chilly friday in the school field, you effortlessly grab his attention. you didn’t need crazy hair or seeking clothes or loud eccentric speeches on top of a cafeteria table. you’re just… sitting there with a frown on your face and eddie thinks…
eddie can’t think. his mind draws blank as he continues to stare at you.
so like dominoes, his abrupt stop results in the rest of the hellfire club bumping into him, which causes a streak of groans and complaints, but eddie pays them no mind because as if his legs have a mind of their own, they bring him right to you. “carry on without me, my little sheep, destiny awaits!”
you groan in annoyance, slamming your hand onto your malfunctioning walkman. “stupid, stupid, little shi-”
“y’know, i don’t think mauling the poor thing will make it work.” 
you look up at the voice with a glare, your face softens just a bit after seeing it was eddie, but the glare prevails nevertheless, still frustrated with your walkman.
“i mean, sure, i guess that could make it work, too,” eddie shrugs, hopping on top of the picnic table instead of sitting on the benches like a normal person.
“it will work,” you grit your teeth, hitting the side of the device as it did nothing to fix the distorted voice of vince neil. “it just needs a bit of tough love.”
after watching you for a few more minutes with an amused smile, eddie snatches it out of your hands, convinced that you would break it if it doesn’t revive the next second. he ignores your objections as he opens his black metal lunchbox.
“it’s not a lunchbox,” he absentmindedly retorts to your murmur as he goes through his things, silently muttering a quiet no, not this, nope, what the hell is this? and finally, aha!
he raises a mini screwdriver before you as if it will magically take your problems away. “this, my lady, will magically take your problems away.”
huh. 
you hesitantly watch as eddie pops open your walkman, taking out the mixtape to find the tape itself burst out of its case. he tinkers and meddles with it carefully, doing wonders as he manually rewinds it. 
you use his current distraction to take a good look at him. you’ve seen him around the school; in class, in the hallways, at the cafeteria, but you’ve never crossed the borders of his personal bubble or actually spoken to him until now.
he isn’t a bad sight to see. 
his hair, although gone rogue, looks so soft that you physically have to restrain yourself from touching it. he has tattoos inked on his skin, slightly covered by his hellfire shirt as if teasing you and leaving you wanting to see more. beautiful silver rings graced his fingers making you want to study each intricate detail that embellished the jewelry.
his tongue is poking out of his lips, brows furrowed in concentration. his nose is slightly crooked as if it’s been broken before. he has dimples piercing his cheeks and the lightest of freckles sprinkled over his face, only noticeable if kissed under the sun.
all things considered, eddie munson is a sight for sore eyes.
“are you done staring, sweetheart?” eddie teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “if you’d like, i can pose for you on this table.”
you were too deep in your reveries that you didn’t notice he was done. you blink up at him and scoff. “shut up, i wasn’t staring.”
“it’s fine, y’know, it’s normal to stare at pretty things.” he encourages you, satirically playing with his hair. “especially if you’re one of those connoisseurs of art.”
“wow, someone learned a new word today.” you praise him sarcastically.
“now, now, y/n, is that a way to treat someone who just fixed your lil walkman?” eddie chastises, grabbing your headphones from your neck and putting it on his ears. “what were you listening to anyway?”
he gives it a few seconds before the familiar music comes in. he whips his head towards you with a slack jaw. he winces, his hand coming in contact with his neck, massaging the pain from snapping his head towards you too fast.
… i've been a poet always tongue in cheek,
i've seen some scenes man you'd never believe,
and like a supercharged rocket ride,
you know they'd have gasoline if they had the time.
“you- you listen to mötley crüe!” eddie blurts out, standing on the picnic table and pointing an accusatory finger at you. “you’re one of us!”
“shut up!” you pull him back down with a yank. you can still hear angela blasting through your headphones. you look at him with a sigh before muttering. “i love mötley crüe.”
eddie lets out a choked laugh, jumping off the table and squishing your cheeks with his hands. “you’re a cute little metal freak!”
“shut up, munson! you better get your hands off my face or so help me god.”
it came out as gibberish but the point came across. 
“you say ‘shut up’ too much, is that your favorite word?” eddie calls into question, leaning closer to you with a roguish grin. his gaze flickers down to your pouting lips before staring straight into your eyes. “i can teach you more ways to shut me up, y’know?”
“scout’s honor that it’s even more efficacious than the words itself.” he winks at you before grabbing his lunchbox, leaving you bewildered and baffled beyond belief. mötley crüe did not do anything to blur the forming thoughts in your head.
that was strike one for eddie munson.
ii. the second time eddie knew he was a goner was when… you knocked someone out cold with a box of frozen waffles.
you shouldn’t have been out at an ungodly hour, quite frankly, but you really, really, wanted some eggos. so clad in sweats and an oversized shirt, you walk out of bradley’s big buy with three boxes of mini waffles in hand.
and as if the universe wasn’t satisfied with only one interaction, you hear eddie munson’s voice. “hey, come on, man. you’ve been my client for over a year now and you’re only doubting me now?”
“we talked about fifteen grams, munson, so i’m expecting fifteen grams.” 
eddie sighs, rubbing his tired face with his hand. they’ve been going back and forth and he was starting to get annoyed. he wasn’t even supposed to be dealing right now, but when money calls, you answer it. 
“look, man. it’s fifteen. if you don’t believe me, give me the money, go find a weighing scale, and weigh your shit. it’s fifteen grams.” he says, grabbing his lunchbox, but just as he wrapped his fingers on the handle, he gets shoved to the ground, his things crashing with him, skin scratched from catching himself on the rough pavement.
motherfucker.
“hey!” you didn’t want to. you really didn’t want to, but before you can think twice, you get in between eddie and the ridiculously tall buff guy.
you should really start thinking twice.
said guy, although high as a kite, looks at the box of eggos on the floor and back at you. you had thrown a box of waffles at his head.
“take your fifteen grams and leave,” you order calmly, ignoring the whispers of objections of eddie, who immediately stands up at lightspeed, startled by your sudden presence.
“i don’t know who the fuck you think you are, but this is between me and your little druggy friend, a’ight?” he sneers, pushing you aside to grab eddie by his shirt. “besides, the fuck do you know about packing shit right?”
“i know how to pack a punch, for starters.”
you didn’t give him or eddie to process your words before, CRACK! your fist comes in contact with his nose — a sickening crunch and a cry had them both freezing, well, except for the junkie clutching his nose.
“you bitch!” 
with the throbbing pain of your knuckles, you could only whack him across his face with the box of waffles in your hand as he leaped to get you. 
eddie, still frozen in his spot, can only watch in both horror and amazement as the guy gets knocked out cold, face kissing the sidewalk. 
“holy shit…”
“how much did he owe you?” you huff, clutching your victimized hand as you stand over the guy. 
“twenty.” he blinks.
you shrug, digging a hand in the jean pocket of the junkie and placing the crumpled bills in eddie’s hand. “twenty-five for being a shithead.”
eddie took you out for some ice cream treat after that.
“remind me to never get on your nerves, you scare me,” he said, but there was no real fear behind his words, just a twinge of wonder in his voice and a sparkle in his eyes.
you didn’t say anything. you didn’t need to, so you just grinned at him before taking a scoop out of his ice cream.
and at that moment, under the moonlight with frozen waffles aiding your knuckles and discarded ice cream cups on top of his van, eddie just knew that you would stick around. 
and the rest was history.
that was strike two for eddie munson.
iii. the third time eddie knew he was a goner was when… traces of you were slowly starting to bleed into his life, and he didn’t mind.
“is this… MADONNA?”
eddie snaps his head towards the curly-headed boy in his passenger seat, eyes widening at the sight of the manifold of mixtapes that sits on dustin’s lap.
he splutters incoherent excuses as he chucks them back into his glovebox, a hand still on the wheel as he tries to keep the van steady. 
dustin watches in amusement as eddie fumbles with the mixtape that fell from his grasp. he snatches it out of his mentor’s hand and snickers, “wow, abba, too? didn’t know you were such a pioneer of music, eddie.”
eddie thwacks him with the d&d gazette before turning his eyes back on the road. “those aren’t mine.”
it was his. you left it for him.
dustin squints his eyes at his friend as if staring at him like that will force him to tell the truth, and it almost did, but thankfully, he chooses to go through the mixtape-filled glovebox again instead.
you brought half of your mixtapes with you when eddie had asked you to accompany him on a spontaneous road trip out of town one day. he always looks back to that moment.
you were passionately talking about the songs that graced your diverse music taste, hands animatedly moving around as words spew out of your mouth every millisecond. he understood every single thing you said, though.
just because you love mötley crüe doesn’t mean you don’t love starship. you love kiss but you also love the beatles. you love metallica but you also love bee gees, and maybe he was starting to like it, too. 
if you ask eddie, he’ll choose cyndi lauper’s time after time as his slow dance song. absolutely irrelevant yet very relevant.
“why the hell are you smiling like a crazy man?” dustin pokes his cheeks, effectively snapping him out of his daydream.
eddie slaps his hands away from his face.
aside from mixtapes in his glovebox, eddie also has a special drawer with the clothes you often leave at his house, and with the best detergent he has – a discounted brand from a dollar store – he voluntarily washes it for you to wear next time.
 “did… did you wash my clothes?” he remembers you asking the first time.
he turns away from his notebook to look at you. “uh, yeah. you left some of your stuff here and i decided to include it with mine last wash day.”
“oh,” you beam, pulling the material to your nose and breathing it in. “thanks, babe.”
eddie ignores the warmth of his cheeks and goes back to doodling in his notebook. “‘course, would you like me to wear a maid outfit while i’m at it next time?”
you laugh. “i’d like that very much.”
you bring the soft fabric back to your nose, it smells just like him.
you start leaving more clothes in his room after that.
that was strike three for eddie munson.
iv. the fourth time eddie knew he was a goner was when… he wanted to be the best version of himself whenever you’re around.
“okay, so i have a bag of those honeycomb cereal you like, some pringles, juice boxes, pints of ice cream…”
as you continue to list off the snacks you brought for the d&d campaign with the boys, eddie leans forward to buckle your seatbelt, letting you catch a whiff of his cologne. he tugs it twice to make sure it’s fastened properly. “safety first.”
you pause. “you literally never wear your seatbelt.”
“that’s because i sold my soul to the devil for immortality,” eddie pats your thigh before backing out of your driveway. “and because it will cause a decline in my precious reputation!”
“what, common road safety?” you snort. “do tell, kind sir, what would the great eddie munson be known for?”
“you don’t know?” he scoffs in mock disbelief. “i’m an evil self-proclaimed attention whore – i’m known for a lot of things, sweetheart.”
“speaking of being an attention whore,” you gravitate towards him to sniff him again. “are you wearing a new perfume, munson?”
“sit back down, dumbass! and it’s cologne, not perfume.”
“same shit. are you trying to impress someone?” you tease, settling down back in your seat before letting out an overdramatic gasp. “is it dustin? is it because he’s been hanging out with steve the past week?”
“what? no!” he wavers for a moment before sniffing himself. “why? does it smell bad?”
you laugh. “no, no. i actually like it better than your old one.”
“good, i bought it especially for you.” he winks, turning the volume of the music up before you can even reply.
“i can’t believe erica rolled a d20!” eddie exclaims, packing up the boards.
“and twice,” you agree. 
as usual, you and eddie stayed back after the campaign, ushering the kids — and gareth and the group — out of the room as soon as you heard the distant rumble of the sky. you knew they’d be biking home, so you asked them to leave early, much to your best friend’s displeasure.
you pick up the empty chip bags and discarded juice boxes, prolonging the chat you’re having with eddie.
mid-conversation, you lean against his throne, garbage bag in your hands. he was talking animatedly and you’re not quite sure what he’s even talking about anymore.
the lights of the room give him a glow that makes your heart beam. the perfect combination of green, orange, and blue; it makes him look like a fallen angel. a devil in disguise. the right fusion of both.
his eyes are soft, it’s kind. his smile is, too. everything about him is. he doesn’t show anyone, but you always get the opportunity to see a part of him that makes you fall in love with him even more.
“…and then just as i was about to dream of rubbing their loss in their puny little faces — she slaps me with a crit hit! that’s twice!”
“yeah,” you whisper, a gentle smile on your lips. you push yourself off the chair and start helping him around the room. “maybe it’s a sign that you’re getting a bit rusty, buzz.”
“drop it with the nickname! it’s been years and i was only forced to have it shaved after stupid anthony chopped my hair nasty in history.”
you double down in laughter. “and wayne has been so gracious enough to show me the pictures.”
eddie glares at you before running towards you. you only advance two steps away from him before he catches you from behind and pulls you against him.
“salvage yourself, you insolent little minx.”
“no! i shan’t yield!”
giggles escape both of your lips, sounds slowly getting muffled by the drops of rain starting to patter one by one, making you and eddie stop in your tracks.
you exchange wide-eyed glances before hurrying with the packing.
you run out of the building, shoes splashing over the formed puddles, you didn’t even notice eddie shrug his jacket off to shield both of you from the rain. 
a few meters from his van, you pull away from him and let the water hit you, dampening your clothes all within a second. 
“what the hell are you doing?” eddie shouts over the loud pour.
“come on!” you pull him towards you, cold hands grasping his warm ones, you dance in the rain.
eddie watches you in disbelief, though there’s a smile on his face. “fuck it,” he mutters. “wait here.”
he runs to his van, almost slipping on the wet ground. “i’m okay!”
“idiot.” you snort.
eddie opens the door to the passenger seat and opens the glovebox. he grabs a random mixtape and fumbles to put it in the player, only then realizing that he didn’t even start the van. 
a minute or two later of waiting, you hear a bees gees song blast from eddie’s van. 
“come on, baby,” he whoops, grabbing your hands as he starts shimmying. “let’s dance!”
you let out a blissful laugh as he twirls you around. you jump around in the puddles, soaked clothes slightly weighing you down from being drenched. you attempt to twirl eddie around, too, which was a struggle due to his height.
he sings along to the song and you gasp in surprise. “you know this song?”
“do i- do i know this song?” he repeats in incredulity. “of course, i do! i’m in-”
adrenaline getting to his head, eddie realizes what he was about to say so he rectifies it. “you only sing it every second of the day. that damn song is engraved in my head!”
he pulls you back against him with a grin, a hand intertwined with yours and another supporting your back. he dips you, and you yelp in surprise.
the both of you are panting from all the dancing, but the smiles never left your face. you stare at his face, he stares at yours. you tuck a wet strand of his hair behind his ear, letting your hand rest on his jaw. he has a light stubble.
his eyes flicker to your lips, you do the same.
should i kiss him? should i not kiss him?
the loud boom of the thunder makes the decision for the two of you. the sound startles both of you, resulting in jumping away from each other faster than the next flash of lightning.
“we should head home if we still want to have this movie marathon,”
“yeah.”
eddie goes over his thoughts for a moment as you adjust the heater of the van. he recollects the resolution he made earlier, pondering over the idea of being the best version of himself though he already feels like he became it the first time he met you. how can one become the best-est best version of themselves?
that was strike four for eddie munson. 
but for you… you lost count of how many it’s been because every day with eddie adds a tally to your strikes.
v. the time eddie tells you how he’s a goner for you.
“harrington? fucking harrington?”
“it’s a friendly date, buzz,” you point out, hand steady as you do your eyeliner in his bedroom mirror.
“with harrington?” he stresses, his own hands tugging at his brown locks.
“yes, eddie.” you sigh, it’s been a repetitive back and forth. “it’s not a date date. it’s friendly, as i said. robin will be there.”
he sits up against the wall, lips moving before his brain can process his words. “well, if buckley’s gonna be there then what else does he want with you?”
you pause, dropping your hand to look at him. “okay, ouch.”
“no, i-” he groans dramatically into his hands. “i didn’t mean it like that. i just- i don’t understand why you have to spend a perfectly great night with harrington-”
“and robin.”
“-and robin, when you can just spend it with me.” eddie pouts. he sounds pathetic, he knows, but he’s jealous. what if you decide to leave him for steve? – and although he understands; it’s steve harrington, for god’s sake. he would, too, if he can – life would have no other purpose for him if you do.
“aww,” you mimic his pout, walking over to him to pat his cheeks. “don’t worry, hotshot, you’re still my favorite boy.”
“whatever,” he swats your hands away, though the grin tugging at the corner of his lips persists. he takes his time admiring you properly. you looked gorgeous, as always.
“c’mon, you big baby,” you protested. “robin will be there! plus, you can always come wi-”
“well, why didn’t you say so?” he exclaims, leaping towards the door clad in his hellfire shirt and boxers. “let’s go! we better get goi-”
you throw his jeans at him. “for your modesty.”
eddie was glad he came along. he looks at you with clear fondness, watching as your eyes light up like a child on christmas day. you jump in excitement, dragging him into the fair. 
“hey, you made it!” steve jogs towards you, but then his eyes flicker to your company. “…and munson.”
“harrington,” eddie grins, a hint of mischief in the glint of his smile as he bows to him.
you roll your eyes at them. “where’s robin?”
“right here, lovebug,” she smiles, offering you a pink cotton candy as she takes a bite off the blue one. steve’s mouth slowly falls slack in bewilderment.
“aww, my favorite,” you pout your lips as you clink your sweets like glasses of wine. 
“that’s mine!”
“buy your own cotton candy, dingus,”
“you paid for those with my money.”
eddie pays them no mind as they continue to bicker. he snatches a piece of cotton candy as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. “i see a kissing booth we can go to… the marriage booth, too, maybe?”
“stop,” you smack his arm. “let’s start with the basketball — eddie, they’ve got those big teddy bears!”
“well, the night is young, sweetheart,”
the night is young, indeed. you go around the fair with the group, steve has the giant teddy bear propped on his shoulders as if it was his child — “he is!” he argued. “his name is harry harrington.”
“harry harrington?” you had asked in incredulity. “that’s a shit name, steve!”
he gasped in mock offense, bringing the bear down to cover its ears. “don’t listen to her, harry, she’s just jealous you aren’t hers.”
eddie’s jealous he isn’t yours, too, but he wasn’t going to say that. 
you felt as if you’ve managed to go through every single booth but according to the map robin had somehow snatched, there were more than half of it you have yet to explore.
“c’mon, there’s a ball toss over there,” eddie says, grabbing your arm to drag you away from steve. “gonna win you that giant fucking elephant.”
although as soon as you stop by before it, eddie does a double-take. “six dollars?”
“six dollars.” the merchant confirms.
he looks at you and whispers in disbelief. “six dollars?”
you shrug at him, letting out a chuckle at his expression. “capitalism, baby,”
eddie sighs. he’s glad he brought his wallet with him. he’s willing to spend all of his income if it meant getting you that elephant — and he will.
“we don’t have to, you know,” you reassure him, eyeing him as he reaches out for the dollars. “there’s still a lot of booths we can go to.”
“nah, i’m getting you that elephant.” he slams the money on the counter. the merchant smirks. three balls.
eddie grabs one and exhales. “wish me luck.”
he throws the ball, and again, and then again. and then he slams more money onto the counter, and then again, and again. 
his aim’s good, but not enough to knock all the cans down. steve and robin managed to do a round before returning to the both of you with corndogs in hand.
with his promise of a last round, he sighs at the sight of what’s left of the standing cans. he gives you the last ball.
“are you sure?” you hesitate.
“do the honors, my lady,” eddie smiles, eyes so soft that subtle crinkles show at the corners. 
and with a swift throw, you somehow manage to knock down all of the cans. you and eddie whoop in excitement, jumping up and down as the merchant sighs exasperatedly, grabbing your oversized prize.
“oh my god,” you whisper, hugging the elephant to your chest. “it’s so fluffy!”
eddie looks at you with a dopey lovesick smile. maybe it was the sparkling fairy lights overhead, or the distant music playing, or maybe it was because you’re practically bouncing off the balls of your feet, a giddy smile adorning your lips… or maybe it was because eddie cannot take it any longer so he says, “i’m in love with you.”
you falter for a bit, uncertain if you heard him correctly. “what?”
and steve, who had initially asked you on a date — although as friendly as he claims — leans against the wooden pillar, face contorting in realization, lips forming into an unmistakable o as he grasps what is happening.
robin grins, a quiet finally! unleashing from her lips. to give you two some privacy, well, as private as a conversation in a public place can be, she drags steve to a very friendly competition of high strikers. steve lets her, sending eddie an encouraging thumbs up. 
“i-i’m in love with you,” eddie repeats, voice wavering at your blank expression. he couldn’t read you and it’s making him anxious. “i’m so terribly and undeniably in love with you – i knew i did the moment you said you love mötley crüe.”
you let yourself feel all the emotions bursting in all at once. he likes you. eddie munson likes you, so you ask stupidly, “are you sure?”
eddie scoffs a laugh. “am i- am i sure? are you asking me if i’m sure about my own feelings?”
you shrug.
he looks at you before breaking into a run without another word.
