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#again it doesn't matter if you think he was right for the guard or not my point is that aveline had no right to block him
not-goldy · 2 days
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IA with your two cents post. I felt the same when Suga & Jk were talking & downplayed it as if Jm flew to NY to be with Jk for a drink & had to mention Jm called him. I don't think Jk was prepared for Suga to bring it up & did his best to address it since it was also a private vacation & knows how guarded Jm's become about their relationship & would ring his neck. I just find it funny cause Jk knew, we knew he was begging for alone time with Jm & instead of saying how special it was Jm came to be with him during his solo debut release week, he diverted. Dude, it's not that serious that a bandmate came to see you, so why you making excuses instead of saying you're happy & grateful he came, instead? Unless.
Controversial opinion, but I also feel at times members can be a hindrance more than protectors when it comes to Jikook's relationship esp when they intervene, downplay things on Jikook's behalf or when it comes to their own ships they also like to play into. Like Suga's comment about Yoonmin's reputation to Jimin, knowing Jimin said he doesn't like fanservice & has a man. Tae with both Jikook, more so Jk & Jk does let it happen & even does his own share, while Jimin tends to stick with his boundaries. I'm sure they feel since they're family, its no harm. It does harm tho, cause no matter how unbothered Jikook are, at the end of the day they can't defend their relationship when haters get out of control, even if they wanted too. Like Tae reposting that Tk account which turned out to be a creepy, delusional Jikook hater. It got Jk & Jm dragged when they had nothing to do with it. Jikook don't have the privilege of being able to go out & walk holding hands in Paris, to publicly defend their relationship/partner & members know that. Then again Jikook downplay their relationship. Which they're allowed, but sadly its used against them. As frustrating as it tho, Jikook seems fine with it. Keyword "seems". I accept it, but I can't help but still feel sorry for them when they get caught in the crossfire, you know. * SIGH *
Sighing right with you
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Okay I thought I was done but apparently I'm not. I need to talk more about this banter you can get during the Legacy DLC between Aveline and Warden Carver because it makes me want to scream.
Aveline: I'm glad you found a place with the Wardens. Carver: Well, it's not the city guard, but it'll do. Aveline: Carver... it wasn't the place for you. Carver: No, it's all right. It is. It cost a lot, but I get it. I really was a bit of a tit those days, wasn't I? Aveline: Well...
In my last post, I talked about how Aveline had no place telling the guard to refuse Carver's application, regardless of if he was "right" for the job or not. But I believe he would've made a great guard, and getting that job not only would've provided for him and his family during a desperate time, but would've prevented him from either fate of becoming a warden or a templar. He was unfairly robbed of a chance to prove himself because Aveline believed he wasn't right for the guard.
This is one of the banters I brought up but didn't go too in depth about. At this point, it's been between 3-6 years since Act 1, depending on if you decided to do Legacy in Act 2 or Act 3, and every line here is important.
Carver's response to Aveline saying she's glad he "found a place" with the wardens is so telling. Not being accepted by the guard is still on his mind after all this time. He wouldn't bring it up if it didn't still bother him, and implies that he still would've preferred the guard over the wardens.
Which... yeah. Listen, I'm a dedicated "Carver joins the Grey Warden" player. I don't like leaving him behind to become a templar, and I certainly don't like him dying. For me, the Grey Wardens are the best outcome he has. It’s where he seems the happiest and finds the most fulfilment, and it fits well with how I play my Hawke. But it obviously has some tragic issues.
Like the fact that becoming a Grey Warden only delayed his inevitable death within the Deep Roads. Eventually his Calling will come, and Carver will go back down there and fight until the darkspawn eventually kill him. I'm sure that's not traumatic to think about given he was a soldier at Ostagar and then watched Bethany die at the hands of an ogre. Oh, and there's the whole nightmares and voices thing.
Carver didn't choose this life for himself. It was either this or death, but a "what if?" still lingers in his mind about the city guard.
Something Aveline ruined for him.
And continues to ruin.
Aveline: Carver... it wasn't the place for you.
You hear that? In the distance? That's me screaming.
I must reiterate; what makes Aveline believe it's her place to tell Carver whether or not the city guard was right for him? Why did she think she should get a say in whether or not the guard takes him? What's made it HER call?
And still, after all this time has passed, she believes it wasn't right for him and she's unwilling to consider otherwise. Maker forbid she do some reflection and question if she was in the right for interfering at all, too!
Carver is standing right there before her, proving everything she said about him wrong, and she just doubles down. There's no reason to say this to him unless she's trying to remind him of his place; he's a Grey Warden, and she's Guard-Captain of Kirkwall's city guard. But c'mon, Aveline, he's hardly a threat to your precious guard anymore given the whole dedication to killing darkspawn thing he has now.