“eddie, where are you going?” you call out frantically. 
eddie eyes the haystacks in the center of the park and clumsily mounts on them and nearly falls. he catches himself before he can tumble down. his eyes flicker to yours as he cups his hands over his mouth. “fair people of hawkins, i have an announcement to make!”
“what is he doing?” steve asks as he and robin appear from beside you. 
“i have no idea.”
some people stop by to watch, some go on with whatever it is they were doing, and you just stand where you’re planted, unsure of what he’s about to do and what you’re supposed to do.
“i, eddie munson, a self-proclaimed attention whore, have something very important to say.” he starts – “well, get on with it now!” a guy exclaims. eddie ignores him – “i am in love with y/n l/n. i’ve been in love with her since i found out she loves metal, i’ve fallen for her since she knocked a guy out cold with frozen waffles–”
“frozen waffles?” robin questions.
“– i fell for her even harder when she introduced me to madonna –  that’s right, i love madonna! but most importantly, i knew i was a goner when i wanted to become the best version of myself for her. i wanted to become the person she deserves because i am in love with you, y/n, always have.”
you soften and the world disappears around you; it was just you and him. there is an ache in your chest, but not because of heartbreak, it’s because it feels as if it will burst out of your chest out of love. 
“we can’t help who we fall for,” eddie breathes out, walking down the stack. “but honestly, i’m glad it’s you because there’s no one else in this world whom i would love to love if it’s not you.”
you shove the elephant in steve’s hold and walk straight to eddie. 
he sends you a small smile, arms extended. when you’re a step closer, he whispers. “i’m sorry, i just had to-”
“shut up,” you command, pulling him in for a heated kiss, fingers getting lost and tangled in his hair, his arms snake around your waist to pull you impossibly closer, no gap left unfilled.
your lips dance a fast-paced song, it’s all but intense and passionate – a hint of eagerness and the satisfaction of longing. you forget that it wasn’t just the two of you, that there was a crowd watching you both kiss. you can hear the faint coos of the moms by the corner.
“get a room!” a guy barks out. simultaneously, you and eddie flipped him off but the kiss decelerates into soft and sensual, a contrast to the shared feverish one, now easing up to the feeling of content and delicate love.
you pull away a second later, forehead touching his as you don’t dare to open your eyes yet. “i’m in love with you, too, if it’s not obvious yet.”
“well, i should hope so,” eddie laughs. he gives you a quick peck on the lips before fixing you with a teasing grin. “how about that marriage booth now, sweetheart?”
“take me out on a date first, loverboy.” you interlace your hand with his as you walk away from the spotlight.
“how about a kiss on top of the ferris wheel?” he proposes instead.
“sap,” you scrunch your nose up with a smile. “but i’m not opposed to the idea.”
that was strike ??? for you and eddie.
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“just to let you all know, i am not going to sit next to steve on the ferris wheel.”
“what do you mean? i’m an amazing ferris wheel companion.”
“would you like to get shoved off the seat once we’re on top?”
“... how about the bumper cars?”
“deal.”
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© milkiane 2022. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO MODIFY OR REPOST MY WORKS ON ANY OTHER PLATFORMS.
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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 4 months
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Like no one is watching
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summary: a little stream rekindles feelings that had been lurking somewhere in between the lines. Or have they?
a/n *hits chest* guilty, guilty, guilty... yet I had to write this because I was about to go insane. Don't come for my head. Had never written for this man before. Enjoy. 🤍🫧
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It was supposed to be a chill night. Nothing big. Nothing special. All Vince wanted was to hang out with a couple of his old friends and mess around for a bit on stream. He needed to get his mind off the last couple of games that weren't his best. And it was just that—a good evening filled with goofy jokes—until Brian went quiet for a minute before saying, "Uuu, Y/N is coming over," and Vince's body nearly had an out-of-body experience. One that makes you fella as if, suddenly, you are standing a foot away from your body, and it almost feels like tunnel vision, but then it all snaps back into place. Yet Vince pulled the most neutral facial expression he could master before saying, "The one from the game?" making Brian simply hum in confirmation as he typed out a message to you.
The thing was, that it was stupid to even pretend that Vince didn't know you. Or that he only had seen you in one of his games as Brian's plus one. Well, besides being one of the NHL investor's daughter—a tag you shook off with a frown every time. You had made quite a name for yourself on your own. You had graduated from medical school with honors. And had opened a boutique in downtown Chicago... Not that Vince was keeping tabs or anything.
The truth was that he had never paid much attention to you at sports events or gatherings. Not that you were there often. But something about you standing there in the stands during his last game had messed with Vince's brain chemistry, and Vince just hadn't been the same ever since. He had, of course, asked Brian about your friendship and felt even more whiplashed when his friend casually shrugged while saying that you two had known each other for years. A friend of a friend. And since the energy was comparable, you had stayed in touch.
"Vince, keep the chat entertained while I let her in," Brian got up quickly, but not before stopping to address chat too, "Guys, your favorite person is here." Vince was once again left wondering how many times you two streamed together. And kicking himself for never really finding the time to watch his friends' lives. Laughter echoed from the hallway, and Vince had to mentally tell himself not to look back so he wouldn't come off too desperate. Paying extra attention to the sea of messages about how everyone was so excited to see you.
"Make some noise, make some noise," Brian shouted as he sprinted back, clapping his hands. He pulled the mic to his lips, "The one and only, Y/n Y/L/N." Your laughter filled the room, quickly followed by the clicking of your heels. "You are insane," you muttered, stepping through the door. A slight surprise washed over your face when your eyes fell on Vince, sitting in one of the chairs, but it was quickly masked by a warm smile. "Oh, hey, Vince," you muttered before leaning forward slightly to wave at the camera.
"Hey guys, long time no see. Please tell me that you've been making fun of Brian for me", you smirked, sticking your tongue out at him. "Changed my mind; I don't want you here," he huffed, playfully pulling at your hand. Vince blinked a couple of times. Finally realized that he had been staring at you the whole time, but then who could blame him? You had caught his eye back then with a messy bun, baggy jeans, and his team's jersey on. Now, with a black dress, heels, and full of glam. Lord was on his side, and he was sure glad that he had been sitting.
"Do I know Vince?" you read, your eyes darting to the awfully quiet hockey player to your right. "Yeah, we met. Was at his game, actually", you nodded slowly. "I should know all the rules by now, but..." Pulling a face, you shook your head. You avoided the games like a plague. Daddy's girl in the stadium. Those words alone made you want to run. You would rather fall face-first into dog shit. "We'll get you to more games, and you'll get it in no time," Vince's voice made your head snap back to him. The fucker dared to smirk too. Oh, but you knew his type. Heard all about it, and two could play this game. "Is that an offer?", you asked innocently. Vince only shrugged as he leaned back in his chair, "A fact." Your eyes stayed glued to each other. You hated how you could never get a read on him. How could a guy look both like the biggest mistake and like a gift from the Lord himself?
"They want to see your fit, Y/n," Brian's voice made you blink. Turning your attention back to the camera, you muttered, "Oh, wait," you backed up slightly. Trying to fit at least most of your body in a frame. "Do a twirl," Brian clapped his hands like a kid, making you shake your head. "Of fuck you, that's stupid," you muttered. "No cap, do a twirl," he motioned with his finger for you to do as he said. You rolled your eyes, but then you did feel cute today, so a little hype has never hurt anybody. "It's nothing," you said as you twirled a couple of times, "a black dress and these awful heels." You lifted one of your feet slightly, showing the sparkly, black heel.
"My turn!" Brian shouted, stepping up front as he went on a rant about what he was wearing. You stepped aside with a giggle. He was way too excited to do this, so alcohol had to be involved in this steam in some way. "Sponsorship event?", Vince said under his breath, clearly only trying to catch your attention. "You know it...", breathing out, you let out a sigh. People might call you ungrateful for this, but you hated attending anything that involved your father and his money. You were like a shiny toy for him. "Do you hate them?", he asked, catching a slight frown on your face. "Tell me about it," you said, laughing under your breath. "I ain't a fan as well," he added with a nod. "Oh, I know", you muttered, stepping aside from his chair.
"I will go for now; I need to get out of these before I start bleeding all over the floor," you chuckled, pointing to your feet once you found a minute of silence. You didn't want to just get up and walk out, so one way or another, you would have to find a little excuse to slip away. "Just get them off here," Brian muttered, not seeming to care as he scrolled through his playlist, looking for a new song to sing along to. "And flash the chat while doing so?", you rolled your eyes, "You wish for free content like that." You were about to wave your last goodbye when Vince cut in, "I'll get them." For a split second, you had hoped that you had misunderstood his intentions. So you just shook your head with a polite, "It's okay," but Vince scooted his chair closer. "No, no, I got it," he muttered, bending over.
A breath hitched in your throat as you felt his hands on your skin. "No, Vince," you muttered. But he just continued pulling at the strap; his warm fingers touching your cold ankle, sending shivers down your whole body. He fidgeted with it for a moment, but with an awkward angle, it sure wasn't an easy task. You were hoping that he was just going to give up, but his palm grasped your leg just slightly above your knee as he nudged it to a more comfortable angle for him. You nearly let out a shriek, but it turned into you biting your lip. Your hands pressed against his shoulder as you steadied yourself.
But God the feeling of relief once he finally pulled the scrappy shoes off. Near heavenly. Making your head fall back as you hummed in delight, "Remind me to boycott high heels from today," you muttered. Not to mention that you didn't miss the way Vince's hands lingered on your skin before he pulled back away from you. His gaze moves upwards to catch your eyes. And the urge to just take his face between your fingers and... Pull yourself together, Yn. You turned away quickly. Hoping to hide the slight blush on your cheeks. "It was nice seeing you guys", you waved your hand to the camera before quickly picking up your heels and padding out of the room.
Vince's heart was beating so hard against his chest. He was toying with a dangerous line. Girls like you were off-limits for a reason. The rules were pretty clear, too. It was bad enough that this was on the internet. One stupid move and his head would be drilled raw with people screaming at him. Nor did it help that your daddy dearest had spent some pretty coin on his team this year. Yet Vince was itching to get up and follow you. Little could be done with the cameras on, but outside this room, where no one could see you...
"Do you want another drink?" Vince said, causing Brian to shake his can, which, to Vince's luck, was indeed empty. "I'll get..." Brian had started, but Vince was already up and out of his chair. "I've got you, man," he said, tapping his friend's shoulder. He only had one shot at this. You can only get lucky so many times. But he didn't even need to go looking for you because the moment Vince rounded the corner to the kitchen, you were there. Leaning against the counter with your hands crossed over your chest.
"You're following me or something?", you muttered, tilting your head to the side. Vince tossed the empty cans out. "Or something," he muttered back. "Now you think you're funny?", you raised an eyebrow at him, pushing back from the corner to step closer to him. "What do you want, Dunn?", you asked, narrowing your eyes at him. A smirk tugged on his lips. That devilish one. One that turned him from an angel to a man of sins in seconds. "Back to the last name once again; you know I like it." His words were breathy and low as he reached up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, causing you to pull back.
"You look really good," Vince muttered, letting his eye fall down your body. Following your curves before your laughter filled the empty place. "Why are you laughing?" he asked, frowning slightly. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shook your head, "You came here to tell me that I looked good?". This guy was something different. Yet your fingers reached up to his jaw, brushing over his jawbone. "You're adorable," you muttered. This time it was Vince who was pulling away, "I'm not adorable."
You bit your lip, trying to keep a serious face. Of course, he would get offended by a comment like that. "Yeah, I forgot that you're an angry puppy, my bad," you said with a firm nod of your head. Vince let out a huff, licking his lips as he stepped forward once more, towering over you. "Careful," he breathed out, leaning closer to your face. "Or what?", you urged him, not willing to back down. Your own hands moved to rest against his chest as you stepped on your toes. His warmth seeped into your palms. Vince's arms were pressed on either side of you. Caging you within his arms, "Or you might see a very different side of me." Your smirk matched his now as you bit your lip, tilting your head to the side. "Like..." you pushed on, wanting to see just how far he would let himself go.
"Not afraid that daddy will get mad?" The warm feeling in your stomach turned to ice. The smile faded from your lips as you reared back. "Oh, fuck you," you hissed, pulling at his arm to get away from him. You should have known better. "Y/n," Vince tried to grasp your arm, but you yanked it away quickly, "Forget it, Dunn." With a quick look around the kitchen, you grabbed your stuff and headed straight to the door, cursing yourself for willingly choosing to come here in the first place.
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beatrixstonehill2 · 3 months
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Vince walked around his town's annual Oktoberfest celebration, catching sight of someone he hadn't seen in years, his high school crush, Natalie. Only not quite how he remembered her. "Wow, Natalie! Get a load of you.... looking better than ever!"
"Oh my god, Vince! I'm soooo happy to see you! And thanks.... I'm getting that a lot." She giggled, giving her belly a few good slaps as she guzzled her beer, wiping her lips afterward.
"Damn, you're putting those things away, huh? I remember you used to be all straight-edge, education comes first. You were cute, but not a whole lot of fun."
"Gee, thanks. I know, I know, I was so stuck up. But that's all changed now, and for the record this is my fifth beer already! Which, mmmm, reminds me!" Natalie slightly spread her bare legs and feet, pissing without a hint of embarrassment. "Mmmmm, that feels so good! I hope you don't mind." She bit her lip, talking as she pissed shamelessly in front of everyone.
"Not at all, a girl your size probably can barely control it, I bet."
She shook her head, still going, taking a big sip of her beer. "Just barely. I'm such breeder now, I'm getting used to just pissing myself if I need to. My womb is gigantic most of the time, my poor bladder's crushed. All the beer I drink probably doesn't help either. Mmmmm...."
"I can't believe how much you've changed. Last I heard you were a big shot in going to University in the city, about to get your Bachelor's. I still remember you tutoring me in English and I felt like a moron talking to you. Everyone knew you were the smartest girl in class."
"Those were the days! Well, I did good in college but my family talked me into dropping out and giving up on my education."
"What? For real?"
Natalie slapped her belly so hard it made a loud smacking noise. "Uh-huh! You know my family are pretty traditional, Christian types..... Sooo, they asked to talk to me and basically said that they were being quiet about how they really felt. They were proud of who I was becoming, but deep down wanted me to return to my small-town roots. They told me they always hoped I'd be barefoot and pregnant, sleeping around town, popping out kids left and right with a cigarette in one hand and a drink in the other. They talked about how they prayed I'd come to my senses and lead a normal girl's life like God wants, or whatever. They said I should be breeding and having tons of sex with all kinds of guys, satisfying the local men, not leaving one behind. I should always be pregnant, and basically make my whole life about pleasure, to embrace being dumb, and to stop embarrassing them by being this super smarty city girl in college."
"And just like that you gave it up to make them happy, become a dumb little breeding cow?"
"Yep! Pretty much.... And I've got to say, I'm way happier living a simple life like this. I have all the sex I want with whoever, drink all I want, smoke like a chimney, show off my massive belly full of kids to entice the locals into getting out a little pent up frustration on me! I do such a wonderful service to the community now. I really feel like I'm giving back every time these men fill me with their seed and pound away at my poor, swollen pussy...." She giggled, giving her belly another slap, finishing her beer. "Oh! All done.... better get another. You want one?"
"Sure, I guess."
"That's the spirit! While we wait in line how about you bend me over, hike up my skirt, and show me how big a crush you really have on me....."
"Damn, I should've come back home way sooner I guess...." He gave Natalie a playful spank, leading her to the waiting line at the makeshift tavern nearby, his cock already anticipating getting to finally fuck his first major crush, with some added weight, a much bigger ass, and a huge belly full of kids. He knew in the coming days they would need to do a lot more catching up, while she could still walk, that is.
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leafsbabe · 6 months
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Vince Dunn- thigh riding (SMUT)
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Vince and you had only just started dating when you came up with the idea. The two of you had spent every waking moment going at it like bunnies, so it was no surprise that your Valentine’s Day gift to Vince was something related to sex. Granted, maybe the sexy coupons were a little self serving, but so were the multiple sets of lingerie he had gotten you. 
Now, several months later, you had worked your way through most of the little booklet (and more than one pair of lacy nothing). The spark was still very much present, but Vince liked peeling you out of a pair of sweatpants just as much as he liked unwrapping you out of lingerie.
You were camped out on the couch when Vince came home from hanging out with the boys. He looked so good, even if he insisted on wearing shorts in the chilly autumn weather. 
You watched as Vince toed off his shoes before he made his way to the couch, lifting up your blanket so that he could crawl in with you. The tip of his nose felt cold against your skin as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. 
“Did you have fun?” 
He hummed against your skin before lifting his face so he could look at you. 
“I missed you though.”
Vince looked so cute as he said it, rosy cheeks and pretty curls. You wanted to respond and tell him that you missed him, too, but then he shoved his cold hands under your hoodie so you had a few less than sweet words for him. 
A little time passed with the two of you laying there. Vince had his hands still buried under your hoodie while yours alternated between combing through his curls and stroking his back. It was a cozy evening for the two of you, and you were half convinced that he had fallen asleep on you when Vince lifted his head again. 
“Do you want to use up another coupon this weekend?”
You gave his curls a tug, smiling as he let out a small moan before smiling back.
“We can do that.” Sex with Vince was always fun, but the times you tried new things just stood out. “What do you have in mind?”
There were several coupons left, but it had been a while since you looked over them.
Vince’s smile didn’t leave his lips as he leaned down, letting his mouth ghost over your skin and pressing the softest kiss to your neck. Another one followed, this time against your jawline, before he finally spoke —not in a whisper but in a low tone that you listen closely.
“What’s your fantasy, Bunny?”
He pulled away without kissing you again, but when he saw your pout he relented and leaned back down to kiss it away.
“Need me to get anything for it? Special lube? New toys?” He paused to kiss you again. “A costume for roleplay?”
There had been a certain fantasy in your head when you had written it down. One you hadn’t yet tried even after months of dating. It was a simple fantasy, but something about it just made you feel awkward.
But if Vince could be brave and choose to fulfill a fantasy not knowing what it was, then you could be brave enough not to shy away.
“No, we don’t need any of that. I just need you. And maybe some lube.”
He bit his lip, so wonderfully Vince that you wanted to pull him down and kiss him again, but the look in his eyes made you pause.
“You don’t want to put something in my ass, right?”
“Not until you want to put something in my ass.”
The relieved look on his face lasted for maybe three seconds before his face fell and the pout returned. He’d survive.
You sat up properly and Vince followed. The blanket you had been laying under fell away through the movement, giving you the best view of Vince’s pale thighs where he was spreading them on the couch.
At least you managed to catch yourself staring.
“You’re not allowed to judge, okay?”
Vince nodded, holding up his little finger in front of your face.
“Pinky promise I won’t.”
Instead of linking your pinky with his, you leaned forward and gently bit his finger. He laughed but let you climb into his lap.
“I want to ride your thigh.” You said, sat across both of his legs. Vince looked like he was about to say something so you quickly continued. “And I know it’s selfish, but I promise I’ll get you off right after and you don’t even have to do anything, you can just lay down and let me do the work. It’ll be fun.”
You definitely rambled at the end but you couldn’t help it. You were so nervous for his reaction.
“That’s so hot.” 
That wasn’t the reaction you had imagined.
“Fuck, Bunny, please. Yes. Whatever you want.”
Vince’s arms wrapped around your middle and pulled you closer against him. This also caused your laps to touch, making you gasp when you realized that he was starting to grow harder underneath you. Vince seemed into the idea though, rutting up to seek out the contact. Oh.
“You’re into it?” It felt like a stupid question but you needed to hear him say it.
"Yes. Take off your pants.”
He was already tugging on your waist band, one large hand sliding inside to palm your ass and pull you closer again while he leaned in for a kiss.
Laughing, you pushed against his chest to get some space between you two. “You’re going to have to let me get up if you want me to take them off.”
It wasn’t until you were standing in front of Vince that you realized how fucking beautiful he looked. Wild curls, flushed cheeks, oversized hoodie, and these tiny shorts you wouldn’t even need to push up in order to ride his thigh.
It didn’t take you long to take off your pants and sit down on Vince’s lap again, this time with only one of his thick thighs between yours. 
The first touch of your pussy against his bare leg made you moan, the feeling of his warm skin against you nearly enough to make you miss his own moan, echoing yours.
“Fuck, Bunny. You’re so wet.” His voice sounded so fucked out already. Low and needy. So pretty.