Maybe if you paid more attention to the threats within your guard, Kirkwall would be a safer place with less murder going around? Just saying!
But isn't that how it's always been? Aveline putting him in his place, making sure Carver remembers she's always outranked him?
Carver: Did you approve my application? Aveline: I can't make you a guard, Carver. Carver: We were both soldiers. Why won't they take me? Aveline: I was an officer. And I follow orders. Carver: [laughs] No you don't. Aveline: I also think of others before myself. You seem tired of that, and that's dangerous. Carver: Just when it's not my choice. You told them not to take me, didn't you? Aveline: Yes.
That he should remember who he's talking to?
Carver: I'm surprised you still travel with us, Aveline. Aveline: Carver, don't. Carver: You're ever so busy with the guardsmen. It must be a burden to slum with the refugees. Aveline: It's oddly comforting that you insult me like I'm family. Carver: That wasn't... no, I didn't mean that. Aveline: I know. But you should be glad that's how I took it.
That she's in charge?
Aveline: Your form's sloppy, Carver. Stiffen up or the darkspawn will take your blade. Carver: Right. I'll keep that in mind. Aveline: And you're angry, why? Carver: You didn't fare any better than I did the last time we faced darkspawn. Aveline: If they take your blade, people die. That's not happening again. Stiffen up. Carver: Yes ma'am.
Oh, and she used to spy on him [and Hawke].
Aveline: I don't like some of the people you've been associating with, Carver. Carver: Talk to my brother/sister. He/She's the one in charge. Aveline:  Maybe, but I know you get around. This city's full of people who are dead set on ending badly. I don't want to see you end up the same way. Carver: Would asking you to stop spying on me help in the least? Aveline: No.
That's their banter.
But sure, she's glad he found a place in the wardens. I don't think she's being ingenuine when she says that, but I think it's a little more complicated than a mere "congrats on doing well, I knew you could do it."
But Carver's response? Oh Maker's ass. It actually hurts me.
Carver: No, it's all right. It is. It cost a lot, but I get it. I really was a bit of a tit those days, wasn't I? Aveline: Well...
I... what can I even say?
He accepts it, but you can tell it hurts to do so. It DID cost a lot. More than Aveline will ever understand. And it doesn't matter now! He can't become a guard now anyway, so what would be the point in him disagreeing with her? Carver acts as the bigger person here because he does get it, even if Aveline doesn't.
But it's that last part... that last damn part... Don't be alarmed, that screaming you hear is still me.
Here's the deal; Carver acknowledges that he could be an ass back in Act 1. Hell, he acknowledges it IN Act 1. For example, when you talk to him after finding your grandfather's will, he's an ass to you about Bethany no matter what you say.
But y'know what? You can be the biggest piece of shit to him and have Hawke literally call him a "lazy brat with a chip on his shoulder," and Carver will still be the one to be apologetic for what he said and attempt to explain his feelings.
"Brother/Sister... I feel... I don't know. It's like Mother taking things out on us. She was just scared. I don't have a place in the life she's trying to bring back…"
Carver can be an ass, but he's aware of that and actively tries to change his behavior. If you bring him and Fenris with you on the Mark of the Assassin DLC, there's a moment where Carver says, "You still don't like me? I've tried to change." And if you bring Varric, he once again acknowledges that he used to be an ass.
BUT... that being said. If you don't remember, "I really was a bit of a tit those days, wasn't I?" is referencing back to this conversation in the barracks of Act 1:
Hawke: This must be a very different pace from serving King Cailan. Aveline: It's just one more change, though. The real end for me was Ostagar. What about you Carver? You were there. Do you feel something similar? Carver: No. Aveline: All right, then. Bit of a tit, your brother.
Now, I've already expressed my beef with Aveline over insulting Carver in the middle of the barracks just because he doesn't agree with her view point on Ostagar... but consider the fact that Carver says nothing. He just lets her insult him without a complaint! Carver Hawke, who tends to complain! And he says nothing!
Not only that, but he actually internalized that insult enough that years later he's able to repeat it back to Aveline word for word, and all she has to say is, "Well..."
This isn't the same thing as him reflecting on his past behavior and acknowledging his flaws. This is Carver accepting a snide jab Aveline made that hurt him because apparently he was wrong for not wanting to discuss any trauma Ostagar left him with as openly as she does.
Oh, and don't forget that any other companion you brought along dogpiles on, too!
Carver: No, it's all right. It is. It cost a lot, but I get it. I really was a bit of a tit those days, wasn't I? Aveline: Well... Varric: No shit. Fenris: Insufferable. Isabela: Legendary. Anders: Maker, yes. Sebastian: I've heard as much. [If Hawke has a humorous/charming personality] Hawke: Spoiled, annoying, thick-headed, brattish little nitwit of a... oh, have we stopped?