You slowly started to move your hips, riding his thigh like you had fantasized about. At first he only looked at you, but it didn’t take long for Vince to start moving, too.
His hands found your hips, your waist, the soft part of your middle. Everywhere and nowhere at once as he pulled and pushed. You moved with him, riding and grinding, getting yourself off on his thigh.
It was almost funny how fast you got yourself worked up, but the feeling of finally getting what you wanted overshadowed it.
Vince leaned up to kiss you while his hands gripped your ass and pulled you harder against him. His hips seemed to move on their own, fucking up to let you feel just how hard he was for you and mindlessly chasing his pleasure not unlike yourself.
The change of angle made you moan but Vince wasn’t deterred, mouth moving from your lips to your neck and sucking hard enough to leave a tender mark within seconds. 
“Please, Vinny, please.”
He kept on guiding you, dragging you against his thigh and against his hard bulge, not hard enough to hurt but enough to give you all the friction you needed.
You picked up your pace, riding him like you needed to, not following the rhythm he was trying to set. It was so easy to get lost in the overwhelming pleasure. You barely managed to get your hand into Vince’s curls to pull him up and unto a kiss before you fell apart, still grinding against him, continuing the pressure on your clit.
You didn’t know how long you continued to move —no control over the way your hips rolled against his skin— but at some point the overstimulation stopped and you sat there with shaking thighs, still straddling Vince’s lap. When you looked down you saw it were his hands that were holding you still, the soft surface of his skin between your bodies shiny from your wetness.
Your voice was still shaky when you spoke after what felt like an eternity. “Thank you. That was…” You trailed off, not knowing how to describe the experience.
“Fuck.”
“Yeah. That.”
Vince and you smiled at each other before both of you laughed, a short sweet giggle that made you want to lean down and kiss him. So you did.
It was only when his hands on your hips tightened that you remembered something.
“Hey, let me…” You tried to reach for his shorts but Vince stopped you.
“You don’t have to.”
“I told you I’d get you back. It’s fine just let me…”
He just chuckled, leaning back against the couch. “I’m good. Give me like… ten minutes to recover.”
When you just looked at him he relented. “Maybe fifteen.”
It was only then that you noticed the dark spot on his shorts. At first you assumed it was from you grinding against him but then you realized.
“Did you come in your pants?”
“Did you expect me not to?” One of his hands came up to ruffle through his hair. 
That and the look on his face —a perfect combination of bashful and cheeky— just made you clench around his thigh again.
“Fuck, Vinny, that’s so hot.”
“I try.” 
You let yourself fall against his chest, cuddling closer when his arms curled around you. At some point he picked up the discarded blanket and wrapped it around the two of you before relaxing back.
“We’re getting you those shorts in every color.” You finally decided.
Vince just pressed a kiss to your temple before resting his head on yours.
“Whatever you want, Bunny.”
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lukeevangelista · 9 months
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imagine vince streaming and you walk into whatever room he’s in wearing only his shirt and he. can’t. take. his. eyes. off. of. you. and his viewers are either giving him shit or just flat out confused when he ends the stream just to spend time with you
Shirt - V. Dunn
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Coming back with a draft I’ve been holding onto for a little bit <3 enjoy
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You crawled out of bed, Vince’s tshirt from the night before gracing your body as you heard his voice echoing up the stairs.
Slowly walking down the stairs, you heard his voice getting louder and louder as he continued to yell at Sammy and some of the other boys, who you assumed he was playing with.
You hit the bottom step when you heard him let out a ‘ah fuck’, signaling he had died; once again.
“Another round? You really want to get killed again?” You heard him chuckle into his headset as his eyes slowly looked over at you as you reached up into the cabinet to grab a glass to fill with water.
His eyes quickly left your body as he started up another round. You walked over to where he was sitting, standing beside him, but out of the camera view.
“Dude what the hell?” Vince shouted as he died, his attention on you; him suddenly not caring about the game that was dancing across his two monitors.
His chat was suddenly flooded about how he was playing like shit in the last few minutes and how the others were kicking his ass.
He pointed out a few comments as they came in while the round was finishing, making comments back as the boys quickly went to start up another round, but Vince had other ideas.
He muted the mic as he watched you walk towards the couch, his shirt gracing your body, “Is that my shirt?” He asked, already knowing the answer to his question.
Of course it was his shirt. Matter of fact, it was his dress shirt that went with the suit he was wearing the night before. He remembered how it felt feeling your hands taking it off his body after the game- of course he recognized the shirt- and the very thought had him wanting to shut down the stream immediately and drag you back to bed to relive last night’s activities.
An notification popped up on the screen to alert him that he’d died.
Yet again and this time, you were the one to blame.
You sat on the couch just out of view of the camera but in his perfect line of sight- his eyes catching you over the top of his monitors, but for some reason, he couldn’t remove his eyes from your figure as a beep came through his headphones, signaling another round was fixing to start.
It wasn’t like you were doing anything particularly sexy, and maybe that was the frustrating part. Just by existing, he was ready to toss his headphones and jump your bones.
You were scrolling on your phone when you bit your lip and laughed at something under your breath. A few seconds later, you laughed again and threw your head back, exposing the marks he left on your neck last night that trailed from your neck down to your chest where they peaked out from the collar of his unbuttoned shirt.
Another notification popped up on his screen to signal that he died.
Perfect.
While his chat was screaming at him for sucking ass the entire time, all he could focus on was getting you back in bed. He bid a quick goodbye and ended the stream before tossing his headphones aside and striding over to you.
“Done already?” You asked as you felt his hands grabbing at you, pulling you to your feet; his hands caressing almost every inch of your body.
“Shut up.” he said as he kissed you. “Bedroom, now.”
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shadeysprings · 7 months
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So Good. So Bad.
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—Stalker!Ex-Boyfriend!Lloyd Hansen x F!Reader
Summary — The Halloween party you and your friends attend turns upside down all because of your jealous ex.
Warnings — noncon/dubcon, toxic relationship, mass murd3r, k!lling spree, somewhat public sex, cuckolding of some sort, almost drugging, Lloyd being toxic and psychotic. There may be more I haven't mentioned but please read with caution.
Word Count — 7.2K
A/N — I know I said Sunday but my muse said no. Story #2 for my FREAKtober Fest and my second time exploring Lloyd as a character. The writing process was tedious yet exciting. The title and inspiration of this fic was taken from the song ILYSB.
Gif by the amazing @steve-kemp
As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️
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Aside from having the same shift as your best friends, restocking is the only thing you like about your work. Although it’s physical, it’s mostly mindless tasks done repeatedly, and the black shirt you wear acts like a shield from annoying customers who pester the ones in blue.
Your shift starts like clockwork; time in, grab the products from the warehouse, and begin stocking the shelves until you have to clock out. Though today was a bit more taxing than you expected with the cable aisle once more in disarray and you being tasked to reorganize and set everything in its proper place. You don’t understand the need to put in so much effort into something that will just end up messy at the end of the day.
But you do it anyway. 
Upon arriving at the aisle, you begin sorting out the boxes and dismantling the hooks from the shelves. You’re happy enough to be doing this alone—the quicker you work, the faster you’ll be able to relax and waste the time away. That is, until Kate stands beside you, seemingly tensed as she starts helping you. 
“He’s here again. TV aisle.” You don’t need for her to say anything more to know who she’s referring to and it just makes you sigh as you grab a box of an HDMI cable and hang it on the hook. “Jensen’s trying to help him but he’s being pushy about talking to you. How does he always know when you’re here? Didn’t you already change shifts?” She asks.
How you wish you knew the answer to that. “I did.” You say in exasperation. “Did he say I was on break?”
“You know we can’t lie. Besides, we have no idea if he already saw you before he came in. He could have seen you while you were on your smoke break.” She expounds and you feel a sudden wave of exhaustion wash over you. “Just—talk to him. Tell him to leave. If he tries anything, we’ll call the cops.”
“Yeah. Like they’ll do anything about it. Vince wouldn’t even allow that—bad publicity and all.” The sigh that once more leaves your lips is despondent. You don’t know what else you can do to make him leave you alone. “Fine. I’ll deal with him.” The box in your hand ends up being crumpled from annoyance.
“We’ll be keeping watch.” She says, a measly attempt to comfort you. But you take it anyway with a smile and push away from your cart to hopefully turn away the pesky client.
It’s been almost two years since you broke up with Lloyd. The sweet air that he once had turned bitter when you saw just how jealous of a person he was. You thought it was cute at first, comforting him after a fit and telling him that he was the only man in your life—until it wasn’t and he threatened your friend, John, even challenging him to a fight at the back of the club when he placed his arm on your shoulder as he introduced you to his girlfriend. 
Since then, he changed and the relationship you thought was almost perfect, snowballed into endless fights and the revelation of the toxicity he kept hidden. You thought you could make him realize that there was truly nothing to worry about, that his jealousy was misplaced. But you were very wrong, especially after he demanded you quit your job and move in with him instead. You’d make a really good housewife, was what he said and you knew you had to draw the line.  
It wasn’t the life you wanted. And it pained you to leave because you did love him but with the way he acted, you questioned if he truly felt the same for you for even the simplest of things, he failed to trust you. And ever since, he hasn’t stopped following you. Everywhere you went, at work or home, he was there, simply watching, observing and you’ve done all you can to push him away. But no matter how hard you try, he can’t take the word no.
The first thing you notice when you see him is the twitch of his mustache when he smirks. He looks pristine as ever with his yellow polo shirt and white slacks that match his black loafers—a complete mismatch to your black shirt, jeans and sneakers uniform. And it has you thinking, what the hell did he see in you?
“The new models just came in yesterday,” You hear Jensen tell him but it’s obvious that Lloyd is not listening, certain that he’s staring at you even with his blue eyes covered by sunglasses. “I can show them—”
“Ah, just the girl I was looking for.” He says, cutting off Jensen and stepping past him to head over to you. 
“Sir, she’s one of our warehouse staff. I’d be happy to assist you in—”
“Beat it, nerd!” Lloyd snaps as he stops to face Jensen, rolling your eyes at his misplaced annoyance. “She’s the one I want to talk to.”
“It’s okay, Jen. I got this.” You tell your co-worker, gesturing for him to leave.
“You sure? I can stay if you need any he—”
“Are you fucking deaf?! She said she’s got it, loser!” Lloyd turns from where he stands and you’re suddenly alarmed to see him charge over at Jensen. “Beat it or I’ll make you.” He threatens and you immediately wedge yourself between both men when you see Jensen isn’t backing down.
You place your hands against Lloyd’s chest, stopping him from getting any closer. “Lloyd, stop it! Not here—Christ!” Your voice raises an octave when you scold him, facing Jensen right after and unintentionally glaring at him. “Just go, Jake! I said I got this!” It surprises you that you sound quite like Lloyd but it doesn’t deter you from pushing Lloyd back further.
You hear Jensen speak but don’t understand him as you grab Lloyd by the hand and pull him over to the other aisle, heat rising up your neck when you notice several of the shoppers looking in your direction. There’s never any peace with Lloyd—everywhere he goes, chaos follows.
Once you’ve pulled him away from prying eyes, you startle when he stops walking and tugs on your hand, his arm immediately wrapping around your waist as he holds you close. He gives you a sickeningly sweet grin, effectively trapping your hand against his chest.
“What the fuck do you want, Lloyd? Why are you here?” You bite.
“I’m looking for a TV.” He says smoothly, “Besides, I missed my little Kitten and I know that kitty of yours misses me too.”
You want to roll your eyes at his crass comment. “You know I work in the damn warehouse. I know nothing about them.” You reason, grunting as you try to get away from his hold. “We have a sales specialist who can help you with that.”
“Oh, but I want you to show me the options.” The hair on his lip twitches when he smirks, “Or I can complain to your manager that his employees aren’t helpful to their customers.”
“Seriously? You’re going to act like a fucking Karen?”
“Would you like to see me try?” He challenges.
That’s the last thing you needed from him and you don’t question that he would stay true to his word and make sure his complaint reached top management. Letting out a sigh, you nod at his request and show your best customer service smile before saying, “How can I help you?”
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Your shift finally ends and you can’t wait to go home to wash off the day. After Lloyd pestered you with all the TV selections you showed him, he left with nothing and you tried your best not to show your annoyance at him though he knows he’s riled you up—he always does. 
Bidding your goodbyes to Kate and the rest as you leave the store with Jensen in tow. He offered a ride to the station—something he always does and one you couldn’t refuse after the long day. You just want to go home and curl up in your room and hope that Lloyd doesn’t show himself again after that awful stint. 
“Tough day, huh?” Jensen asks as he brings the engine to life and drives off from the parking lot. 
“Yeah. I’m just glad it’s over.” You respond, leaning back against your seat while you hug your backpack against your chest.
“Yeah.” He echoes, hearing his fingers tap against the wheel. “The line at the tech depot was pretty long too. Seems like every computer within town is falling apart.” He jokes, and you think it’s an attempt to lighten the mood. You still feel tense with the altercation he had with Lloyd—you just wish for once one of them would listen to you. 
“Hey, sorry about earlier.” He says and you visibly cringe when he mentions it. “I know you could handle him but knowing that he’s bothering you, I couldn’t just step away from—”
“Look. Jensen.” You sigh as you turn to face him. “I appreciate your concern, really, I do. But no offense, it’s none of your business. I don’t need a knight in shining armor to come and rescue me each time that idiot shows up. The others stay away because of how reckless he can be and I just don’t want you to get caught in the line of fire. Just let me handle him.”
You know full well why Jensen couldn’t get past that. After admitting to you his feelings since he found out you were single, he’s been subtly dropping hints about asking you out. You’d probably have taken up the offer if you met him before Lloyd but the trauma your ex has imprinted on you just leaves you thinking that any man who would dare go near would be the same. 
Silence fills the small space, along with a flicker of tension. You think Jensen would disapprove of your words, that he would insist on giving his unwarranted help. But all you hear is a sigh and you see the nod of his head. 
“Okay.” He utters, the rubber covering the steering wheel squeaking when his hold on it tightens. “I won’t meddle any—”
“JENSEN!” You shout and grab onto the handle of your seat when a car suddenly turns and blocks your path, Jensen stepping hard onto the brakes. 
“What the fuck?!” He shouts as he rolls down his window but you, on the other hand, sit still when you see Conrad, one of Lloyd’s buddies, step out of the car and walk over to Jensen’s side. “What the hell is wrong with you, bro?!” Jensen growls as he unlocks his door, ready to step out.
But you’re too late to warn him—Conrad pulling open the door and grabbing him by the collar of his shirt, trapping him against the side of his car. Lloyd then suddenly appears, with Chris in tow. He goes first to Jensen, the latter flinching when he raises his fist at him, threatening to lay a punch before leaning down and framing his arms over the edge of the window.
Your eyes dart to Jensen when he grunts against Conrad’s grip, glaring at Lloyd when he stares you down. “What the fuck are you doing here, Lloyd?!”
His eyes meet yours, darkness swirling around the blue and you can already tell that he’s angry. “What are you doing here, Kitten?” He says, a cocky grin on his face. “You couldn’t wait for me to pick you up so you got into this loser’s car?” He tuts, chin nodding over to your side and your door suddenly opens, Chris, pulling you out aggressively. 
You look around, hoping to call for help but you curse Jensen when you notice he went through the back roads. No one ever passes here, especially at this hour, and now the both of you are at the mercy of your ex who you see looming over your co-worker. 
You gasp when Lloyd sends him a punch, trying to pull away from Chris’ grasp to help Jensen, but it’s no use. You’re rendered helpless as you watch him send another blow, making the other bowl over to which Conrad pushes him further to the ground.
“Stay away from my girl, asshole!” Lloyd threatens before spitting at the other man, your eyes grow wide when Lloyd takes you from Chris and drags you to his car. 
You hear the sound of tires being slashed and several glass breaking along with Jensen’s pained grunts. You knew Lloyd could be reckless but you’ve never seen him this way before. He opens the passenger door and pushes you in, slamming the door harshly before getting inside himself. He doesn’t wait for his companions before driving off, your hand grabbing the side of the door with the speed he’s going. 
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” You shout. “Let me out of here!”
“You keep testing me, Kitten. Running off with other men like that.” He growls and you scream when he takes a sharp left, cars honking left and right at how careless he’s driving. 
“Are you that daft?! We’re over, Lloyd! We’ve been for years!” You shout amidst the panic that rolls through your veins, eventually getting the courage to hit him on the shoulder when he gets on the main road. 
But you soon realize your mistake when he stops at an alley and his hand immediately wraps around your neck, pulling you towards him. You grab on his wrist when he squeezes tight, your eyes wide as you fear that he would choke you, kill you on the spot. 
“Lloyd—” you gasp, slapping on his hand as tears fall from your eyes. “Y—you’re hurting me.”
“I will only say this once, Kitten, so you better listen.” His hot breath spreads across your cheek when he pulls you closer, the tick on his jaw setting you on edge. “You’re mine and no one, not even you, can change that fact. Got it?”
All you can do is nod, to agree with every word he says if it means you get to keep your life. 
“Good.” He huffs, the anger in him somewhat seeping away, loosening his hold around your neck. “Good girl.” The praise that used to send shivers of desire within you now has your stomach twisting in disgust. “And if I see that weirdo or any other man going near you again, you know what will happen.”
You nod once more and gasp when he completely releases you, leaning against your seat as you try to regulate your breathing.
He drives once more and you’re thankful he’s slower this time, doing your best to stay calm as you look out the window. “Where are you taking me?” You ask, although you already have an inkling of his answer when you recognize the area you’re in and the direction he’s driving to. You haven’t driven in and out of these roads for almost two years. After you and Lloyd broke up.
The smirk he gives you is enough of an answer.
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“Are we going to pre-game before the party?” Bucky asks as he plops down onto the couch in the employee lounge, shaking a tumbler of his protein shake in his hand. “Last year’s booze ran out so fast, I went home seeing straight. I don’t want to be sober on Halloween night.”
“You never want to be sober, Barnes,” Kate comments as she rolls her eyes, yet her interest seems to already be piqued. “But he’s right. Are we going to drink before the party or should we just hit the club after? I have a friend who can get us in at this club for free.”
“That could work but I’d rather enjoy the night drunk then get wasted at the club.” Bucky responds, taking a sip of his drink. “We could just meet up at someone’s place and pre-game there, then we can all go to the party together. Would save us gas too if we just take one car.”
“Who even lives near the venue?” 
You tune yourself out from their conversation and stab your fork into your lunch as the Halloween party is the last of your concerns. Besides, you don’t think Lloyd would be happy with you attending and you wouldn’t dare give him the opportunity to ruin the event for you and your friends or give him any reason to be mad again. 
Your friends exchange ideas, listing down people’s names of who they’ll be inviting for their plan of drinks and whose place they’ll be crashing when the door of the lounge opens and you freeze in your seat when Bucky calls out Jensen’s name.
“Hey buddy! You live downtown, right?” Bucky asks, patting the space beside him to which Jensen accepts. “We were thinking that—the fuck happened to your face?”
Your grip on your fork tightens when you chance a peek at both men, feeling your stomach drop when you see the bruise staining Jensen’s cheek. 
“Oh that?” Jensen chuckles, his fingers running against the side of his face. “I wasn’t looking where I was going and I slammed against my door frame.” You know he’s lying, though you’re somewhat thankful he didn’t expose what Lloyd and his friends did. Still, you feel the guilt nipping at the back of your neck. 
“You’re such a klutz, Jake.” Kate says with a laugh. 
Jensen makes a face in her direction and you look away when his eyes meet yours. “Why were you guys asking if I lived downtown?” He suddenly asks, shifting the topic. 
Bucky takes the lead again. “We were thinking of doing drinks before heading to the party. And since you live closer to the venue, maybe we could just meet at your place?”
“Depends. Do I have to provide the booze?”
“We can bring some and you prepare some.” Kate responds. “Sounds good?”
Jensen hums audibly as he thinks of his decision. You feel the tension circling around you as you sense his eyes on you while he speaks. You don’t dare to look up, keeping your focus trained on the lifeless pasta in your lunch container.
“I’m in. Though who’s coming? My apartment isn’t that big so I can’t really hold a huge crowd.” He finally says.
“I’m there.” Bucky says, mouth full of his protein shake. “Tell me what you guys want and I’ll bring it.”
“Me too. Though I’m bringing my boyfriend along—that cool with you guys?” No one seems to object and you look up to face your best friend when she nudges you. “You’re coming too, right? Amber’s dragging Nick along and we won’t be complete without you. I even planned this super cool costume for us.”
You feel your body shake at her question. The pressure of going to the event with your best friends growing in your chest, colliding with the added stress of meeting at Jensen’s place and the fear of Lloyd finding out about the plan. 
“I don’t know.” You say with a frown, closing up your container as your appetite has already turned sour from the anxiety crawling up your spine. “You know I don’t do well at parties. I’ll just stink up the mood.”
“Aww come on. Please?” She begs with those puppy eyes she always uses to convince you. “You’ll be with us and if it gets too much, we’ll leave. And if you’re worried about that psycho ex of yours showing up, I can just show Andy in his direction and he’ll show him a thing or two.” You want to latch onto the assurance she gives you but she doesn’t know Lloyd like you do. 
Still, you could probably think of a way to convince him—he’s never been apprehensive of you spending time with your friends. Except it’s not only them who would be with you; Bucky and Jensen would be there as well, and you’ve already witnessed what he’s done to the latter, the evidence staring you in the face. 
And that would mean you would have to lie. Though is it really lying if you’re just omitting out the information he doesn’t want to hear?
But the plan didn’t go as expected. 
Instead of heading over to the company party after drinks at Jensen’s apartment, like what was discussed, you find yourself nursing a red cup full of shitty alcohol in a dimly lit house while surrounded by your friend group and people you only assume to be Bucky’s college frat buddies. 
You tug on the skirt of your black dress that’s a little too short for your liking, the cat headband already irritating you with how long you’ve been wearing it. You don’t know why you’ve agreed to Kate’s idea for the three of you to imitate the costume from that movie—you’re just glad she didn’t push you to wear a bodysuit and that Amber was happy to trade with the mouse theme you were originally assigned to do. 
Speaking of your best friends, you walk around the living room as you try to look for them, no longer wanting to be alone amidst the foreign crowd. But you frown when you see Kate at the corner of the room, her boyfriend’s hand planted firmly on her ass while they make out. Amber, on the other hand, was just on the other side, with Nick barricading her against the wall like some prison guard. Though with the smile you see on her face, she doesn’t seem to mind being isolated by him.
Your eyes then dart towards the front door when the cheers of men grow louder than the music blasting in the house. Three people walk in, each one wearing a mask over some effortless casual clothes underneath. But the one wearing the iconic ghostface catches your attention, noticing him looking your way with the other two standing behind him following suit. There’s a somewhat eerie familiarity to their masked gaze that makes you look away and leave from where you stand.
“Not really what you’re expecting, huh?” You startle when someone says too close against your ear, making you look up and chuckle when you see Jensen smiling at you, an opened beer bottle in his hand. 
“It feels like I’m back in college attending a frat party.” You comment, making the both of you laugh and tapping your cup against his bottle when he raises it to you.
“You went to a lot of parties in college?”
You shake your head. “Not really. Wasn’t really a party type.”
“Same. But I had no choice with my roommate dragging me to every party.”
You have no idea why Jensen is speaking to you—after what he endured with Lloyd and his buddies, you’d think he’d steer clear of you, probably even fear you thinking that history would repeat itself. But deep down, you’re happy to be in his company, choosing it over being alone in a place you don’t even know half the people in. 
The both of you chat for a while, finding a less crowded spot in the kitchen and helping yourselves with the food and the drinks that are out and free for the taking. You still feel bad when the bruise on his cheek remains prominent, though with his purple button up and baggy gray slacks, you think it blends well with his cosplay of Bruce Banner when you asked him who he was supposed to be. 
“I’m sorry for what happened to you, Jen.” You tell him with a frown, leaning against the edge of the counter as you look down at your drink. “I didn’t think Lloyd would actually hurt anyone.”
“It’s fine. It’s just a bruise.” He assures, giving your arm a pat.
“What about your car? Didn’t they trash it?”
“They did. But good thing I have insurance.”
It surprises you how positive the air around him still is despite the misfortune he’s met because of you. You almost envy his happiness, and the happiness that your friends have and you find it almost unfair that Lloyd wasn’t like Andy and Nick, doting and loving towards their girls, when both those men are his friends. You wish he’d learn a thing or two from them about handling relationships the proper way. 
Sadness then swirls around you as you contemplate on what your life has become; always scared and cautious, that Lloyd would hurt another because of his jealousy, because of his unspoken obsession to completely possess you.
Your train of thought stops when you feel your cup being taken from your grasp, Jensen replacing it with a fresh one, fizz floating to the top of the amber liquid. “Jack and Coke.” He says. “Your drink looked a little stale.”
But before you could even take a sip, you hear spine tingling screams coming from the living room. You think it’s some scary prank someone has pulled on another, you and Jensen looking at each other and pushing away from your perch to investigate the commotion. But in just a flash of a second, the whole house is in chaos, people running, scrambling for their lives while the three masked men you saw earlier run amok, shooting and stabbing the party goers one by one and leaving them bloody and dead on the ground. 
No sound escapes your lips as you’re gripped by fear upon witnessing the bloodbath, your body refusing to move even when your brain tells it to. But the hand that grabs onto your arm has you shouting in shock, only to be muffled by another and your eyes wide with horror thinking that they’ve got you. But to your relief, it’s only Jensen and he places a finger against his lips, telling you to be quiet before pulling you amongst the havoc for a way out. 
You try the backdoor first but for some unknown reason it wouldn’t budge open no matter how hard he yanks it. He tries the window above the kitchen sink as well but just like the door, it’s screwed shut. He pulls on you once more, leading you down the hall this time, the rave music playing loudly in your ears pumping the adrenaline in your veins while the sound of the screams die out one by one. 
He makes it to the end of the hall, the staircase free from the killers but with bodies lying lifeless on the steps—a woman with her throat cut wide open and a man with a bullet right between his eyes. He looks back at you, telling you to be quiet once more as he gestures that you both will be heading up. But before he could even set foot on the first step, one of the masked men appears and kicks him forward, making him topple over the corpses. 
A scream is then wretched from your throat when you’re suddenly pulled back, the stranger trapping you against him while he positions his knife just under your chin, feeling the sharp edge of the blade kiss your skin. The man from the stairs kicks Jensen in the stomach then again, your co-worker writhing in pain as another joins his attacker, this time with a metal bar which he slams against his chest.
“Hello, nerd! Long time no see.” The one who kicked him greets, the timbre of his voice making your heart pound against your chest. No! “Whatcha doin’ with my girl, huh?” The stranger asks before pulling off his mask and you freeze when you see Lloyd’s face. He then turns to you, a cocky smirk playing on his lips and sending you a wink before he asks, “Whatcha doin’ here, Kitten? Thought you were at a company party?” The sly twist in his voice has you on edge.
The smirk on his face then fades, turning into a scowl when he nods at the man who’s got you trapped against him. You’re then released from his hold but not for long as Lloyd simply takes his place, grabbing you by your arm, wincing from his tight grip and dragging you into the living room where you see countless bodies lying lifeless on the ground and the walls of the house painted crimson.
He shoves you against the couch where you fall against something cold and sticky, only to realize too late, crying out to see that it’s Bucky you landed on; his blood staining your dress and your hands. But you’re then pushed away from him, falling back on the cushions as Lloyd kicks his body off the surface to take the space he once occupied. 
You feel like you’re about to convulse as you cry when Lloyd wraps an arm around you. You try to push away from him, not wanting to be near him but he shakes you like a rag doll, making you stop before gesturing over to someone you cannot see as your eyes are blurry from your tears and remain locked on your dead friend’s feet. 
“Gentlemen, thank you for all your help.” Lloyd says when the music finally dies and you look up, surprised to see Andy and Nick standing unscathed with only splatters of blood staining their costumes. But what has you more jarred is seeing Kate and Amber bound and gagged, sitting against the floor, they’re eyes wide in fear as they squirm to be free from their restraints. 
You’re suddenly off your seat and on your feet, determined to get to them, to help set them free and run away from this horrid place. But Lloyd is quick to yank you back, grunting when you fall onto his lap and his strong arm wrapping around your waist to hold you in place.
“Relax, Kitten. They’re safe.” Lloyd assures, his gloved finger grazing against your cheek. “Just had to go through some extra measures to keep them out of the way.”
“We did our part, Hansen.” Andy says, pulling Kate from the ground who forcefully tries to pull away from his grip while Nick does the same with Amber, who in turn quietly follows while tears keep running down her face. “Just don’t forget the deal.”
“Yeah yeah. Just make sure your bitches know what to say if they’re questioned.” Lloyd responds with disinterest. “Meet me by the end of this week for your payment.”
It’s all the words the men exchange before dragging away your friends, their wide and fearful eyes being the last you see before the door closes behind them. 
The sound of wood being dragged across the tiled floor then makes you look forward, seeing Chris and Conrad, now with their masks off, placing a chair in front of you and Lloyd while the latter drags Jensen’s beaten body and forces him to take a seat. Both men then go to work, effectively binding their captive’s wrists behind his back with tape and his ankles to the legs of the chair.
The sight of his damaged state breaks your heart as you helplessly feel guilty upon thinking that everything that has happened to him is all your fault. You never should have come here in the first place as soon as you found out about the change of plans. You should have just gone home or better yet, you should have just stayed at home where you know Lloyd would be.
Yet the universe could be so cruel.
“Look what we found on him.” Chris says in a serious tone before pulling out a small ziplock bag from Jensen’s shirt pocket and tossing it over your lap. You glance down at the clear packaging, seeing several small white tablets enclosed in it. What?
“Lover boy here was so desperate to get laid he brought roofies with him.” Conrad adds with a laugh, pushing on the back of Jensen’s head hard that his body jolts forward.
The bag is then taken from your lap, Lloyd holding it up close to his face as he inspects the white circles. You yelp when you’re suddenly shoved off his lap, falling over to the floor while Lloyd steps over to Jensen and grabs him by his hair, pulling his head back while he holds the baggie in front of him, breathing heavily like some wild animal through gritted teeth.
“You were gonna drug my girl, weren’t you?!” Lloyd spits out his words and on Jensen’s face, tossing the tablets in Conrad’s direction, your throat eliciting a gasp when he holds a knife to his neck this time. “Did you take any drink from him?!” He asks, but it takes a second for you to realize that he’s talking to you. He turns in your direction, eyes dark with anger. “Any fizzy shit this asshole gave you?!”
You don’t understand what he’s asking, why the sudden interrogation—then it hits you. In the kitchen while you were busy with your thoughts, Jensen took your stale drink, as he claimed, and replaced it with another. No—it can’t be. He said it had coke in it and sodas make a fizz. 
“I won’t ask again, Kitten.” Lloyd pushes and you nod out of fear, knowing that he would find out that you’re lying to him if you said otherwise.
The look on Lloyd’s face shifts into something that makes the hair on the back of your head stand. Like something sinister has possessed him with the way his lips curl in a playful manner. 
A groan leaves Jensen’s lips when Lloyd releases him and you push yourself back against the couch when he goes for you next.
“Lloyd, please—!” you beg as he tucks the knife in his pocket, yanking you from the ground and shoving you forward, planting you firmly in front of Jensen before forcing you to bend over. “Let’s just go home—you already beat him!” You cry, pushing against Jensen’s thighs when Lloyd doesn’t budge and keeps dipping you further.
You feel like you’re going to gag when the metallic stench fills your nose especially with how close you are to your bleeding co-worker and you attempt once more to push away from him, no longer wanting the both of you to suffer. But the world suddenly feels like it’s turning upside down when you feel Lloyd pushing up the skirt of your dress, a grunt leaving his chest when he roughly rips your panties off your thighs.
“Now, don’t be like that, Kitten.” He says in a syrupy tone. “Don’t you want to at least show him his sick fantasy of fucking you?” The tell tale sound of his zipper being undone fills your ears and you’re shocked frozen, scared to the wits end that Lloyd would take you here amongst the dead and in front of your friend who he’s beaten to a pulp.
You look away from Jensen when you feel Lloyd’s cock brush against your ass, his tip teasing your pussy lips. You then shout when Lloyd grabs you by the back of your neck, forcing you to look back at your friend who has one eye swollen shut, while the other is stained with blood and brimming with unshed tears.
In one swift move, Lloyd enters you, gasping for air at his sudden intrusion. Pain blooms at the pit of your stomach when he doesn’t allow your walls to adjust and begins fucking you at a brutal pace, your nails digging into Jensen’s thighs as you try to endure your abuser’s torment. 
Your body jolts against the chair, following Lloyd’s callous thrusts. You’re then washed in humiliation when you hear Chris and Conrad snickering at your sides, seeing them watch you with perverse eyes, sickened to the core as the thought that they enjoy what they are witnessing comes to your mind.
Both men then hold Jensen in place when he starts squirming in his seat that he almost topples over. Lloyd then abruptly pulls you up, pressing your back against his chest but only to grab on the straps of your dress and harshly pull them down from your shoulders, having your breasts spill into the open.
“She’s got perfect tits, doesn’t she, lover boy?” Lloyd taunts as he keeps up the pace of his hips, grabbing your breasts, kneading, squeezing, and pushing them together. “Why don’t you feel how soft they are?” And it’s as if things couldn’t get any worse, Lloyd moves you forward along with him, tipping forward when your knees hit the edge of the seat. His hands grab onto the back of the chair and you wail in horror when he forces your breasts to press against Jensen’s face, the sticky blood smearing all over your skin.
Lloyd laughs and so do his friends and all you feel is shame and disgust at what he’s doing to you—that the man you once loved would hurt you in the sickest way possible.
A gasp is once more wretched from your throat when Lloyd slams hard against your cunt, feeling his thick cock slide even deeper when your walls grow wet, the toe curling sensation from his tip repeatedly hitting that sweet spot of yours trying to take over. You feel like a woman possessed as you grit your teeth, pushing hard against the unwanted pleasure that slowly begins to crawl up your skin and seep into your bones, not wanting to give Lloyd the satisfaction that, despite such circumstances, he still manages to make you feel such a way.
Yet your attempts are deemed fruitless when you whimper and eventually turn into a moaning mess, your body responding to each of Lloyd’s touch; your pussy walls clenching around his throbbing cock with each thrust he makes and how your skin shivers, singing each note in sheer perfection as you climb higher and higher to your peak.
“You see that, nerd? You see how she turns into a fucking slut when you fuck her good?” He goads between heavy breaths, adjusting the position of his legs to have you lean more against his victim, his hands grabbing onto your tits once again only to rub it further against Jensen’s face, feeling the bristles of his goatee rub roughly against your skin. 
“Too bad you’ll never get to have this.”
Lloyd's hips begin moving more erratically, the sound of your skins slapping with one another filling the stolid air. You swallow thickly, refusing for any more moans to leave your lips as you’re slowly enveloped in ecstasy, Lloyd’s cock pulsing deep in your pussy.
A blinding white light suddenly fills your vision and you shake uncontrollably as you come hard around Lloyd’s shaft. Tears once again spring from your eyes and you’re confused about what causes it. Is it embarrassment from feeling the pleasure? Pain from Lloyd’s roughness? Or is it sadness of how the evening of fun turned into a nightmare? You can’t think as you’re dissolved into nothing, your body floating in orgasmic bliss. 
Lloyd follows soon, growling low and animalistic as he keeps his cock buried balls deep, painting your pussy walls with streaks of white as he spills his seed, filling you to the brim.
You think that it’s finally over, that Lloyd’s objective has finally been met. But a life draining gasp then fills your ears—not from you or from Lloyd but from Jensen. And it’s only then that you realize what has happened when you see Lloyd’s hand gripped on the hilt of the knife with the blade stuck deep into Jensen’s chest.
“No!” You cry out as Lloyd stabs him repeatedly, grunts of passionate anger escaping him each time he sinks the blade into the body before you. 
Tears of despair and horror are what fall from your eyes, closing them as you hope that this is all a bad dream. You ball your hands into fists as you try your hardest to close in on yourself, to leave this place of torment that Lloyd has condemned you into. 
Yet, no matter how hard you try, you just can’t. With the sound of metal hitting bone, along with the devious laugh of the men around you and the way your body shakes from Lloyd’s continuous blow, you’re repeatedly pulled back into the present, unwillingly witnessing the murder of your friend. 
You suddenly feel your body shake, your chest tightening that you think the room is losing air and the smell of blood getting stronger and stronger that it makes bile ride up your throat. With Lloyd’s final stab, he pulls you away with him, leaving the knife buried in Jensen’s throat. The world around you suddenly turns, your vision spinning uncontrollably that before you could even let out a scream, everything suddenly goes dark.
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You sit inside the employee lounge along with the others in somber idleness. The police came over just before the store opened and ordered that it remained closed for the rest of the day to make way for an investigation. Vince wasn’t happy with the commands of the law enforcers but there’s nothing he could do—there was nothing anybody could do.
A massacre, one of the officers said. A mass murder, another voices, declaring that some of the victims were employees of the store. You already knew who it was—Bucky and Jensen.
One by one, the employees were interrogated, some taking minutes while others taking hours. You glance at Kate who sits across from you on the lunch table, noting the small bruise on the side of her neck. You try not to imagine what Andy told her or did to her that night. You don’t even dare to ask as you refuse to relive the grim evening, nor want to feed her any memory of it.
You sit up once your name is called and you feel the eyes of your other co-workers land on you. The detective, stout and looking somewhat annoyed to be doing such a thing, looks your way and asks your name once more to confirm your identity.
He beckons you to follow him and you do, but not before looking down at your best friend when she grabs your hand, seeing the fear etched in her eyes. You give her a small smile and give her hand a reassuring squeeze before letting her go and following the detective into the other room. 
You do as you’re told when he tells you to sit, staring down at the round table that sits between the both of you as you wait for his first question.
“I’m Detective Bodecker.” He starts, his belly protruding as he leans back against his seat. “And I just want to ask you a few questions regarding your co-workers. Is that okay?”
You nod.
“Do you need some water? Anything to make you comfortable?”
You shake your head.
“Very well. Let’s begin.” He hums and grabs his notebook from the desk, flipping a page. “Where were you on the night of October 31st?”
Your mind suddenly begins reliving the night in question. Jensen’s bloody face and Lloyd’s devious smile playing in your head. You blink those thoughts away, not wanting to give out any information on your face.
Taking a breath, you begin your tale. 
“I was at a party—”
683 notes · View notes
callme-darling · 2 months
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i can’t stop thinking about all the pretty noises vincent would make while you give him a handjob :(
he works so hard, and does so well to take car of you, it’s only fair to repay him every once in a while, no?
it’d take you a bit, but once you finally coax his back against the headboard, god he wouldn’t even try to keep himself quiet. not when your pretty eyes are watching him so tenderly as your soft palm works the length of his hard shaft.
a bead of precum would leak onto your hand and he’d sigh so breathily when you bring it to your lips, tongue teasing the faint trail before licking a stripe across your palm. god, he could still feel the warmth of your saliva when it finally comes back to squeeze around his cock.
“merde…” he’d whisper, voice hoarse and eyes lidded.
you’d move to straddle his legs, arching your back slightly to pop your chest in his inviting gaze. your hand would continue it’s languid rhythm stroking him as his patience slowly melts away, head falling back against the wall.
your lips would meet his neck, warm as they kissed his pulse point. a low groan would tickle your ear when your teeth nip little red bites across sensitive flesh.
few words would be exchanged, but the way vincent would gently lift his hips in time with the squeezing of your hand was all you needed to know he was growing needier. panting like a dog against your hair, he fought the urge to cover your smaller hand with his own and take control.
a breathy chuckle slipped through your lips, a shiver running down his spine. “you’re being so good, vince… do you like this?”
he mentally cursed himself for falling for such a temptress. his lidded eyes blinked as they focused on you. your cheeks were flushed with a heat that no doubt reflected his own needy expression.
“if you don’t kiss me, i swear i..” he murmured, lips barely brushing yours, his eyes flicking to your own. the heady look in his eyes had you softly biting the flesh of your lower lip.
“you’ll what?” you challenged with a whisper, voice lilting in a juxtaposed excitement and nervousness.
vincent licked his lips, tip of his tongue ghosting over your upper lip. “i’ll remind you it’s not very nice to tease.”
“oh, but that’s my favorite part,” you pause, eyes aglow with mischief. your hand slides up his length, earning a shaky breath from the man under you. your palm squeezes firmly, thumb teasing the slit of his leaking tip. “it’s your favorite part too, isn’t it, vincent?” you make a show of whining his name, catching the way his chest heaves with the effort of controlling himself.