Y'all ever wonder why he's so on edge or hostile with the other companions?
Also, I have to point out that Merrill is the only companion who doesn't say anything in agreement if she's there. In fact, across all their banter, Merrill's never been rude or insulting toward him. All she does is ask him if he's talking dirty to her and compliments him on what a great sworder he is. It's pretty obvious why Carver develops a crush on her, c'mon.
But to wrap this up-
This banter strikes a nerve due to how telling it is about both characters involved.
Carver has grown and done what he can to improve himself, but there's regret that lingers, a longing for a better life he could've had if given a chance. Maybe he would've failed, maybe he would've succeeded. But there's nothing he can do now, so he looks forward, just as he's always wanted to do. He's a damn good Grey Warden who wants to do right.
Aveline remains stagnant. She hasn't changed, nor has she improved, and maybe she would if she could figure out how to dislodge her head from her own ass. She still believes she was in the right to tell the guard not to accept Carver's application despite knowing the Hawke's were desperate and that Fereldan refugees couldn't find work. She knew Carver's a skilled soldier who fought at Ostagar just as she did. The guard wasn't the place for him so she's in the right to deny him any chance. Aveline knows best.
And y'know what, I think all I have left to say is...
Fine, Aveline. You're right. It wasn't the place for him.
Carver was too good for your city guard.
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You look lonely.
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《 VirginRockstar!Eddie munson x GroupieFem!Reader
《 Summary: Eddie finally had it all, success, money, and fame. There was still one tiny problem he had.
《 Warnings: unprotected sex, Eddie is 25. Virgin!Eddie, multiple orgasms, over stimulation. Loss of virginity. Brief mention of birth control, subish eddie. A little spanking.
《 Word count: a little over 8k
A/n: Not proofread ignore any mistakes you come across. Please like, comment, and reblog to show support. Divider credit @cafekitsune
18+ minors dni
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Year 1991
Eddie's life was at an all-time high. He had everything he only dreamt about back home in Hawkins, Indiana. He had money, fame, and adoring fans who loved him. Yet he still never had the opportunity to make a real connection with anyone. He still hasn't found the one.
Which was fine he didn't really need anyone right now. His life was too hectic for a partner. He was traveling all over the world meeting new people every night. He put all of his time and energy into music, and it paid off in the end.
He's surrounded by beautiful models and actresses, but never has he once been lucky enough to be intimate with any of them. He was a nervous and shy guy even after success. He never changed. He was still Eddie. Sweet, shy, and the same nerdy man who loved to play DnD and read Tolkien.
Eddie did have plenty of opportunities to lose his virginity in the past, but he was terrified. Most people would assume he was getting laid left and right. He's read the gossip magazines. He knows what people think of him. While he can talk up a big game, once it's time to get down to it, he just... doesn't.
He runs away. He gets too much in his own head. What if I'm terrible? What if everyone finds out I'm still a virgin at twenty-five? Those thoughts raced in his mind anytime he took a woman out on date, knowing they were expecting to hook up with this crazy rockstar.
His fear of rejection held him back, and now his fear of being a total disappointment was the new cause. He knows there's truly nothing wrong with still being a virgin. it's society who has a problem with it. Normally Eddie wouldn't give two fucks what people thought about him, but this was different. Most days, he actually doesn't care at all or even thinks about it. Until he's alone in bed with nothing but his overthinking brain.
All that would change once he saw you in the crowd. Not blinking. Then he saw you again when he snuck backstage to his dressing room. He managed to somehow sneak past a group of girls without much notice, hiding behind large security guards.
You were standing off to the side next to a crowd full of half-naked women. Eddie didn't mind all of you being there. As a matter of fact, he enjoyed the view after walking off stage. A crowd full of women willing to be his for the night. If only they knew.
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Tonight was your first Corroded Coffin show. You've been waiting months to finally see them live. They have been on their world tour for almost a full year. Eddie Munson, their lead singer and guitarist, has had your eye since you first saw them being interviewed on Headbangers Ball.
The moment you saw those eyes and long hair, you were hooked. Once you found out they were coming to your hometown, you rushed to buy the tickets. You were already familiar with the security at the venue they were playing. So, getting backstage access wouldn't be a problem. One of the perks of making friends with the employees.
You didn't sleep with every band that came into town. Only the ones that peaked your interest. You'd never be caught dead in some glam metal band members' hotel room. You liked the thrasher types. The ones who looked like they hadn't slept in days. The bands who were loud and aggressive. Those were your types. The guys in that scene were generally more sweet and down to earth. Which is why you gravitated towards them. If you were good to them, they were good to you.
Corroded Coffin live at The Whiskey a go-go on October 31st, 1991.