“you better finish what you started, ma cherie.” the sweet petname sounded absolutely dangerous paired with his raspy tone.
your other hand finds his right arm. your nails trace across the muscles of his shoulder before cupping the curve of his neck. he’s already leaning into you when your lips meet. it’s a needy melding of tongues and spit as he groans into your mouth with every twitch of his dick in your hand.
fuck, and when he comes, it’s so much. he’s got so much pent up frustrations from being overworked but too exhausted to take care of himself. so when he finally lets go, it paints his stomach and your hand in a pretty trail of translucent white. he’d pant softly, chest and ears flushed bright red as his still hard dick twitches when you use his come to pump his length excruciatingly slow.
his hips twitch, fingers wrapping around your wrist to halt your movements. “fuck- wait-“ he whispers through gritted teeth.
your own kiss bitten lips would only smile softly down at him before sitting on his thighs, effectively pinning his hips to the mattress. “it’s okay, baby, i’m not done yet.” you plant a chaste kiss to his lips as he catches his breath, “you work so hard, i’ll help you turn off that brain of yours,” you feel the grip on your wrist weaken. “mhm.. give me another one, yeah?”
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happy74827 · 27 days
Text
A New Moon
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[Dexter Morgan x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: Despite his gut telling him he shouldn’t, Dexter can’t help but fall deeper into the trap of his own emotions. And the more time he spends with you, the more he starts to realize what exactly those emotions are. {GIF Creds: beautifulguycollector}
WC: 2889
Category: Slight Lime/Spice, Friends to Lovers + Forbidden Love (if you squint) Tropes
Gotta keep this fandom alive somehow 🥲 (also… why are titles so hard to write? That and the synopsis are harder to write than the actual fic)
『••✎••』
You were too good for him. Plain and simple. You were a smart, beautiful, hard-working woman who had goals and dreams. He was a cold-blooded killer. Not to say that he hadn't been there for you, though. The two of you had been friends since… well, a while. A long while.
He couldn't quite pinpoint the moment he started to notice the changes in your relationship. It was a slow, subtle buildup, and the first time you called him your friend, Dexter thought nothing of it. The second time, it made him pause, but not enough for him to consider what the implications of you saying that to him could mean.
But when you said it again and again and again, he realized the meaning behind your words, the affection they held. Dexter couldn't say that he was particularly close to many people. There were a select few he'd consider his friends, but he wasn’t emotionally invested in any of them. And he didn't think he was invested in you, either.
But maybe he was.
Debs was different, and it made him question how much he was supposed to care about someone. But that was his sister, the one person in the world who loved him unconditionally. That reason alone made his relationship with Deb unique. He was sure of that.
The same went with Brian—his brother, as it turned out. And Harrison, his son. Dexter felt things for those people, but they were different. Those were family, the people he was genetically tied to. Of course, he would care about them.
But you weren't family, and yet he still cared about you. It was a different kind of caring. And it was confusing. Harry was right, after all. He didn't feel. Dexter had convinced himself for years that he was a high-functioning sociopath, but lately…
Lately, he was beginning to question if that was true. Simple glances from you could bring an unwelcome smile to his lips. And when he heard the sound of your voice, he could feel his chest warm. It was a nice feeling, something he'd only experienced briefly with Rita. But then, that relationship was different too.
It was hard to put his finger on it, but being with you was just… easy. And it didn't feel like work. There was no pretending. Dexter didn't have to act when he was around you. He didn't need to try to be someone he wasn't. It was the real him.
It was terrifying.
Because now, as he sat on your couch, watching as you moved gracefully around your small apartment, the feeling was back, and he didn't know how to deal with it.
He should have been home with Harrison, but the little boy was staying over at Debra’s tonight, so he didn't have any responsibilities. The passenger within him didn’t see it as a problem either, considering he’d just recently “disposed" his latest target.
It was nice, Dexter decided, to relax every once in a while. Work and family didn't give him a lot of opportunities to do so, and now that the two were temporarily taken care of, he felt he deserved to be lazy for a bit.
You didn’t have a TV in your living room, so the two of you settled for movies. Dexter didn’t really have a preference for them. He could watch a comedy, action, drama, or horror and not feel strongly for or against any of them.
Apparently, you didn't mind what he watched either because he could see the spark of excitement in your eyes when you pulled out the case for one of the worst comedy films Dexter had ever seen.
He'd seen it before. Not with you, one of the movies Vince shoved down his throat when he planned a night out with him, Angel, and Quinn.
It wasn't his favorite, not by a long shot, but the grin on your face and the way you eagerly skipped to the DVD player, set the disk inside, and closed the hatch made him bite his tongue.
Dexter had learned a long time ago that you were a very expressive person. And even though most of the time your feelings weren't displayed on your face, your eyes told another story. Such opposites to his own, Dexter often found himself fascinated by the light they held.
You had a passion for life that was rare, and it drew him in. It was a quality he lacked, and he could see it in everything you did. Whether it was talking about the newest book you read or making coffee, you put all of yourself into your actions.
It was something that Dexter had never understood. How could you have such a strong sense of self? Didn't it get tiring, having to live up to a standard of being so… so good?
But then again, you'd always been better than him. He might’ve been smarter in some regards, but what was smart if it didn't come from a place of morality? You were better, purer than him. He knew it, and everyone else did, too, even if they weren’t aware of how pure he wasn’t
That's why this was so wrong. This thing that had been going on for the past couple of months between the two of you. The subtle touches, the longing stares, the late-night calls. It was all wrong.
You were similar to Rita in some ways. You were kind and compassionate, always looking for the good in others. You had a knack for taking care of people, whether they needed it or not.
Dexter could tell that was your nature, and it was one of the things that initially attracted him to you. All the things he lacked, you had. But that didn't mean that you could replace Rita. He didn’t want you to.
And that was the difference. While he may have found qualities in you that resembled the ones he'd found in Rita, you were not her. Rita was gone, and it was his fault. She didn’t deserve to die, and yet she did. She deserved to grow old, to see Harrison grow up.
She deserved better.
The same went for you. You didn’t deserve a monster like him. The more he thought about it, the more he came to the conclusion that he should stay away. It was for the best of both of you.
And yet he was here. On your couch, watching a shitty movie and drinking the beer you'd offered him. Because, despite his efforts, he couldn't keep his distance from you.
He should've known. When it came to you, Dexter didn't have a choice.
His gaze drifted over to your form as you sat down beside him. You were smiling, your eyes bright and focused on the television. A lock of hair fell across your face, and you pushed it back, the sleeve of your hoodie falling down slightly.
Dexter had never been so tempted to reach out and touch someone in his life.
It was a feeling that had been creeping up on him the last few weeks, and now, sitting with you, watching a bad movie, it was at an all-time high. He'd never craved intimacy. But there was something about you, a pull that he couldn't deny.
It gave him a sick feeling in his stomach. Reminded him of that need with Lila. God, Lila. What a mess that had turned out to be. Another thing to add to his growing list of mistakes.
And yet, the longer he stared, the more he found himself leaning forward. He didn’t register what he was doing until his lips were a hair width away from yours.
You froze but didn't move away. The only indication that you were startled was the widening of your eyes. They bore into his, unflinching. He could hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears.
He was scared. Scared? Yes. That was what he was feeling. Why? He didn't know. Fear was new. It was a feeling reserved for Deb and sometimes his son, but even then, it was different.
But as Dexter gazed at you, so close and so beautiful, the fear melted away. It was replaced by a warmth that he was quickly becoming familiar with. It made his body thrum and his blood rush. It made him feel alive.
You were the first one to make a move. Well, not really a move, just the smallest shift forward, and then you were breathing the same air as him. You weren't kissing. You were just… waiting. Waiting for him to make the final move.
It was like an unspoken rule between the two of you, the power dynamic. He was the dominant one, and you were the submissive. You had never fought against it. You were a people pleaser, and he knew that.
It was one of the reasons he knew this was wrong. Because he couldn't stop, and you would never ask him to. Even now, as he hesitated, you waited patiently. You trusted him.
Why did you have to trust him? Why couldn't you be more selfish, more like him?
But deep down, Dexter knew that it wasn't your nature. You couldn't change, not any more than he could.
So, after another agonizing second, he closed the distance between you.
It was gentle, the way his lips pressed against yours. A stark contrast to the usual forcefulness he applied when taking his victims. No, with you, he was careful. Almost timid.
Your lips were soft and smooth, and the kiss was sweet. Nothing more than a simple caress. Dexter didn’t expect the tingling sensation it would cause, but the slight brush of your mouth sent shivers down his spine.
The kiss was short and chaste, but it was enough to leave him feeling dizzy. The heat spread through him, from the tips of his toes all the way to his cheeks.
Dexter pulled back, and you stared at him. His breath hitched in his throat at the look in your eyes. There was something there, something that mirrored his own emotions.
Was it possible? Was he really capable of such intense emotion?
Maybe he was.
You didn’t move. It was like time had stopped, and the only sound that could be heard was his own uneven breathing. That, and the movie playing in the background, which was forgotten as soon as your lips touched.
The urge to reach out and grab you was there. He could feel the need deep in his bones, in his soul. But instead, Dexter sat, staring. Staring into the eyes of the woman who had somehow managed to break down all the walls he'd spent his life building.
You didn't speak. There was nothing to say. No words could describe the feelings that had surfaced between the two of you. So, instead, you smiled. A simple, beautiful smile that had him feeling weak.
He could have stayed there forever, just looking at you, taking in the beauty that was you. It was a new experience for him, and it was nice.
“Debra is going to be pissed," you finally said, breaking the silence. “I’ll be bullied into telling her every detail."
He blinked. Once. Twice. Then, his lips curled up in amusement. It was true. Eventually, she’ll figure it out. Maybe she already knew but was waiting for confirmation. Debra was good at figuring out things, even if it wasn’t the most obvious answer.
His sister was good at a lot of things, like being a detective. And, apparently, being an interfering matchmaking nuisance.
At least she wouldn’t call you the things she called Lila.
The thought made him chuckle, and you looked at him in confusion, but it would have to stay a mystery to you. For what was life without a few private jokes between siblings, right?
You didn’t press for answers, though. You did what you’ve always done and waited for him—waited for him as if it was his turn in Chess.
And he did the only thing he could think to do. He kissed you again. And again. And again. And again. Until he had you pinned beneath him, your arms around his neck, and your breath coming out in heavy gasps.
The kisses were still innocent, just as you were. But he could feel the passion behind them, the hunger. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt that. It had been a long, long time.
But the longer he kissed you, the more the heat grew, and soon, he was lost in the sensation. Your hands found their way into his hair, and you tugged at the strands. His heart was racing, and the sound of his own ragged breathing filled his ears.
It was exhilarating.
Your lips parted, allowing his tongue to slip inside, and the innocence was gone. Replaced by a desire that left him trembling. The feeling of your tongue against his, the taste of you on his lips, the smell of your shampoo mixed with your unique scent—it was all intoxicating.
The movie continued to play in the background, forgotten as you pulled him closer. The warmth in his chest intensified, and Dexter didn't fight it. Instead, he embraced it. He gave in to his emotions and let himself feel.
He didn’t go too far; he knew you weren't ready for that yet. The craving was there, and it was strong, but the moment wasn’t right. Instead, he satisfied himself by touching your skin, mapping out every inch of it, memorizing the way it felt under his fingertips.
And, when you finally pulled away, breathless and flushed, he held onto you, refusing to let go. His eyes searched yours, searching for something. Anything. He didn’t know what he was looking for, but whatever it was, he didn’t find it.
He mostly saw fear, anger, and some regret when he had them pinned down beneath him. Of course, that was usually the case with his victims. Fear, anger, and regret were normal emotions—a reaction to being trapped by their own demise.
Having someone look up at him with emotions on the other side of the spectrum was different. Not a bad different, just... different.
Rita had been the first to look at him like that. Lumen did, too, once upon a time. And Lila, well, her emotions were never consistent.
But you? You looked up at him with an expression that was all too familiar and yet not quite the same. Your eyes were full of affection and desire, yes. But they were also filled with something else. Something he couldn't place.
Something he couldn’t understand.
"Dex,” your voice was so soft, a whisper. He almost didn’t hear it, and yet, he felt it. He felt the way his name rolled off your tongue, and it was like music to his ears.
"Yeah?" he whispered back. He didn’t know why he did that; it wasn't like the two of you were speaking in a library or something. Maybe it was the way the light danced in your eyes, the way the colors reflected off the white walls, casting an ethereal glow.
"I didn’t expect you to be… like this," you murmured. You ran a finger over his cheek, down to his jawline. He swallowed thickly. He could feel his pulse quicken.
"Like what?" he asked, his voice rough.
"Not bad," you replied. Your lips curved up, and his eyes were drawn to them. They were red and swollen from kissing, and it was such a contrast to the pale skin of your face.
"You think I'm not bad?" he said, raising his brows. "I'm flattered."
You shook your head. "You know what I mean," you said. "I just meant that you're different than how you come off. I didn’t think you'd be so... bold.”
He snorted. Bold. If you only knew.
"I guess I'm full of surprises," he said, smirking. You rolled your eyes and punched him lightly in the shoulder, only for him to catch it and press a kiss to the back of your hand. It was something he picked up from a movie once, and it seemed to be a pretty romantic gesture. And by the look on your face, it seemed to be appreciated.
You didn't say anything else. You didn't have to. There was nothing else to say. The two of you simply enjoyed each other's company, content to just be together. The movie might've been a failure, but the night wasn’t.
And when Dexter finally left, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. Not the type of relief he felt after a successful kill, but the type of relief one feels after a burden is lifted off their shoulders. The type of relief one gets when they are finally honest with themselves.
Rita was gone. Lumen was gone. And although his guilt and shame were still there, his self-loathing and fear were slowly starting to fade away. It wasn't gone, it was never going to be, but it was a start.
A fresh start.
A new beginning.
A new moon.
Yes, tonight was the night that changed everything. Tonight, Dexter Morgan learned that maybe he was more than the monster he thought he was.
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hockeyboysimagines · 5 months
Text
F*ck me like I’m famous
Warnings: phone sex, implied sex, alcohol, swearing, fluff, Vince being a sad boy.
Sorry this has taken so long. I struggled through the phone sex part, so if it sucks. Please be nice to me. Thanks to @cellythefloshie and @jostyriggslover96 for talking me through it.
Enjoy, let me know what you think🤍
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J:How’s Canada?
V:Oh you know, Canada is Canadian.
J:Not having fun?
V:I am. But I miss you a little. Not a lot though.
She giggled a little, biting her lip, before she answered.
Vince had left for Canada the week after their official first date. They’d spent every night together until he went home, leaving Josie here in St. Louis. It had been pretty sad, and Josie realized how much she liked him now that he was gone. The days had drug on, and they’d been making it work on the phone, talking when they were able, and nightly FaceTime calls. It was pretty unfortunate though if she was being honest. The most pivotal time in a relationship where you really get to know someone was being done through a phone screen. It had been tough to start, but smooth sailing for the past week. She would be heading to Ontario on Saturday afternoon and staying till the following Sunday. She was excited to see him but also nervous.
J:You miss me, or you miss my lady parts? Cuz she misses you too.
V:Jesus Christ.
J:Your gonna need him when I get to Lindsey next week.
V:🤣🤣🤣no I think that’s you.
J:Oh yeah?
V:Oh yeah. You should start praying now so you can get used to being on your knees.
Josie choked on her water and her whole body shivered.
After having sex everyday for the last two weeks or so, going without it for two weeks sucked. They’d exchanged some flirty banter but this was escalating. The more time Josie spent with him, the more things she learned about herself. And this was a new thing.
J:I’ll get on that right after I get off of you.
V:Just come now. I’ll pay to change your plane ticket.
J:No can do. I still have to finish packing.
V:So what are you doing? Besides tormenting me.
J:Just organizing my underwear drawer for my trip. What’s your favorite color?
She followed it up immediately with-
J:Nevermind. I think I’ll just go without them for the week.
And then her phone buzzed and Vince’s face appeared on the screen.
She answered on the third ring, shaking with laughter.
“Hello?”
“Are you fucking kidding me???” He whispered angrily on the other end of the phone.
“Vince hi!” She said cheerily “What brings you to call me so late in the evening?”
“What brings-you know what.” He was quiet and let out a long breath. Josie felt almost bad.
Almost.
“Are you okay?” She asked.
“No I am not. And it’s your fault.”
“Me?!” She giggled “What did I do?”
“You know what you did.” He mumbled.
She could just imagine him sitting hunched over, arms crossed, pouting so she decided to help him out a little. She bit her lip and took a deep breath.
“You know.” She said softly “I’m not wearing any underwear.”
He was very quiet on the end of the phone but she could hear some movement before he spoke “Really?”
“Mhmmmmmmm.” She wasn’t actually wearing any underwear, just a large T-shirt she’d acquired from his room over the course of the last two weeks. She let a hand trail up her leg “I’m thinking about you.”
“What about me?”
“About how much I miss you. How I can’t wait to see you…how I can’t wait for you to fuck me.” She felt a redness come to her cheeks. Vince brought out a whole new side to her she didn’t even know existed and she was appalled at herself right now. She had never even thought about having phone sex before and yet here she was.
It may have also had something to do with the four glasses of wine she’d consumed but if anything, this conversation was sobering her up at an alarming rate.
He coughed on the other end “And how would you like me to do that?”
“Uhm how about everywhere? How many rooms are in your house?”
“Nine.” He answered a little too quickly “And a pool.”
“A pool? Now we’re talking.” She said lowly with a small giggle.
“FaceTime me.” he said softly “I wanna see you.”
“Uh uh. This is more fun. Are you thinking about me?”
Her voice was sweet on the other end of the phone and she had him so keyed up he was thankful he was alone “I’m always thinking about you.” He responded. It was true. He woke up with her on his mind and went to bed with her on his mind. But she was clouding other parts of his body now besides his brain.
“Do you miss me?” She asked.
“Yes.”
“How much? Cuz I miss you a whole lot.” Josie let her hand slide between her legs and let out a little gasp “She misses you too. She’s been so lonely since you’ve been gone, with no one to take care of her.”
Vince chuckled nervously on the other end of the phone “And what is she going to do about that?”
Josie rubbed her fingers over herself and squirmed a little “She’s so wet. I have no choice but to take care of her myself.”
She heard the distinct sound of a belt unbuckling and Vince adjusting himself in whatever he was sitting in and he cleared his throat “Tell me about it.” He sounded almost a little nervous and she wondered for a second if this was a first for him too, but now wasn’t the time to ask. She felt some confidence exuding now because for once she felt like they were on an even playing field in terms of sexual experience. Most often she felt like he had the upper hand, but today things felt even.
“When I get there next week she’s going to need all your attention.”
She heard his breath hitch on the other end of the phone “You know she’s gonna have it.” He murmured.
“I hope so. Because she’s been so empty, with no one to take care of her.” Her fingers felt good as the moved inside of her and while this whole thing was totally hot, it would have been better if he was here. But this was the best she was going to get.
“Are you touching yourself thinking of me?” She asked sweetly.
“Mhm. I wish it was you though.” His breath was heavy on the other end of the phone and it made Josie hot just thinking about it “Fuck.” He swore on the other end. His voice was ragged like his breathing and Josie too had reached her limit.
“Are you going to cum for me?” She whispered, fingers moving faster inside of her. She definitely was, but she was holding out until he did as well, just like when they had the real thing.
“Yes I-Jesus fuck.” He he ground out from the other end of the phone.
Josie closed her eyes, head falling back “Vince I-“ but the words died as they came out of her mouth. It wasn’t a mind blowing orgasm like she’d become accustomed to, but it was enough to get the job done. It did however bring her down to earth when she realized if things didn’t work with Vince, she might not find another person she had that connection with. But that thought went out the window when she heard him breathing heavily on the other end of the phone.
He was quiet for a few moments before he cleared his throat “Did you-uh-“
“Yes. Did you?” She waited with baited breath for a second before he answered.
“Yeah.” Then he laughed a little “First time for everything I guess.”
She breathed a long sigh of relief and then laughed a little herself “Glad I could pop your phone sex cherry.”
“Can we FaceTime now. I wanna see your face.”
She but her lip “Sure.”
The phone started to ring and Josie took a deep breath before she answered. Vince was a little flushed and disheveled on the other side of it, but he smiled when she answered. She looked down at her lap shyly before she looked back up at him.
“You.” He said brushing a strand of hair from his forehead “Are a very bad girl.”
“Only for you.” She winked and rolled to her side, propping the phone up on her nightstand so she could fold laundry and talk with him at the same time.
“So are you all packed?” He asked, eyes peering at her through the screen. She got lost in them for a second, although the camera didn’t do them justice, and then nodded.
“Half packed.” She turned the phone to show him her open suitcase “It’ll be here before you know it.”
“Yeah.” He said frowning a little with a small sigh.
“I’ll see you in a week okay?” She smiled reassuringly at him through the screen and he nodded.
“Yeah. I’ll pick you up from the airport?” He seemed troubled, eyebrows furrowed.
She nodded and gave him a tight smile, settling into her bed “Just wish you could come earlier is all.”