You held the ticket in your hand, shaking with excitement. You were finally going to see them in person. You were actually going to meet Eddie Munson. Being a groupie wasn't something you ever intended on happening. It just did. You loved the music first and then got to love the people who created it second.
You weren't too fond being labeled a groupie. You genuinely enjoyed the company of these rockstars. It was never just about sex. You made a real connection and friendship with most of them. You always knew there would be no romantic feelings between yourself and whoever it was you got to know for the night. Or a few nights.
Only two days until Corroded Coffin would be in your city. You bought two tickets just in case your best friend wanted to tag along. She never really enjoyed this scene the same way you did. There was a thrill and rush you got that she never experienced or cared to. Still, you bought the extra ticket just to be on the safe side. Maybe she'd like to share Eddie with you. If she was down. You don't know why you were so sure he'd give you the time of day. But you were.
You were very sure of yourself that you could have him. Most bands had an after-party at their hotel when the show was over. They'd all gather on the bus with whatever groupie of their choosing and head off. That was your plan. Get backstage. Introduce yourself to Eddie and hope he takes you to the party....if they have one. Party or not, you were going to be his.
You've heard the rumors. You read the magazines and seen him out and about with some of the most famous women in Hollywood. The groupies that walked the sunset strip all had a little tale of how he was in bed. They would describe him as rough or very giving. Sometimes both. Some said he was gentle.
Others would say he was an asshole who kicked you out after he got what he wanted. You know, most of the time, you needed to take what they said with a grain of salt. From your past experiences with other bands. Their little stories were fabricated or over dramatized for the sake of attention.
Make no mistake that you didn't just want to sleep with him. You wanted to be his friend. Talk to him about his music. Have a connection with him. Listen to any crazy stories he might have. You wanted to have a life like Pamela Des Barres.
Where songs are written about you. Getting special treatment and tour the world with them. Have a rockstar fall for you even though that's a big no-no. You don't fall in love. You don't get romantic feelings. No matter how deep of a connection you get with one of them. It's hard not to. You idolize these men and women. But you knew it would only end in heartbreak for you.
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The night of the concert you decided to go early and sweet talk the security so they'll let you backstage. You knew them pretty well by now. They know why you're there and have no problems with it. Your friend didn't tag along like you were hoping, but you're used to it. You'd figure you would chat it up with some of the other girls' backstage. They weren't your favorite to talk to. Too much jealousy and competition amongst them for your liking, but if gave you something to do in the meantime.
-
Eddie had been scrambling around all day long, getting ready for tonight's concert. He made sure his hair looked nice and his clothes were laid out on his hotel bed. He's been hitting the gym a lot more lately. So his clothing choice consisted of no shirt and just jeans half the time. He's got a lot more tattoos since the last tour he has done. A full chest piece and both arms down to his knuckles covered in ink. He looked a little different now compared to just three years ago.
He was nervous. Eddie was always nervous before a show. No matter if there was a crowd of five people or hundreds. He was scared. He puts too much pressure on himself. He compares himself to his idols too often. Something he knows he shouldn't do, but he can't help himself. He was going to the venue early and helping the roadies unpack and set up the equipment.
Eddie figured he'd meet up with the guys and do sound checks and then help his team get everything ready. They were playing at the Whiskey. A venue Eddie was very familiar with. He's spent most of his time in the crowd watching his favorite bands play up on that stage. Eddie never imagined there would come a point he'd be playing up there, too.
Back at the venue, you were talking it up with one girl you've grown pretty close to. You didn't know her personally, but she was at the same shows you always frequented. Her name was Lila, and she looked like she walked right out of a penthouse centerfold. Long bleached blonde hair, big breasts and legs for days. Most of the other girls hated her, but she was always very sweet. She didn't make up one night stand stories to get "popular." If she didn't hook up with a certain guy, then she'd tell you. She never lied. Which is why you've grown to respect her.
"I hope we get to meet Eddie after the show ." She bounced from one heeled foot to the next. A large smile plastered on her face.
"Me too." You chuckled, watching as she struggled to contain her excitement.
"Doesn't matter which one of us takes him home as long as it is not one of those Debbie downers over there." She leaned forward to whisper.
"Why not have us both?" You joked.
Her jaw dropped." Yes! He can have us both."
You shake your head and pull her to walk over out by the side stage. You always got the best view from there. No one shoves or pushes you out the way. Plus, you could be very close to the band. Which is exactly what you wanted. The sound tech guys were busy putting everything together as the roadies were bringing in the equipment.
That's when you noticed him. Hair pulled back in a low ponytail. His bangs are longer, and loose strands of hair fell beside his face. He wasn't wearing a shirt, just pants and a chain around his neck. The tattoos on his arms and chest on full display for you. Eddie was getting the amps on stage with the rest of the crew. You heard them make a joke about which girl in the back they'd pick out for him. But you didn't care about that. You couldn't take your eyes away. He was truly more beautiful in person than on TV.