He actually missed her. Not just the sex part, if that was all it was he wouldn’t be flying her out to Canada for a week knowing his mom would be around. He could find someone at home for sex.
“Cheer up lover. It’s only 5 days. Then you have me for a whole week. That’s a lot of time for activities.” She wiggled her eyebrows and he laughed.
“Yeah you’re right. Next week is going to be exhausting. In more ways than one.”
She giggled and smiled at him “Anything for Lord Stanley. And you too of course.”
They chatted for a few more minutes, as she reminded him of her flight times before they said good night and hung up the phone.
He sighed and set his phone down on the table and leaned back in his seat, arms folded. Josie had turned him inside out and he had no idea how she’d even done it. He’d never really been opposed to have a girlfriend, but he’d also never really wanted one either.
And amidst all that here he was, flying a girl across the country and FaceTiming her goodnight.
Which is why he found himself sitting on his mom’s sofa a short while later.
“So mom. There’s something I wanna talk to you about.”
She froze in her seat across from him “Oh boy. I don’t like where this is heading.” She set down her cup and turned to him eyebrows raised.
“No it’s nothing bad. Just something…good I guess. Well it is good I just-“
“Vince.” She said smiling “What’s going on?”
“So next week on my day with the cup, I’m gonna have a friend from St.Louis fly in and she-“
“SHE?!” His mom said eyes lighting up “She! A girl?”
He rolled his eyes “Yes mom a girl. Anyways she-“
“A girlfriend or a ‘girlfriend’?” She asked air quoting.
“A gir-.” He frowned “Actually to be honest I have no idea. A girl…friend.”
“I’m afraid I don’t know what that means, but tell me about her. What’s her name? What’s she like? How did you meet?”
He was definitely going to have to think something up for that last one because he couldn’t tell him mom that he’d taken her home an hour after he met her and then spent every night with her since then. She would yell at him for not being a gentleman but he also didn’t want that to impact the way she saw Josie either. He knew she was great, and he wanted her to think the same.
He couldn’t tell that to his mom.
“Her name is Josie. She’s great, I think you’ll really like her. And I met her out one day.”
She knew he was lying but she didn’t call him on it. He’d never asked but he was sure his mom had seen the photo of them that ended up online, and if she hadn’t he wasn’t going to start admitting to things now. Though he was an adult, technically, he went out of his way to keep his extra curricular activities private from everyone, but especially his mom. He suspected she knew about a lot of it, but it definitely wasn’t something they talked about.
“That’s it? That’s all you’re giving me?”
“I’ll let her tell you the rest. I don’t want to give away everything before she gets here.”
“Well you must really like her if you’re bringing her all the way here. This is a big week for you.”
He shrugged but she shook her head “No no. Don’t shrug at me. You don’t have to admit it, but I know that you wouldn’t fly her here if you didn’t like her…a lot.” She added at the end “But it’s your business. Either way. Looking forward to meeting her.”
***********
Josie usually slept flights away, but she was too amped to sleep. In just a few short hours she’d be seeing the guy she’d not known just over a months ago, but now she couldn’t imagine not knowing.
It was a little scary if she was being honest. Not Vince himself but everything that came with him. The recognition, the sport, the being a citizen of a whole other country.
Which was actually the scariest part to her.
What if Canadian Vince didn’t like her as much as St. Louis Vince did. What if when she got there he realized he’d rather have a girl from back home celebrating with him.
Was there a girl from back home?
She felt silly but the longer she sat on the plane the more she realized she was stepping into a place she’d never been, with people she didn’t know, to celebrate a trophy for a sport she’d never watched.
Given the opportunity she would have parachuted out of the plane but she didn’t think the pilot would be too understanding about her nerves. Though if he knew who she was flying out to see, he might.
The plane was fairly empty, and she had no seat mates on either side, which left her to anxiously bounce her knee without disturbing anyone.
There was too much cloud cover for her to really see anything. Canada would be a complete surprise and for a few minutes her excitement overrode her anxiety.
That was until the plane hit the runway and she felt like she was going to puke. The flight attendant glanced at her and did a double take, holding out a bag.
“Ma’am your green. Are you gonna throw up?” She leaned back a little bit.
“What? No I’m okay. Just…I’m okay.”
“Right…well maybe you should take this anyway.” She pushed the bag forward again and Josie took it.
“Have a good time!” The attendant called “Don’t throw up!” She said pointing at her.
Josie laughed and exited the plane, locating the baggage claim and grabbing her suitcase, when she felt her phone ding.
V: Let me know when your at the doors. I’m parked outside
She started typing to respond as she exited the doors and got a face full of sunlight, blinding her from seeing two feet in front of her.
J:I’m outside. Marco!
“Polo.” She heard from behind her.
She turned and standing some feet away, was Vince leaning against a black BMW, smiling at her. He was just as beautiful as she remembered, and as he had been the first time she’d ever seen him. His smiled widened as she made her way to him. It seemed like it took ages to reach him, her heart beating just a little bit faster with each step. As she came within a foot of him, she dropped her suitcase and he pulled her into a very hot, wet, long kiss right there in the airport parking lot. She wasn’t sure what to expect if she was being honest. In St. Louis everyone had already seen them making out on the news, but this was his home field and she wasn’t sure if he wanted to be kissing her so openly in public.
When he pulled away she was looking at him surprised.
“What?”
“Nothing, just didn’t know if you wanted people to see us making out in the airport parking lot.”
He chuckled and grabbed her stuff “I’m a Stanley cup champion I can do what I want.” He said opening the trunk and putting her bag inside. She felt a little lurch in her stomach as he slid past her to open the passenger door, hand sliding across her lower abdomen as he guided her into it and then shut the door. He’d had his hands on every part of her body and a little touch on the wait was doing her in. She took a deep breath trying to will away the redness that came to her face as he made his way around the car and slid in. She couldn’t believe how nervous she was. But then he turned and smiled at her and she remembered they’d already done a plethora of sexual things in various places and she relaxed a little bit.
“Ready?” He asked brightly, starting the car and turning to her.
“I think so. Unless you’re sick of me already.”
“Sick of you? Never.” He backed out of his spot and left the parking area of the airport. As he drove she saw the buildings start to fade away little by little and they were replaced by some of the most beautiful scenery she’d ever seen.
“So this is Canada?” He glanced over to find Josie peering out of the window smiling a little “The view sure beats down town St. Louis.”
He smiled a little bit and shrugged “Yeah maybe. But Canada doesn’t have you so I guess that makes it even.”
Josie rolled her eyes and blushed “That was so cheesy.”
“I couldn’t help it. It’s true though.” She looked so good after not seeing her for a week. She always looked good, but he realized now how much he actually liked her. And he was pretty sure she felt the same considering that she’d flown all this way to see him for only a week.
“On a scale of 1 to 10 how likely am I to see a Moose?” She asked still leaned forward.
“Probably pretty likely, but I should warn you to not try and pet them. Not the friendliest. And actually just don’t pet any of the wild animals you come across. There’s not many friendly things running around the forests in Canada.”
“I guess I can only find friendly things from Canada on Ice then.”
“Ha ha.” He said with a smile and watched her, watch the outside.
“It’s beautiful here.” she commented glancing at him “I have no clue where I am, but it’s beautiful nonetheless.” The trees were so thick Josie couldn’t even see through them as they made their way down the road. She hadn’t seen a car since they left the airport.
“It is.” He was quiet for a minute before he spoke again “So….is it okay if I kill you?”
Josie turned slowly to look at him for a full 10 seconds before she burst out laughing “Sure. Just make sure I still look good for the open casket if you wouldn’t mind.”
“Okay deal.” He reached a hand over to rest it on her leg “It’s really nice to have you here.”
“It’s nice to be here. I like getting to see where you come from.” She sounded genuine, and she smiled at him, resting her hand on top of his “Thanks for bringing me on my first Canadian adventure.”
“Hopefully with any luck it won’t be your last. Just stay away from the Moose.”
**********
Josie could see now that Vince was just as popular here as he was in Missouri as she followed him along through the place there meeting his friends and family. She hadn’t even had a chance to unpack her stuff, which was still in his trunk, but she was excited to meet them and get it over with. He didn’t know it, and she wouldn’t tell him but her nerves were a live wire.
He made her nervous that first night but that was nothing compared to this.
“Come here.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her forward behind him through the crowd.
“Mom. This is Josie, Josie this is my mom.” Vince’s mom was smiling at her and waved away her outstretched hand and hugged her instead “It’s nice to meet you, I wish I could say I’ve heard so much about you but Vince only just told me you were coming yesterday and won’t give me any details.” She smiled cheekily at him and then looked back at her.
Josie looked at him for guidance. She wasn’t about to tell his mom that they’d met in a bar and he’d taken her home and had sex half the night.
“We met out one night after the cup.” He said smiling at her “Schwartzy spilled a drink on her.”
“Mr. Stanley Cup Champion over here swooped in like Batman and saved the day.” She gave him a nudge “My hero.”
“I do what I can.” He said with a shrug, but smiled and wrapped an arm around her waist.
The rest of the day went great. She was a bit all around. His friends and family kept pulling him aside to tell him how great she was, which he knew of course. He watched her as she interacted with friends of his, when he felt his mom at his shoulder.
“She’s lovely.” His mom said as she looked at Josie talking with them, laughing like she’d known them for years “And so gorgeous.”
Vince nodded “She is right?”
“How did you meet her again?”
Vince bit his lip and looked at his mom who continued “Because I vaguely recall someone sending me a photo of you kissing some girl that wound up on the news. That would happen to be her would it?”
“Uhm.” He glanced at Josie and then his mom and gave her his best smile, one he usually used to get himself out of trouble “That’s actually from when I met her.”
His smiled faded a little when his mom looked at him flatly. That smile never worked with her “Uh huh. Well maybe next time just think about who you’re kissing after you win a major trophy and remember, the internet is forever.” Then she smiled “You seem happy.”
He nodded “I am. She’s great, and I really like being around her.”
“I would hope so. You flew her all the way out here. You don’t fly someone you don’t like into another country.”
He shrugged “I do. But…I don’t know just seeing what happens I guess.”
“Hmmmm.” She pursed her lips and smiled glancing at him.
“Knock it off.” He said bumping his mom’s shoulder.
“I’m just saying. You seem different with her is all. None of my business.” She pinched his side and wandered away giving him a long pointed look as she did. He squeezed through people saying hello as he did, and found her sliding her glass to the bartender.
“You’re popular.” He said into her ear, one hand reaching forward to grip hers. She smiled at him and felt redness come to her cheeks, both from the wine and from him holding her hand in front of his family.
“Just like back home. I’m sorry you’re so lame and no one wants to talk with you.” She made a pouty lip at him and squeezed his hand. He rolled his eyes, smile widening.
She looked so good in Canada, in a bar with his family and friends, her white dress bright against her tan skin.
“Let’s get out of here. You have two weeks worth of phone sex and dirty texting to make good on.” He waggled his eyebrows at her. They said their goodbyes and much to her delight, he never let go of her hand, and they made their way into his car, driving mostly in silence, and then into his house. It was dark and late, and the sounds of the night could be heard from everywhere as he unlocked his front door and she stepped past him and inside. She heard him shut the door and lock it and a ripple of excitement started to creep through her, sending an electric current into every nerve in her body.
“So.” He said from behind her, causing her to turn. He was half illuminated, half in shadow as he dropped her bag by the door “Which room do you wanna start in?”
She grinned and took a step back “Catch me and find out.”
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y2kstratusfaction · 4 months
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enemies to lovers (kinda) - 2000s randy orton x fem! reader
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author's note: hiiii! 2000s randy orton has my soul, he is so fine and for what??
You've seen Randy walk around backstage, nose high up in the air, a smug smile on his face. You weren't one to judge people without talking to them first, but from the way Randy carries himself, thinking he's the greatest thing since sliced bread, it made you hate his guts.
One day, as you're preparing for your own match, you catch a glimpse of Randy leaning against a locker, chatting with Rhodes and DiBiase Jr., his personal Tweedledee and Tweedledum. His eyes lock onto yours for a moment, and that familiar arrogance glints in his gaze. You can't help but roll your eyes and continue lacing up your boots. His smirk makes your blood boil. And the fact that you can’t seem to read his intentions makes it even worse.
He’s used to getting his way with a threat of a fist to a face, but when he tried to size you up and you were less than impressed, he was caught off guard and confused. And from that moment onward, Randy made it his mission to get a reaction from you that isn’t a snide remark, a sneer, or you just flat out ignoring him.
He tried pouring tanning oil in your bag, hiding your gear, and locking you in the broom closet. But your nonchalance only made Randy go further into his temper tantrum. His words don’t do much damage either.
“If you put that much lipstick on you, your lips might fall off.” “I think it’s best if I don’t get makeup advice from a guy whose face tan doesn’t match his legs.”
Cody and Ted noticed it, and they weren’t much help to Randy’s case. They would tease him about his apparent obsession with you, and the more they prodded, the more vehemently he denied it.
"It's like you're obsessed with her or something," Cody teased one day in the locker room. "I am not!" Randy retorted defensively. "You think she’s pretty, don’t you?" Ted chimed in with a sly grin. "She is NOT pretty," Randy insisted, though his quick dismissal seemed less convincing each time.
OKAY. Maybe Randy did catch himself looking at you for a second too long, noticing if you were uncomfortable by how you furrow your brows, or how good you looked in blue. But that’s beside the point! You hated his guts, he hated yours. End of story.
That’s what he would usually tell himself. But one fateful night made him question his apparent hate towards you. You were just getting ready for your match against Lita when, waiting at the gorilla, Randy walked up to you.
"You're gonna hurt yourself without these," he says, offering you a roll of wrist tape. You raise an eyebrow, surprised by the gesture. "What's the catch?" "No catch," he replies, a hint of sincerity in his voice. "Just don't want you falling apart out there." You take the tape, a bit skeptical, but appreciative nonetheless. As you start wrapping your wrists, he lingers, watching you carefully. "There. Now you won't completely embarrass yourself," he teases. You shoot him a playful glare, surprised at the unexpected act of kindness. As he walks away, you catch him glancing back at you, a genuine smile on his lips.
Randy continued his torments afterwards, acting like nothing happened, but his words and pranks were less intense this time around. One Tuesday afternoon, Vince called you to tell you that Randy chose you to be his partner for a mixed tag match against Masters and Torrie. That was weird. Why would Randy pick you? Knowing full well that you hate him just as much as he hates you? Suspicious. You’re put on edge for the entire week until the night of the match.
Despite Randy being a hard-ass backstage, he was a far better person to work with in the ring. The match went on as planned. Low blows, eye scratches, the whole shebang. But when Randy and Masters were squabbling at each other, you notice a steel chair on the spot where Randy was supposed to take a DDT. You scramble your way to the ring, making sure to be as discreet as possible. It went unnoticed for the most part, but Randy caught wind of what you were doing. After the match, Randy called to you just before you went in your rented car and left the parking lot. He hesitated for a moment before speaking.
"You know," he started, "I never thought I'd say this, but you're not as terrible as I thought." You snort, your brow raised, “Wow. That’s high praise coming from you.” He chuckled, a sound that you haven’t heard before. "I mean it. Thanks for the save back there.” “It’s no problem. Can’t have the legend killer killed now, would we?” Randy leaned on the hood of your car, “Listen. Are you free tomorrow?” His voice went softer after each word he spoke. “Yeah, why? Wanna ask me out on a date or something?” You joked, waiting for his scoff. But it never came. You turn your head and meet his eyes. Randy was blushing. The sight made you want to rub your eyes to see if it’s actually real. And it is undoubtedly so. A blush of your own makes its way to your cheeks. You decided to put Randy out of his misery, “Pick me up at 7.”
You don’t give Randy the chance to react. You lean forward to kiss him on the cheek before driving off and leaving Randy in the parking lot with a dopey smile on his face.
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loveandmurders · 3 days
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Monsters love their wives II (Bo Sinclair x f!reader)
Hello everyone! This is the last part of this mini series about Bo being an idiot and hurting his wife even though he loves her. You can find the first part here.
Hope you'll enjoy <3
Warnings: ANGST, comfort (in a dark way I guess), violence (graphic), blood, murders, fear, strong words, very morally grey reader, toxic relationship, mentions of cheating and sexual activities, mentions of torture, suicide and death, threats of sequestration... But Bo loves you 🥺
Bo had tied up the girl on the chair and had glued her lips together because he didn’t want to hear her screams.
He just needed to take his anger out and she was perfect for that, especially after what she just did. He was beating her with violence and insulting her.
“Ya saw this, whore?” he told her as he showed her his wedding ring “Kissin’ a married man, ya bitch, and believin’ I'd want ya” he said as he punched her face one more time. Her cheeks and eyes were already starting to swollen as her nose and lips were bleeding. He was about to break her fingers one by one, when he heard the door being opened which made him pause. He really hoped it wasn’t you because he didn’t want you to see him covered in blood like that. You were already afraid of him, no need to add more to it.
He was very confused when he saw Vincent coming downstairs and he turned his back to the girl who tried to scream for help.
“Better be important, Vince. Can’t ya see ’m busy right now?” he asked Vincent who started to angrily sign:
"It’s about your wife. Important enough for you?"
“... Ya know she is.” Bo nodded, a little bit worried now.
"Well Y/N thinks you are cheating on her and soon going to kill her! I promise her you were going to kill that bitch in front of her, but you better think of something very fast or you are going to lose her forever."
“What?” Bo was completely taken aback. He felt his heart sinking inside his chest. “But I love her, none of this’ true” he whispered
"Well if you hadn’t fucking hurt her the last morning and if she hadn’t seen you kissing that slut, maybe things would be better right now, fucking idiot!"
“How? What was she doin’ here?” Bo wondered, not even caring about the way Vincent was talking to him.
"Don’t know, don’t care. Bring the girl for a public execution. Because of you, I won’t even be able to use her body for the House of Wax or anything. No need to upset Y/N even more. Good job, really." Vincent paused for a few moments. "Fuck, Bo, don’t tell me you’re cheating on your wife."
“O’course not!” Bo exclaimed as he turned around and gave another vengeful punch on the girl’s face.
She lost consciousness and he started to untie her. Vincent helped Bo bring her back to the house to show you she meant nothing to your husband. 
The eldest Sinclair brother was silent as he was trying to think on how he could fix the situation with you. He also was wondering what you were doing at his garage. He wasn’t naïve enough to think that you came to earn cuddles from him - even if he would have been more than happy to drop his work to show you how sorry he was. 
When you saw the two men in the house, you had to admit you were a little bit relieved to see that Bo’s hands were covered in the girl’s blood and that he didn’t seem like he was in the middle of fucking her when Vincent interrupted him. Bo let the girl fall on the ground without a care in the world and quickly walked to you to cup your face in one hand. You refused to look at him at first but he forced you. He needed to see your eyes and he looked for them before telling you:
“Ain’t cheatin’ on ya, wife”
You swallowed hard and you fought against the thought that he seemed sincere. You removed your face from his hand and looked away. But he grabbed your face once again, in a very gentle way.
“I mean it. Ain’t cheatin’ on ya.” he insisted
“Then why were you kissing that girl?” you asked, gesturing with your head toward the woman
“And what were ya doin’ at the garage?” he asked back and it made you frown.
“Bo” Lester rolled his eyes at his big brother and Vincent also groaned in disapproval at Bo’s question, saving you from answering. 
“Alright, alright” Bo grumbled as he let go of your face and knelt in front of you “She jumped on me, didn’t have time to stop her. Didn’t ya see me pushin’ her away? And once downstairs, I wasn’t… Ya can ask Vince, I was beatin’ her to death when he came. Ya can see the state of her face” he softly told you and you looked at the woman. Vincent roughly grabbed her by the hair to show you her face, and you had to admit she wasn’t looking too good. She groaned in pain as she was slowly getting back to reality.
“What do ya think, sis?” Lester asked you and you nibbled on your bottom lip. 
It was true that it didn’t seem that Bo was cheating on you with that girl in particular. But it didn’t mean he wasn’t going to kill you, and it didn’t mean you shouldn’t find a way out of Ambrose whenever you would be able to.
“Just kill her already. But not on my floor. I don’t want blood everywhere” you finally replied.
The boys relaxed a little, because you still seemed to consider this house as your home. Hence, it meant you weren’t going to leave. Bo kissed your forehead and you had to resist the urge to flinch away from him. He grabbed the girl by the hair and pulled her out of the house. Lester and Jonesy stayed by your side as the twins quickly put her out of her misery. She was quite lucky you had been there or your husband would have tortured her for hours before killing her. 
“How feelin’?” Lester asked you and you simply shrugged
“Gonna grab that nap now” you replied and he nodded.