Eddie glanced your way a few times when he noticed a couple of people off to the side watching. He felt a blush creep its way up to his cheeks when he saw you gawking at him. Eddie still wasn't the best around women if he didn't prep himself first. He was a good flirt, but the moment he noticed they were checking him out, he'd turn beet red. The little blonde standing next to you had her eyes on the road crew.
You saw him make eye contact with you a few times, and your mouth went dry. You've been with plenty of rockstars before, but none of them have ever given you butterflies the way Eddie did. His big brown eyes look straight into yours, and your breath hitches. You tried to elbow Lila and get her attention, but she was too busy checking out a roadie. She was like that.
It didn't matter if they were the ones playing onstage or working for the band. If she found them attractive, she went for it. You nudged and nudged desperately, trying to get her attention as Eddie's eyes never left yours. But all you heard was her giggle next to you as she eyed up and down the guitar tech. "Alright, Ed, time for sound check." You saw Jeff peek his head from around the corner.
You lost her now. Her focus was not on Eddie anymore but his roadie. You wouldn't be surprised if she even stayed to watch the show.
Only an hour until the show starts and you were getting antsy. Lila was gone. She left not too long after the stage was officially set up. You knew where she ventured off to. Didn't take a rocket scientist to figure that out. You just wish you weren't alone. There was something so...exciting about tonight. You've been to plenty of rock concerts, but this one was different. You didn't want to experience it alone.
Corroded Coffin were still considered newcomers. Who got very big very fast. There wasn't a magazine on a stand that didn't have Eddie's face on it. From tabloids to Spin magazine. He was on it. The thrill of getting to experience him in person was coursing through your veins.
There was this lump of excitement in your throat. You wanted to scream. Get it all out. You made up your mind that you were going back to his tour bus or hotel room. He was going to be yours for the night. It didn't matter how many women were lined up for his picking. It was going to be you.
Finally, the lights dim, and the crowd has already gathered to their designated spots. You were still off to the side. Gazing up at the smokey harsh purple haze lighting up the stage. There is a backdrop with huge black lettering reading Corroded Coffin hanging up high. Gareth is already at his drum set, setting up for the rest of the guys to make their grand entrance.
Each member emerges from behind the curtain with a roar from this pretty large crowd. Jeff and Grant waved to the sea of people. The crowd is alive, and you can feel it. That electricity is pumping in your veins. The place was packed. Maximum compacity is five hundred, but you know there is way more than that here tonight.
The mic in the middle of the front stage stays empty. Eddie still has yet to come out and introduce his band. The crowd is getting more and more wild. The other members play some instrumental songs to help hold everyone over until he arrives.
The band picks up speed, and the lights switch from a purple haze to red. The entire stage was glowing. The smoke on the stage gets thicker. The crowd forms a mosh pit right off to the side from you. Some of them sneak on stage to dive back into the crowd.
Your eyes have not left the stage. Not once. You kept glancing back from the mic stand to the curtain. You wouldn't lie. You were getting impatient. Extremely impatient. You wish you still had Lila with you so you could have someone to talk to as time passed. Knowing her, you probably won't be seeing her around until the next band is in town.
You blinked, and there he was. A guitar slung over his chest. His hair hanging loose around his shoulders. The shirt he was wearing now tore and cut shows off all of his tattoos. He doesn't say anything. He makes his way to the mic with a cocky smirk on his face. Watching the sea of arms waving out for him. The band never slows. Eddie starts belting out lyrics to their newest single. His voice growling in the mic. You'll never understand how these guys can do this almost every night for months on end.
The veins in his neck buldging out with every passing lyric. The crowd here tonight has never been like this before. There was something so special about witnessing a group with so much energy and passion that it's passed off to the crowd. The floor beneath your feet vibrating. You can't tell if it's from the music or the stampede next to you. Whatever it was, it had you mesmerized.
Your eyes still never left, Eddie. He stopped playing for a short moment to address the crowd. "How is everybody doing tonight?!" The contrast bewildered you. Between his speaking voice and singing voice definitely would give anyone whiplash.
He scanned the crowd, looking at how chaotic it had been since he arrived. Eddie looks off the side and sees you there. Same spot at earlier. You must look utterly hypnotized, and truth be told you were. You couldn't look away. He's got some kind of hold on you. He smirks and looks back to the rest of the audience, but every so often would make eye contact with you.
Song after song, you noticed guitar picks landing by your feet. You hadn't seen the first three times it was done. Too busy watching him thrash away on his guitar. You're surprised it's still able to play after the beating he's given it. He's playing so fast his hand looks like a blur. A pick slapping you in the chest snaps you back to reality. You bend to retrieve it and notice there are now five picks total all by your feet. They're a crimson red with E.M. scratched in the back.