“Sounds like a plan, love” he agreed and he helped you to get up and followed you upstairs. He tucked you to bed and wished you to sleep well before closing the door behind him. Jonesy stayed with you and settled at your feet. You took comfort in her presence.
You did sleep a few hours, but you woke up covered in sweat, with the very clear thought that you needed to run away now. You didn’t remember the dream you had before waking up, but it was obviously a nightmare. You were feeling absolutely panicked. It woke up Jonesy who asked to get out of the room. So you got up, opened the door for her and then you frantically started to look for clothes in your wardrobe. You needed to find an outfit you would be comfortable in and you needed good shoes and…
You heard a very soft knock at the door and you froze, as Bo slowly opened it. He was about to ask you how you were doing and if you were hungry, when he saw you. Your hair was sticking to your forehead. You looked like a deer caught in headlights; you looked almost ill. He locked the door before coming closer to you. The gesture alone made you sick.
“Whatcha doin’?” he softly asked, his blue eyes piercing yours. 
“Just… looking for clothes… I need a shower. I’m not feeling too well” you replied, half the truth, aware he would instantly know if you were lying to him.
“Still thinkin’ ‘m cheatin’ on ya?” he asked as he took a step closer to you and your breath caught in your throat. You didn’t trust your voice so you simply shook your head. “But ya’re still afraid ’m gonna kill ya?” he asked again and you cursed yourself for having said that to Vincent and Lester. You should have been smarter.
“I just need a shower. Please let me unlock the door” you said because you were just unable to sincerely reply to this question. You grabbed an outfit, without even really looking at it and you tried to walk past him but he grabbed your wrist.
“I know I shouldn’t’ve hurt ya” he said as he brought you closer to him. He took the clothes you had in your hands and threw them on the bed. He took both of your hands in his. “I was worried my wife wanted to go. O’course, I shouldn’t’ve reacted that way. But even if ya’re afraid of me, for the moment, ya don’t want to go no more? Ya know your place’s in Ambrose, by my side, right? Ya know I want ya and only ya? Ya know I’ll never let ya go anyways?” he whispered to you with a gentle smile
“Is it a threat?” you asked as you tried to stay strong. He quickly shook his head
“Ah baby, it’s just a promise. We’re married, remember? Together 'till the end.” he mused as he stroked your nose with his.
“Yes, untill you kill me” you told him and he looked back at you, his head moving to the side. It was really saddening for him.
“What were ya doin’ at my garage earlier?” he asked but you didn’t answer “where ya trying to find a way out? Did ya think ya could find some help?” he asked and you looked away. He grabbed your face, a little less gently than earlier that day “Answer, Y/N” he sternly told you and you heard the danger just under the surface of his calm voice
“I wanted to find a way out, yes” you admitted and it made Bo groan in anger.
“And why that? Don’t ya know it’s your duty to stay by my side, as my wife?” he asked you as he pushed you against the nearest wall. You just wanted to cry again but you didn’t want to give him that kind of power over you.
“And you, isn’t it your duty to take care of me? To be good to me? As my husband?” you asked back “You hadn’t been nice to me in weeks. You even did this to me then” you continued as you moved a hand on your sore and bruised throat.
Bo stayed silent and his dark demeanour instantly disappeared. He tenderly stroked your cheek before bringing one of your hands to his lips to kiss.
“Don’t be afraid and don’t leave, and things will go back to normal” he promised
“I’m afraid, Bo” you replied
“It won’t happen again. I’ll do better. But don’t try to leave” he warned you
“Or what? You'll kill me?” you insisted, even though you knew you were playing with fire in this instant
“But love, why would I do that?” he asked as he pressed himself even more against you. You could feel his breath against your face “Don’t want to kill my wife. I want ya here, with me, forever” he whispered to you
“You can always ask Vince to turn me into a wax statue” you said and he let escape a humourless laugher
“A wax statue wouldn’t argue, talk and flirt with me, wouldn’t make love to me, wouldn’t tell me it loves me… Ya still love me, wife?” he asked as his lips were almost against yours but you turned your head to the side to prevent him from kissing you “Oh com’on, doll, ‘m missin’ ya so badly” he whined
“So what would you do if I left? You said…” you started but he cut you off
“Ya know that when ‘m angry, I say stuff I don’t mean. But I do mean that ya better don’t try to leave. I would indeed hunt ya down and bring ya back to Ambrose, where ya belong”
“And that’s all?” you asked, you needed to know what Bo had planned for you
“And I would tie ya up on that bed until ya would behave like a good girl. If I need to lock ya up inside the house to keep ya here, be certain it’s what I’ll do, without a second of hesitation. So do I need to tie ya up, love? Or will ya be a good girl to me?” he asked
You didn’t even need to think; you cupped his face with both your hands and you crashed your lips against his. You didn’t want to be tied up. You didn’t want to lose the small freedom you still had by badly reacting now. You were still afraid but you needed to be smart. Bo instantly replied to the kiss, so happy to finally be allowed to touch you that way. He was passionate, but also so gentle with you, as if he was afraid he could break you if he was too forceful. His hands were soon all over your body, enjoying to feel you. You were a drug to him, and not being able to touch you was quickly making him lose it. His lips trailed down from your mouth to your throat. He left very tender little kisses all over your skin, as a silent way to apologise for what he did. 
“Fuckin’ love ya” he whispered to you “Ya know that, right? Would go completely insane without ya in my life. That’s why I can’t let ya go. That’s why I needed us to get married. I’m gonna be good to ya, I swear. As long as ya don’t try to go” he murmured to you in between kisses.
You simply nodded because you had no idea what to answer to this. You were a little bit surprised by such words and touch, and you wanted to believe him. You wanted to let go of your fear of the man, and you wanted things to go back to normal.
But something was broken now, and Bo would need to work very hard to fix this, and a lot of time and patience for things to truly go back to normal.
“Still love me, right?” he insisted because you hadn’t answered when he had first asked you. He slightly moved from you to observe you, eagerly waiting for those three little words to resume his kisses and lovingly caresses. You nodded.
“Of course, I love you” you said and the man instantly smiled and went back to loving on you.
It was then it hit you: you might have married a very dangerous man who could so easily kill you, he was a lost puppy without you.
“Hey, Bo” you said and he looked up at you. “I don’t want you to take care of the women anymore.” you told him
“Anythin’ you wanna” he nodded
“And if you ever hurt me again… I’ll make sure, you’ll never have me again either” you promised him and he frowned without understanding
“What?” he softly asked
“Married 'till the end, you said, and you’re not the only one who can kill me. I can too” you explained and his eyes widened
“Y/N” he whined “Don’t say such things” he whimpered, knowing he wouldn’t last more than a few hours without you in his life. And he couldn’t fight Death. 
His lips found yours again, hoping to make you stop saying such horrible words and promises. He wouldn’t let anything happen to his wife. He would rather die.
However Bo never forgot those words.
Like you never tried to run away from him anymore.
--
Taglist: @murder-hobo - @lacychick ; @magical-sass ; @limehaspassed ; @loveinglymessedup ; @bloodmoon-bites ; @iwantsleepplz ; @kawaistrawberry21
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marvelobsessed134 · 6 months
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Smut of current Nikki sixx
The reader is his wife they are at dinner with Tommy Vince and their wives
Nikki can't keep his hands to himself pleasuring reader under the table with his fingers
As everyone is in conversation with each other Nikki and reader sneak off to the bathroom Nikki works his magic with his tongue and and bends reader over 🍆
Then walk of shame from the bathroom as Tommy and Vince start laughing and say you guys couldn't wait jump each others bones 🧡
Kinktober day 11: public sex
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A/n: fuckin love Nikki it’s been awhile since I’ve written for him.
Pairings: Current!Nikki Sixx x Fem!Reader
Warnings: age gap, public sexual acts obvi, daddy kink because yes, Nikki is so damn horny for reader lol, dom!nikki, sub!reader, the other guys and wives poke fun at y’all, Tommy being Tommy and cheesy puns lol.
I’ve given up on summaries lol
You were sat at the dinner table after one of Mötleys shows for the world tour. Right now you’re in Mexico City, enjoying some good Mexican cuisine.
You felt Nikki’s hand trail up your leg towards your pussy and you froze for a minute, making sure everyone was distracted before you hissed, “What the hell are you doing?”
Your husband just laughed quietly and put a finger over his lips, silently telling you to be quiet. “Be a good girl for daddy ok?” He whispered in your ear causing you to shiver and goosebumps arise.
“O-ok.” You responded, and then Rain started talking to you. While yes, you are the youngest of the wives, you still get along great with them. So you tried your best to pay attention to your friends words when you felt the bassist move your panties out of the way and stick a finger into your tight hole.
“Mhmmm….yeah.” You said absentmindedly. Brittany chimed in, “Y/n? Girl, you ok?”
Your eyes widened when he rubbed his finger over your clit. That evil bastard he knows you can barely function when he does that.
“Oh-“ you cleared your throat, “I mean yeah I’m fine. I just don’t know if I’m gonna be able to eat anything my stomachs been upset.”
“Aw honey, do you feel like you’re gonna throw up?” Nikki asked with a facial expression telling you to say yes.
“Yeah. I think I should go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back.” You replied quickly and felt the older man’s finger slide out of you. You quickly got up and sped walked to the bathroom.
“Im gonna go check on her. Make sure she’s ok.” Your husband said before too got up and headed towards the bathroom.
“Dude…Nikki’s gonna get some!” Tommy cheered loudly and people looked at him with furrowed brows. Brittany smacked him on the arm, “No shit, don’t need to say it to the world. But yes they’re totally fucking.”
Nikki backed you up against the locked door of the singular restroom and unzipped your dress before tugging it down. Your breasts flopping out of the satin material.
“Fuck, I’m so lucky.” The bassist muttered before attaching his mouth to one of your nipples. You moaned and gasped as he nipped and bit the sensitive skin.
“Mmm, love these tits.” He muttered against you, switching sides to give the other side attention.
You threaded your fingers through his hair as you it relished in the feeling. “Fuck, daddy.”
His hand trailed back down to your clothed covered pussy and tugged your underwear down. His fingers inserted into you and you moaned. “Oh daddy, please!” You weren’t sure what you were begging for. “Yeah baby?” He teased, whispering right in your ear before nipping at your earlobe.
You sighed contently at that, “I want- I want your cock.”
“Oh yeah? You want daddys cock? I’ll give you my cock.” Nikki pulled his pants down enough so that his cock sprang out. He picked you up and you spread your legs instinctively. The raven haired man teased your entrance with his tip before inserting into you, feeling your walls clench around him.
“Holy fuck.” He breathed.
“Nikki- please move. Fuck me please.”
“Don’t worry sweetheart I will.” And he started bucking his hips into you. You moaned as he constantly hit your spot.
You clutched on his shoulders harder, nails digging into the material of his shirt. “Mmm…daddy oh my god.” You cried out as he went harder and faster.
“Quiet, we don’t want anyone out there knowing you’re being fucked like a slut now do we?” He covered your mouth as he said this and you nodded, eyes wide and watering.
Finally, you felt yourself get closer and closer to the edge before clenching around his cock your vision going white for a second as that beautifully overwhelming feeling shot through your whole body.
“Mmm- mph-“ your moans and cries were muffled by his hand, and soon enough you felt him shoot his load deep inside of you.
“Oh!” You breathed in relief.
Nikki planted a sweet kiss to your lips, “So good for me.”
The two of you got cleaned up and walked back to the table like nothing happened.
Of course, Tommy couldn’t keep his mouth shut. “Y/n, are you feeling better?”
Your face went red for a bit before saying, “Yeah. It was just a little stomach bug.”
“Yeah, I’m sure it hit you hard.”
Oh god, Tommy knew. And if Tommy knew, everyone knew.
“Yeah, and Nikki came right after you.” Vince chimed in and Rain kicked him under the table. “Vinnie, not appropriate. She’s clearly embarrassed that we all know they had sex in the bathroom.”
“Oh god.” You said as you buried your face in your hands. The bassist rubbed your back soothingly, “Alright we get it. Everyone knows we fucked. Now let’s eat and forget this never happened. Tommy, say something again and I will kick your ass.”
“Yes sir.” The drummer responded with a mocking salute making everyone laugh.
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sydsaint · 3 months
Text
I'm a slut for a cocky blond man. <3
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Summary: The reader encounters Logan's charisma firsthand when he attempt to get a meeting with Nick Aldis.
"You know I bet that you're used to flashing that pretty-boy smile and for people to just start falling over you, huh?" You stare across your desk at Logan Paul.
"Well I mean, it is a nice killer smile," Logan replies with a grin. "And don't kid yourself, YN. I can tell it's getting to you." He winks at you.
You scoff and roll your eyes at the current US champ. Logan came strolling into the office around 10 minutes ago wanting to talk to your boss, Nick, about something or other. The only problem is, that Aldis is on an important call and asked not to be disturbed.
"You can keep giving me those puppy dog eyes all you want, Logan." You remain firm on not letting Logan through the door. "But it's not going to work on me. Nick will be done with his call soon. You can wait like everyone else." You insist.
"Oh but I'm not like everyone else, am I sweetheart?" Logan replies. "I'm the best US Champion of this era. Not to mention the co-owner of the premier energy drink company, Prime. And an accomplished social media star." He rattles off his accomplishments with a grin. "Plus, I'm handsome."
You scoff and roll your eyes. "Full of yourself is more like it." You clap back at him. "You can be as famous as Vince McMahon himself, Logan. And I still wouldn't let you through the door." You flash him a smile.
"Come on, YN!" Logan whines. "What's it going to take for you to let me in to see Aldis?" He asks you.
"How about an appointment?" You reply with a grin. "Or maybe perhaps, Nick coming out of his office to greet you?" You taunt him.
Logan bites the inside of his lip. It's not every day he runs into someone that can keep up with his nagging and persistence with such bravado. Especially not someone as gorgeous as you.
"Hey, did I see you drinking a Prime when I came in earlier?" Logan asks you. "A Cherry Freeze, right?" He scans your desk for the bottle.
"I might have been, yeah." You keep your answer vague. "Why?" You quirk a brow at the blond.
Logan sits down at the chair in front of your desk and takes his phone out. "You're obviously a fan if you're drinking one." He points out. "So you should let me put you on our PR list. It'll get you monthly shipments of whatever your favorite flavor is. Plus you get first access when new flavors drop." He explains.
You sigh and hold back the smile daring to grace your lips. You know that Logan is just buttering you up to get what he wants. But being on the Prime PR list sounds like a dream come true considering how much you drink the stuff.
"Alright." You sigh and pull out your phone to give Logan the information he needs to add you to the list. "This still doesn't mean that you're getting in to see Nick." You add.
"I know." Logan surprisingly nods. "I guess I can wait a little bit. The view in here is pretty nice."
You look up from your phone at Logan's comment about the view. "Really?" You laugh. "You've resorted to hitting on me?" You chastise him.
"What can I say?" Logan shrugs. "It's not every day I meet a girl as quick-witted and pretty as you are, YN." He winks at you.
"Mhm." You hum and shake your head.
The phone on your desk rings and you answer it. Logan watches you intently as you listen to the brief call before hanging the phone up.
"Mr. Aldis will see you now." You hang up the phone and gestured to the door off to the side of the room.
"He can wait for a second," Logan replies with a sly grin. "I've got something more important going on right now." He insists.
You can't help but laugh. "Oh, yeah? After all that whining? What could be so important?" You ask him.
"Getting you to go out with me," Logan replies. "So, wadduya say, YN? Dinner? My treat?" He asks you.
You gaze at the egomaniac in front of you. 'Damn, he's good.' You think to yourself. But Logan flashes you those soft puppy dog eyes from earlier and you know that you can't turn him down.
"Sure, why not?" You accept the offer. "You've got my number. Now go see Nick before he changes his mind." You gesture to the door.
"Yes!" Logan cheers with a grin. "Just you wait, YN. You've never had a stellar night out until you've rolled with me, sweetheart."
You giggle as Logan struts off to his meeting. "I'm sure." You watch him walk off.
You already know that you're about to be in for one hell of a first date. That's a given. Now you just have to get through the rest of the work night.
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bellysoupset · 29 days
Text
Vince sick with the flu at Wendy's birthday
Vince knew he was bound to catch the bug after being so terribly exposed, he had just been counting on the fact he had gotten the stomach flu back in the end of January and hoping this meant he was immune.
No such luck.
Not only he had definitely caught the bug, judging by how upset and gurgly his belly felt, but he had caught it on Wendy's birthday. He wanted to cry.
"Are you alright?" His father asked, looking up from the dishes he was doing when Vince groaned, tugging at the roots of his hair.
"I think I caught the stomach bug that's going around the school," he answered and Giuseppe frowned, drying his hands on the dishcloth and walking closer.
His palm was cold against Vince's forehead, all soft thanks to age, "you're a little warm, piccolino," he hadn't called Vin that since his son had outgrown him.
"That's just great," Vince sighed, leaning slightly on his dad's touch. He wanted nothing more than to go upstairs and crawl up into his childhood bed, let his family fuss over him, but instead he had to hit the road. There was no way he was going to miss Wen's birthday.
They had already talked the night before, video called at midnight so he could wish her happy birthday, and texted in the morning, Wendy sending excited updates about everything.
Her parents had sent her a huge breakfast basket with flowers and she had gotten a bunch of chocolate from patients, which Wendy was over the moon about as it was her first time getting gits from patients.
She was going to have lunch with Bella, Jonah, Barbie and Megan and then the party was going to be at night, at a rooftop and Vince knew for a fact that Jon had gotten fireworks for her as a surprise.
"I have to get going," Vin forced himself to pull back and stand up. As soon as he stood up, he felt all sorts of woozy, so Vin grabbed the wall behind him and breathed through his mouth until the slight vertigo faded away.
Giuseppe's silver eyebrows were up, blue eyes scanning him, "you're planning on driving like this? No, you're not."
"Babbo, I can't not go," Vince sighed, "I'm gonna drive slow, I promise. And text you as soon as I get there."
His father didn't look one bit pleased, "at least take some medicine before you go..." he mumbled, looking nervous about the prospect.
Although the old man looked fearful, he did let Vin go, without telling Ma about the fact he was sick, something Vince was very grateful for. There was no way his mother was going to be this cool about him getting in the motorcycle when feeling that woozy.
By the time Vince entered the big city, he was freezing. It was only partially due to the fever, it was the last day of February, so it wasn't exactly warm to begin with.
He had the key to Wen's apartment and she, thankfully, still wasn't home, so Vince headed straight to the bathroom. His reflection was a sight, his skin had gone from its usual light olive tone straight into green territory, all pale and with dark circles around his eyes. His lips were devoid of color and his hair had flattened down around his head, clinging to his clammy skin.
"Looking handsome," Vince grumbled, planting his hands on the sink and taking a steadying breath as his stomach gurgled uncomfortably. The nausea was taking its sweet pace building and currently he was covered in goosebumps, his mouth feeling sticky and sweet.
Vin stumbled into the shower area and turned up the hot water, hoping to wash away the look of sickness. He had very little energy, so he just stood under the stream, letting the water do most of the work.
He washed his hair and then gagged when the scent of conditioner hit his nose, making him rush to wash it off. It was to no avail, and Vince leaned over the drain, retching softly until a thin stream of watery puke came up.
It brought no relief whatsoever, but his stomach's muscles relaxed, leaving him still just as nauseated and unable to barf. Vince groaned, washing away the evidence and his face all over again.
Once he stepped out of the bathroom, with Wen's large lilac towel wrapped around his waist, Vince opened a smile as he saw Wen had left an outfit picked out on top of the bed.
He put on the boxers and the social pants and was sitting on the edge of the bed, struggling to tie his social shoes since the position squeezed his tummy, when Wendy opened the bedroom door.
"Oh hi..." she sounded all breathless and Vince didn't have to force a smile. His girlfriend stood at the doorway of her bedroom, with her hair in rollers and a pink robe.
"Hi birthday girl," Vince grinned, "c'mere-" he got up to kiss her and Wendy's whole face turned pink as she promptly wrapped her arms around his neck, getting on her tippy toes.
They stumbled back inside the bedroom and Vince bit down a groan as he felt Wendy climb his lap, still kissing him fiercely. He moved his face, planting a kiss on her neck and squeezing her on a hug.
"I missed you," Vince whispered, planting a kiss on her shoulder, pushing her robe out of the way, "I missed you so much."
Wendy let out a pleased sigh, pulling back and running her fingers through his humid hair, "I missed you too," she pressed her forehead to his, "I almost wish we could just stay in bed."
Vince snorted at that, patting her ass so she'd get off his lap, "no, you don't, you'd never miss your own party."