Eddie had been throwing his picks at you the whole time. You hadn't noticed until he plucked one so hard at your chest that you felt it through your t-shirt. He moves over to your side of the stage and crouches down so he's almost eye level with you. He's so close you can touch him if you wanted. Eddie plays the solo of their final song of the night right in front of you. It was like he was playing it for you. Time stood still. Just the two of you and the music. You didn't even realize you stopped breathing until he got up and walked away. Giving you one last look over his should.
Eddie goes back to stand at his microphone. His confidence is through the roof. His stance is proud. "Thank you so fucking much for coming out to see us tonight. We are Corroded Coffin!" He growls that last part out, and the crowd erupt so loud you know your ears will be ringing tomorrow. The vibration on the floor intensified. You were surprised that it hasn't collapsed in yet.
One by one, the members exit the stage. Leaving Eddie to be the last. He looked back at you one last time and gave a little wave. Did he really just wave at you? No must have been to someone else. Definitely not you. You kept telling yourself.
There is no way. He was giving you a lot of attention tonight. Maybe he was? You kept arguing back and forth in your mind as you headed out.
Before you can even try to find the backstage area again, there is a security guard handing you a pass. That was awfully quick, but you don't dwell on it. All you wanted was to find Lila and Eddie.
You rush to the back and see her sitting on a case that holds one of their bigger amps. Her hair is disheveled, and her makeup all smeared. "Where did you go?"
She jumps, "Oh hey!! I got preoccupied."
"How was the show?"
You snort. "It was amazing. They were amazing. He was amazing."
"Babe, that's great. Are you going to the after-party at their penthouse?" Lila goes to stand and smooths down her dress. "The roadie.. I forgot his name told me about it."
"Oh, I'm definitely going. The security guard gave me a pass. I'm sure Eddie told him to give it to me. He had been throwing these at me all night." You go into your pocket to show her one of his picks he had been hitting you with.
Her eyes widened, and a smile spreads across her face. "He wants youuu."
She looked over at the other girls, who were now ease dropping on your conversation. She rolled her eyes and went back to give you a big hug. A bright smile stretched across her face.
"Let's get going. There is another little roadie I got my eye on." She hooks an arm around yours, guiding you to the exit doors.
You don't see Eddie anywhere. He's not out mingling with any of the backstage crew or fans. You figured he was getting cleaned up after the show. He did look very sweaty. His shirt clung to his skin, and his bangs stuck to his forehead. You were positive you would see him at the after party.
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The after-party was at this luxury hotel in the penthouse suite. Jeff, Grant, Gareth, and Eddie all had their own hotel rooms but used this one for mingling after their concert. There were tons of people here. Lila left you behind again the moment she walked through those double doors. She saw her roadie and planted herself in his lap and never got up.
You dabbled in conversation with their crew and had a pretty good talk with Jeff. He was the calm one of the band, and Grant was the funny one. When they got to bickering, it was like watching an old married couple. Grant would say some stupid joke, and Jeff would rub at his temple like he just came down with the worst migraine of his life.
While you were busy conversing with them, you kept scanning the room for Eddie. The sole reason you were even here to begin with. He wasn't here. At least not yet. You were wondering if maybe he found someone else to spend his night with. The thought of that riddled you with disappointment. Was he even the one who gave you the pass?
That didn't stop you from looking. The more you looked for him, the less engaged you were with the two men in front of you. The drink in your hand has become room temperature. More people have now rushed to join the party. The air was thick with smoke. The music was loud, and you started to feel suffocated. You excused yourself from the conversation to go to a less occupied area away from everyone.
As you're making your way past drunk person after drunk person, you see him. Eddie's standing off to the side with a glass in hand that contained a dark liquid. He looks freshly showered. His hair is still a little damp at the ends. You decided to muster up some courage and walk over to where he was tucked away all alone.
"You look lonely." You remark watching his face closely.
He swirls the brown liquid in the glass, causing the ice to clink. "Nah, jus' wanted a moment to cool down." He stared ahead watching the party.
"You know, just one pick would've been enough." You joked, hoping to lighten his mood a little. Eddie was coming off dismissive, but he's was just shy. He's never been good with small talk. As a matter of fact, he hated small talk it always felt forced more than anything.
He snorts, "Sorry bout that you weren't really noticing the first three I plucked your way, though."
"That's fair...."
You eye him and down, taking him all in. He looked good. Eddie notices you checking him out, too. His bites his inner cheek to keep calm. You're looking at him like you want to devour him whole.
"Wanna go somewhere more quiet?" You place a hand on his forearm and lean in a little close.
"It's pretty loud in here. I can't really hear you." You played innocent. You know what you were doing, and Eddie definitely knew what you were doing.
He gulps "Uhhh...sure". He straightens himself up, clearing his throat. He needs to keep his composure. But for how long? Would tonight be the night?
This alway happened he would invite a girl to his room or they would invite him somewhere. Things would get hot and heavy, and right when it was time to fuck he'd kick them out. Too embarrassed to be a disappointment for them. He'd rather be called an asshole than terrible at sex. Tonight? Tonight was going to be different.
He set his drink down by a near table and takes you by the hand leading you out a door you had no idea was there. Eddie walks you down an empty hallway until he's stopping at his room door. He takes his key out and looks back to see you behind him, staring at the fancy carpet. He was nervous but so were you. Just a little. Eddie had a bit of liquid courage in him tonight. He's usually a beer guy but decided to go for something harder to celebrate how great of a show tonight was.
There is a click, and soon he's pushing open the door. "You first." As he bows letting you enter.
You make your way in the room as he flicks on the lights behind you. It was large with a couch facing a king-sized bed. You take your jacket off, and he does the same. Eddies wearing a shirt that if it had anymore holes wouldn't even be considered wearable anymore. It does show off his arms and tattoos, so you're not complaining.
Throwing your jacket on the side of his couch, "You guys were really good tonight."
"Thanks the crowd was fucking insane." Eddie's making himself another drink at the mini bar. "Thought they were gonna go through the floor."
"Want one?" He offers calling over to you.
Shaking your head. "No, I had quit enough earlier, actually."
He nods respectfully at your decline.
Rounding the corner of his bar, he comes to plop down beside you, spilling a little of his drink on him. He's watching you closely, and you've never felt more nervous around anyone else before. You've done this plenty of times. Take a rockstar back to their room. Have some fun, and then stay a little while or leave. No one has ever made your heart skip a beat other than Eddie Munson. Who is now watching you intently. In this moment, you really wish Lila was here too.
You do it. You go right for it. This is why you're here. Why he took you to his room with no amount of hesitation. Leaning forward, you capture his lips with yours in a feverish kiss. You can taste brandy on his mouth as your tongue swips his bottom lip for access. Eddie still holding on to his drink, and the other is firmly planted beside him. You stop coming up for air. His chest is heaving, and his pupils are blown.
Eddies doesn't say anything. He was too caught up on from your kiss. He leans back in the cushions. Letting his legs spread wider apart. You take that as an opportunity to straddle his lap. Eddie stared up at you, and before you could say anything. His plump lips were already on yours. You grind down against him feeling his semi hard cock through his pants. He grunts in your mouth as your tongues fight for dominance.
You press down harder in his lap, desperately looking for any small amount of friction you could get. Wetness is already pooling between your legs. His hands move to grip on your ass hard as he helps you move against him.
You kept thinking to yourself that this wasn't real. You're actually not sitting in Eddie Munson's lap making out in his hotel room. He moans when he feels your hand dip down to rub his cock. Feeling how hard he was getting in his jeans.
Eddie breaks the kiss and stills your movements on him. "Wait, you don't wanna do this with me. He frowns.
"Why wouldn't I?" You're confused. Does he not like you? Does he not find you attractive and is only saying this to be nice so you'd leave? So many thoughts rush through your head in just a couple of seconds.
"I dunno. I just think you might be let down a little." His voice is small. He's not the big loud rockstar that was screaming just hours ago.
Eddie still won't dare look at you. Too afraid of rejection even to this day if he told you the truth.
Your brows furrow, and you laugh in disbelief, "Why would I be let...down? "
He rolls his eyes and lets out an exasperated groan. He moves to get up, and you go to sit back in your spot on the couch.
Pinching the bridge of his nose. His lips were in a thin line. He was annoyed and embarrassed. Mostly with himself.
".....fuck I guess now is the time." He muttered under his breath.
"Ive never done this before." Eddie waved from himself to you. Hoping you got what he was trying to say so he didn't have to blurt it all out.
"Huh, do what? You're still so confused, but you're trying to understand him.
Not only did his music mean so much to you, but he did as well. Corroded Coffin was the first band you truly clung on to. The first band that you actually bought a ticket to see instead of sneaking in and stealing a seat. Seeing him struggle to find his words was truly tough to watch. You have so much respect and admiration for him. The last thing you want is to see him upset over something.
"It's okay Eddie whatever it is, you can tell me. It won't make me think any less of you. You tried to reassure him.
He takes a deep breath, "Fucking hell I can't believe I'm about about tell you this...I'm a virgin."
You blinked back, thinking he was just messing around. He was known to pull little pranks on people. "Shut up, you're lying. I've heard the rumors."