She blushed as he read her so easily, then climbed off of him, "I'm just gonna take a quick shower, can't get the hair wet. Are you almost done?"
Almost, he just really needed to throw up first, Vince thought, but kept his happy smile on.
"Yeah, pretty much. Take your time, though," he kissed her temple and swatted her ass, "I'm gonna go get your gift."
"My gift?" Wendy's voice went up at least two notes as she smiled and Vince rolled his eyes.
"Yeah, your gift," he steered her to the bathroom, "c'mon, you don't wanna be late."
He had left Wendy's gift in his backpack and Vince went to the living room to retrieve it, while buttoning up his shirt. She had picked a deep red button up, her favorite color on him.
Vince sat on the couch as he heard the shower running, allowing his mask to slip and wrapping an arm around his stomach. Even though he had left his belt quite lose and not yet tucked in the shirt, he already felt like he was being squeezed by it all.
His intestines were gurgling something fierce and when Vin pressed on his warm, sensitive belly, he felt a burp sneak up his throat. Airy and with no sound, but turning wet at the end. Vin snapped his mouth shut, swallowing back the urge to gag.
He felt another shudder run up his spine and Vince pressed his eyes closed, valiantly fighting a cramp- Then he heard the bathroom door open and immediately pulled himself together, pushing everything out of his mind and getting up.
Wendy was already in her shapewear, pulling out a deep magenta dress from her closet. She had removed her hair from the rollers and they fell around her heart shaped face like old Hollywood waves.
"You look great," Vince smiled, leaning against the bedroom's doorway, "you look gorgeous."
Wendy opened a big smile, then she caught a glimpse of the simple black box in his hands and raised her eyebrows, "what is it?"
"Turn around," Vince stepped closer, holding the large square box. He was quite nervous about it, actually. It hadn't been cheap, but it was nowhere near what a girl like her was used to. He knew Wendy was the Harry Winston and Cartier sort, so he was really nervous about buying her jewelry.
Vince put the necklace around her neck and planted a kiss on top of her head as she looked at her reflection in the closet mirror, "what do you think?"
It was a simple white gold necklace, with a flower pendant made of four rubies and the center a topaz.
Wendy didn't say a thing, leaning in to inspect it and Vince cringed, feeling a whole new layer of nausea wash over him.
"I know it's no Tiffany's or whatever, but-"
"I love it," she interrupted him, glaring at him in the mirror, "it's stunning."
Vince's cheeks burned and he fidgeted uncomfortably, as Wendy smoothed the necklace against her collarbones and opened a pleased smile.
"I really love it, Vin," she turned around to hug him by the waist and tilted her head back, opening a blinding smile, "thank you."
"You're not just saying that? Because its from a local jewelry shop, so you can definitely exchang-"
"I love it," she shook her head, squeezing him, "and it matches my dress."
Vince let out a scoff, biting down a burp as Wendy's head pressed to his upset stomach. He gulped down, keeping a hand in the middle of her naked back and breathing through the queasiness.
There was no way he was going to make it through the night without puking, Vin thought, as Wendy moved in his arms and planted a kiss to his tummy, pulling back.
"I'm just gonna do my make up and we can go," she said happily, putting on her heels and Vince forced a smile.
"Alright, I'm gonna wait in the living room."
The party was in the same rooftop Vince remembered being for Jonah's birthday, when Wendy had gotten sick due to a migraine. It was ironic she had picked it, given how horrible he was feeling.
Vince was practically wincing as Wendy intertwined their fingers together and pulled him as she checked with the staff everything was alright.
He was bouncing a leg nervously up and down and Wen let out a chuckle as she noticed that, "it's just our friends," she misinterpreted his nervousness, grabbing a champagne flute and pushing it in his hands, "you have nothing to be nervous about."
Vince offered her a strained smile, but that wasn't exactly true. Wendy was a social butterfly and he knew for a fact it was not a party just for Jonah, Luke, Bell and Leo. Half the hospital would be there, as well as all the girls she knew from yoga and from other courses. Barbie, Megan, whom Vince had met before, but they still made him nervous. Other people he had no idea how Wendy got acquainted with.
He wanted to die as the place started to fill up and his head continued to swim. Vince couldn't pay attention to anything that was being said, but thankfully his participation in small talk was all but optional.
He was feeling clammy all over as the little canapes started to circulate on top of trays.
Wendy squeezed his arm, "are you hungry?" she tilted her head to look at him and Vin promptly shook his head, almost stumbling back as it made the room spin.
Just the mere thought of putting anything in his stomach made more sickness splash up and he gulped down, "No-" his voice came out all hoarse and Vince cleared his throat, "no, I'm just warm. I'm gonna go outside for some air, okay?"
Wendy pouted slightly, "are you alright...?"
"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Vince squeezed her hand in his, "talk with your friends, I'm just gonna get some air and I'll be back," he promised and she opened a bright smile, turning around and squealing as she caught sight of Jonah entering the room.
Vince turned around and bolted.
It was not lost on him that once upon a time he had found Wendy hunched over the same rail. He pressed his tummy to the iron rail and forced up a sick burp, but nothing came up with it.
Vince groaned, squeezing the metal and feeling like he was about to collapse. His legs were shaking and he couldn't stop swallowing down, his mouth pooling with saliva.
Another burp snuck up on him and Vin whimpered, feeling his eyes sting. He hated this, he wanted to be having fun with Wendy, not almost ruining her party.
A hand came to rest on his back and Vince shuddered, knowing who it was without even looking back, "fucking kill me, Luke."
"What's wrong?" Luke's voice was impossibly soft and Vince tipped to the side, leaning against his best friend's chest. He was freezing, he wanted all warmth he could get.
"Stomach flu..." Vince groaned as his stomach flipped again, "gonna be sick..."
"Okay, think you can make it inside? To the bathroom?" Luke squeezed his nape, rolling his thumb in a comforting manner. Vin took in a deep breath.
"Don't-" he gulped down as a gag interrupted him, "don't want Wendy to see me-"
"Buddy, the chances of her seeing you here are way higher," Luke squeezed him a little tighter, "lean on me, okay? We're gonna speed walk."
"M'kay," Vince slumped almost completely and heard Lucas let out a little huff at his weight, but he didn't let go. He was so dizzy, he didn't actually see a thing as they moved back inside the restaurant area, only heard the noise escalate and then get low once more, as Luke pushed him inside the bathroom.
Vince stumbled, bracing against the sink and Lucas let out a sigh, "c'mere," he wrapped an arm around Vin's chest, steering him towards the toilet and Vince immediately fell to his knees, leaning over the bowl and panting.
His stomach hurt with how much it was churning and finally he let out a weak gag and felt everything he had eaten since morning rush up his throat.
Vince groaned as the sheer amount seemed to suffocate him, coughing and groaning as it stung his nose. He spat in the bowl, blindly reaching to flush it, but his arms were too shaky and that almost caused his chin to hit the porcelain, wasn't it for Luke wrapping an arm around his chest.
"I got you, I got you," Lucas reassured him, before flushing the toilet, "done?"
"Nu-uh," Vince gagged, spitting once again. He had never felt so nauseous in his life, what the hell was this bug?
"Jesus, dude..." Luke groaned when Vince let out another gurgly burp, which quickly morphed into a violent heave and even more puke rushed up and splattered in the bowl.
Lucas moved so he was crouching practically next to him, planting a hand on Vince's forehead and keeping him from taking a dive in the toilet as the heaves continued to rock him. He cringed as he could feel the crazy heat under his palm, it was shocking Vince had been able to play off as healthy for so long with a fever like this.
"Okay, okay, big breath," Luke rubbed his back as Vin let out a whimper and swayed on the spot, bracing against the stall wall and causing the entire thich plastic structure that separated the cubicles to tremble.
"Fuck," Vince breathed out, squeezing his eyes and massaging his chest. His hands were trembling and tears had run down his cheek, he also looked terribly pale, "this isn't a stomach bug, it's some plague."
"It looks like it, yeah," Lucas flushed the toilet again, grabbing a bunch of toilet paper and passing it to Vince, "you good?"
"For now..." Vince wiped his mouth, blowing his nose, "but my stomach is still churning and I feel like I'm gonna shit my pants."
Luke wrinkled his nose in distaste, getting up from the floor, "you need to go home-"
"I can't go to Wendy's, it's her birthday," Vince whined, "I'm not gonna ruin her night-"
"No, you're coming to my place," Luke rolled his eyes, "can you just sit there and not die? I'm gonna let Bell know-"
"Oh god, Bella-" Vince groaned, curling up as much as he could in the small space and Lucas let out a sigh.
"Just don't die, alright? I'll see if she can go home with Wen and you come with me- Don't die," then he turned around and ran out of the bathroom.
Vince sighed, leaning his head back against the hard plastic and trying to find any strength to get up and wash his face. He hated himself for going anywhere close Daniels last week.
There was a gurgle through his stomach and Vince squeezed his belly, breaking in cold sweat. He let out a sickly little burp, getting on all fours and struggling force himself up, swaying so much he nearly smashed his head against the stall wall.
Vince fell down on the toilet, tugging on his social pants and clumsily reaching for the door and locking it, before managing to push down his pants just in time for the runs to hit him.
He wrapped both arms around his tummy, pressing his eyes closed and sniffling pitifully. The cramps were killing him and to make matters worse he was starting to feel nauseous all over again, the curled up position forcing up sickly little burps.
Vince gulped down, breathing slowly through his mouth as the woozy sensation only seemed to get worse. Then there was a knock on the door and his head snapped up, colorful little spots dancing on the corner of his sight.
"Occupied!"
"Vin, it's me," Luke said and he could've cried. In fact, judging by the way his throat was hurting and he could feel his eyes burning, he was pretty sure he was.
"Gimme- Give me a minute..." he groaned, "just wait."
"Okay, yeah, no problem," Lucas said hurriedly and Vince assumed he probably could hear the pleading in his voice, since he didn't fight him.
Vince wiped the cold sweat from his brow once again, taking slow measured breaths as he cleaned up and then got out of the stall, stumbling to the sink in order to wash his hands and his face.
He looked dreadful. Vince made a little pray that Wendy was across the rooftop and didn't get a glimpse at him, because he looked pretty close to a corpse.
He dried the cold water from his face, before all but collapsing against the bathroom's main door, pressing his forehead to it, "Luke."
"Yeah?" Lucas' voice was very clear, as if he was glued to the door and Vince thanked his stars for that.
"I think I'm gonna faint..." his lips felt numb, this wasn't good. The second the weak words made out of his mouth, the door opened. Just in time, because Vince's knees buckled and Luca caught him by the armpits, letting out a grunt as he almost went down with Vin.
"Christ, Vin-" Luke's hand pushed his hair back, patting his cheek, "hey man, I need you to help me here or I'm gonna drag your ass to the hospital."
Vince shook his head, angrily forcing his eyes open and trying to think through the fog, "Wendy-"
He jumped as there was a loud noise, followed by squeals, just outside the private hallway that led to the bathrooms. Luke stiffened his hold around him, only to let out a nervous chuckle.
"It's Jon's fireworks. We should go."
"Uhmm," Vince nodded, grabbing on Luke's arm, "I'm gonna hurl on you."
"I know," Lucas forced him up, voice all strained, "but outside of here, deal?"
"Deal," Vince almost chuckled, pressing his feverish forehead to Luke's shoulder and allowing him to rush them out of the fancy restaurant.
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ladykailitha · 7 months
Text
Grief (A Friend Indeed) Part 4
Hey, guys! This story is coming along at quite the clip. I have part 5 already done. I have the specific plot beats mapped out and you are in for a wild ride.
Enjoy more Lauren being awesome, Steve being a history buff, and liking alt rock. A bit of tw for allusion to cancer. It's where Penny and Wayne talk so if you want to skip it just know that Penny isn't acting herself in this chapter and is handling the grief badly.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
***
Lauren tapped her lip thoughtfully. “I suppose I’ll grant you Robin being better than me on the sheer fact that she’s your soulmate. But it was this close.” She held her finger and thumb so close together they were almost touching.
“Platonic,” Steve assured her. Lauren raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m not her type,” he added with a shrug.
“That’s fair,” she said. “I hate it when people assume that just because you’re opposite genders that you have to be romantically linked.”
Steve nodded. “As if other types of love don’t exist.”
Eddie winced. Steve caught his eye and blushed.
“I mean you can love friends and family, that’s not romantic, right?”
When no one answered, he continued. “Like one of the kids I used to babysit, Dustin. The one that built the CV tower. God I love that kid like my little brother. But I’m not attracted to him for fuck’s sake. All I’m saying is love is more then just romantic. Hell, the Greeks had a half of a dozen or so types of love.”
Eddie leaned forward interested. “Yeah, like what?”
“There’s love for the gods, love for your brothers in arms, love for your family, romantic love, and sexual love,” Steve said, naming them and counting his fingers. “I think there are more than that, but I don’t really remember.”
Oliver frowned at Steve. “Aren’t romantic love and sex the same thing?”
Steve shrugged. “You’d have to ask them, I don’t know. But I never thought so. You don’t have to be in love to have sex and you don’t have to sex with a romantic partner.”
Lauren launched into music and her tastes to quickly change the subject as Penny was starting to frown about the sex talk.
Eddie started talking to Gale about how she liked school now that she had finished kindergarten and resurfaced to Lauren and Steve’s conversation a few minutes later.
“You can’t honestly believe that Speak & Spell is the superior album,” Steve groused. “It had one hit on it and I wouldn’t even call it that.”
“I just think the band lost a little something when Vince Clarke left is all,” Lauren murmured.
Oliver sidled up to Eddie and nudged him with his elbow. “Do you know what they are talking about?”
Eddie just shook his head, enthralled. He had seen Steve passionate about sports before but this was new.
“Some Great Reward has some of the best songs on it,” Steve continued, unaware he was being watched. “God, I remember the first I heard ‘Lie to Me’, it was like someone understood me for the first time in my life.”
Lauren snorted. “You just used that one because it was the one that would raise the least amount of eyebrows.”
Steve laughed. “Maybe a little, but I was serious about that song. I must have listened to it a dozens of times my senior year of high school. But yeah, I really connected with that album.”
She hummed. She had a feeling it had to do with that girlfriend he brought up earlier, but she would wait until there weren’t so many prying eyes and listening ears.
“I’ll give you Depeche Mode,” she said. “But please tell you don’t like Tears for Fears, please...”
Eddie barked out a laugh. “Stevie boy here has both of their albums.”
Steve just shrugged. “I’m not about to feel shame for liking a good band.”
Lauren opened her mouth to argue when her mother interrupted.
“Steve, Eddie?” Penny called out. “You will have to be sharing a room.”
Eddie’s eyes went wide as if he hadn’t considered that.
“It’s okay, ma’am,” Steve said with his most charming smile. “We’ve shared a room a couple times before, we’ll be fine.”
Eddie nearly choked on his own spit. While that was true, he didn’t think it was a wise thing to say in crowd of strangers.
Penny blinked at him. “Excuse me? You’ve shared a room with Eddie before?”
Steve batted his eyelashes at her innocently. “Sure. Often times when playing their D&D game it’ll go late in the night and they’ll end up sleeping over. My house has a lot of rooms, but not that many. So we’ll often double or triple up in a room.”
Gale looked up from her toys she was playing with on the floor. “Just how many rooms do you have?”
Penny shushed her. “We don’t talk about that sort of thing in mixed company!”
“In addition to my parents room and mine,” Steve said steadfastly ignoring her, “three other bedrooms, plus another room in the basement that could be converted into a guest room in a pinch if I had to.”
Penny turned purple. “That’s enough of that talk.”
Wayne stepped in before his sister threw hands with one of his boys. And yes, Steve was his. He just didn’t know it yet.
“It’s not a sin to talk about money,” he said. “Not talking about money is how those in power stay in power. It’s why I’m in a union at the plant. Steve can’t help where he’s from anymore than you can. The size of his house isn’t going to change just because you don’t want to hear it.”
Penny’s jaw dropped. She looked around at her children and then ducked her head. She got up and headed for the kitchen. Lauren got up to follow, but Wayne held up his hand and shook his head.
“I’ll deal with her.”
Eddie stood there with pursed lips trying not smile. But it was hard. Wayne rarely stood up to Penny because he had known for years that she was Grandma’s favorite and her kids were treated like royalty. Not like him and Wayne and in his early years, Al.
His grandma was a sweet old lady who loved him, but he knew that Penny and her kids got preferential treatment because they lived close. It was hard not to be at least a little bitter about that.
“Go Uncle Wayne,” Lauren said with a low whistle. “Classism goes both ways and Grandma would have had a fit if she had seen how Mom acted today.”
Eddie let his smile break through. “Who’s up for some cribbage?” he asked pulling a deck of cards out of his leather jacket pocket.
All three of the Nelson sibling bounced up and Gale ran to the hallway to grab a cribbage board. She pulled out four pegs and then looked at Steve.
He held up his hands. “I’ve never played before, so I’ll just watch.”
Eddie cocked his head to side. “You haven’t? Huh, I thought everyone knew how to play.”
Steve just shook his head.
“Tell you what,” Eddie said, sitting down around the coffee table. “We’ll play a couple rounds of cribbage and then we’ll play something you know how to play.”
“Do you guys know rummy?” Steve asked wiping his hands on his front of his jeans.
“Yeah,” Lauren said with a grin. “That’s a fun one. We’ll play that one next.”
The other kids nodded and Steve settled into to watch the weirdest card game imaginable played on a wooden board with little plastic pegs like rejects from the Life game.
*
Penny rounded on Wayne but the seeing the look on his face caused whatever argument she had to shrivel up behind her teeth. Her shoulders slumped and she ran her hands over her face.
“Fuck, Wayne,” she murmured. “I’m sorry. I just have all this rage inside. She could have tried to beat it. There were medicines and things she could have taken to give us a little bit more time with her and she just didn’t… take it.”
Wayne wrapped her in his arms and held her.
“And we almost had two funerals this year,” she continued into his shoulder, “and I’m just on my last raw nerve.”
Wayne nodded. It was touch and go for Eddie those first three days in the hospital and every was waiting on baited breath to see if he would come out on the other side.
Hell, his favorite moment that week was Eddie’s surgeon staring Sheriff Powell in the face and telling him under no uncertain terms was he allowed anywhere near her patient until she was sure he was going to live. And then by the time Eddie was out of the woods, the government had pinned the murders on someone else.
Eddie stayed under for another couple of weeks so he never got to see how bad ass his surgeon was. But Wayne did, Steve did and they were both very grateful.
“I know, Penny,” he murmured, holding her close. “It’s been such a rough year for us Munsons. How’s Danny handling it?”
Penny snorted. “You’d think it was his mama that died, not mine with all the wailing and carrying on he’s doing.”
Wayne laughed. “Sounds like our Danny.”
Danny and Penny were Hawkins High sweethearts that moved to Ashland to be closer to Penny’s mom when she slipped and fell.
“He’ll be home from work in an hour or so,” Penny said. “You wanna help me make dinner?”
“Whacha making?”
“Just chicken and rice,” she said, pulling things out of the fridge and cupboards.
“Sure.”
*
Steve tallied up the points from their five games of rummy and then threw the pen down.
“Fucking hell!” he hissed. “You’d think I’d be used to getting skunked by fifteen year olds.”
Eddie laughed. “Nah, I’m pretty sure Oliver just cheated.”
The teenager was on his feet in an instant. “I didn’t!”
Lauren put her hand on his arm. “They’re teasing you. Chill.”
Oliver sat back down.
Then the door opened and a man stepped inside. He had curly red hair, a barreled chest, and an easy smile. This was obviously Danny Nelson.
He spotted Steve right off and made a beeline for him. “You must be Steve, Eddie’s told us all about you.”
Steve stood up and shook his hand. “Thanks for having me so last minute.”
“I’m just glad Eddie’s got someone looking out for him,” Danny said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I can smell my wife’s delicious cooking.”
Steve nodded.
Soon they were all called for dinner and Steve was seated between Eddie and Lauren.
He could tell that whatever Wayne and Penny had talked about had sorted her out and she seemed a lot less hostile. But that could have also been the calming presence of her husband, Danny. He had tucked her into his side as they ate, and she leaned into his touch.
It made him grieve the lost of what his family could have been if his grandmother hadn’t died.
Maybe they still would have fallen apart, but maybe they would have been like this.
But he also knew that he had to be grateful for that money not because of the things he had gotten, but because it gave him the chance to find his own family in the monster-hunting party that were his friends.
***
Pt 5|Pt 6|Pt 7|Pt 8|Pt 9|Pt 10|Pt 11|Pt 12
And that's how my husband's family introduced me to cribbage too. It is sooo hard to follow.
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