"Yeah, that's what they are, rumors, all lies." He chews on his thumb nail out of nervousness. Would you laugh at him now? Is he still this amazing rockstar? "It won't make me think any less of you." Yours words ring in his head, but were they true?
"B-but you've gone out with like very famous women." It's not that you didn't believe him or that this was a bad thing. He was a famous rockstar who could have anyone he wanted.
"Nothing ever happened, sure. I tried to get to know them and have a serious relationship, but most of them just used me to shed whatever good girl image they had going." Eddie confessed. There was a hint of sadness in his voice.
"So... You're telling the truth?"
"Yeah, I understand if you wanna leave." His tone was harsh, but he didn't mean for it to come off that way. He is getting defensive to protect himself from humiliation.
"I don't wanna go." You move to stand in front of him. "Do you want me to leave?"
"No," Eddie's voice is barely above a whisper. He finally looks at you, and his face softens when he sees no amount of judgment coming from you.
"Let's get on the bed." You push him so he flops back on the mattress. Standing between his legs hanging off the side, bare feet firmly planted on the floor. His shoes having long been discarded.
Slowly, you strip yourself of your top, pulling it above your head as he watched your tits bounce as you lift the shirt. You weren't wearing a bra, and you were thankful for that. One less article of clothing to getting in the way. Next was your jeans, and you carefully inched them down your legs along with your panties. Eddies eyes stayed glued to you as you became completely bare before him.
"You ever touched a girl before?" You crawl on top of him sitting just below his cock straining painfully against his zipper.
He scoffs, rolling his eyes. "Yes, I've touched tits before."
"Not tits..here." You laugh, taking his hand and putting it between your legs. He lets out a shakey breath. Feeling the wetness between your legs as you feel his calloused fingers explore your entrance. Your slick coating his fingertips, getting them nice and sticky.
"Oh," he marveled, his eyes focusing on where his hand currently was.
"I'm gonna make you feel so good, Eddie." You purred.
You bite back a moan as he continued to explore at your opening. Your hand gripped at his wrist.
"Fuck." He cursed under his breath. Your pussy felt so inviting. Dripping wet like it was crying out for him. Begging and pleading to be fucked.
His finger glided up between your folds until they're grazing your aching clit. "Mmm, that feels so good." You praised and move both of your hands to place them on his chest.
Eddies watching and studying your face. His fingers rubbing sloppy slow circles on your throbbing clit. Your slick dripping down your inner thighs. You moan out his name and it takes everything in Eddie not to cum on the spot.
"Take your clothes off." You breathed heavy, feeling yourself already getting close.
He sat up quickly as you helped remove his shirt and pants. Leaving him in nothing but his blue checkered boxers. Tiny beads of sweat already forming on his face and tattooed chest. You take a moment to admire the dark inck, covering him almost up all the way up to his neck. You know It must have taken hours or even days to finish.
He lays there waiting. Watching and waiting for your next move or instructions. Whatever you were going to do, he was ready for it. Anything you wanted, he's all ears. Eddie was yours for the night as he wasn't going to chicken out this time. No running.
His cock forming a large tent in his underwear already. You can see a small wet patch from his pre cum. "Can I kiss you?"
He nods, moving forward to plant his lips to yours. You giggle, "Not on the mouth."
"Im talking about right there." You run your thumb over his leaking tip that's trapped in his boxers. A mischievous grin creeping up on your face.
Eddie looks a little dazed. Like he can't believe this actually happening to him right now. "Y-yeah."
You pull his boxers down letting his cock free. His tip was an angry shade of red, precum dripping down his cock. Your mouth salivating at his length. His cock was thick with prominent running down his shaft. It laid nicely against his belly button.
"You have such a pretty cock." You cooed taking his length in your hand. Eddie hisses from your touch. He's so sensitive that any amount of attention will send him just about over the edge.
His head falls back, and you can see his Adam's apple bounce when he swallows. He blows out a breath of air, trying to focus.
"Oh shit." He whispered to himself.
You take the opportunity to lick a strip up the side of his cock. He groans deep from his chest. He was going to cum he just knows it. With his cock still in your hand you slap the head of his cock on your tongue tasting the saltiness of his pre cum. Wrapping your lips around the head, you swirl and suck on him gently. Eddie throws an arm over to cover up face. His other hand clawing at the white duvet.
"I-if you don't stop, I'm not gonna last much longer." He managed to stammer out. Your mouth too busy working on his sensitive tip to even care.
You remove his cock to speak, "That's kinda the point."
Wrapping your soft lips back around him. You suck much harder this time, and his hips involuntarily buck. You smile, feeling a boost of confidence you are getting this type of reaction out of him. Felt like getting a little cocky. you decided to take him further in your mouth until he hit the back of your throat.
His abdomen flexing as his release builds. Your throat swallowing around his length. You pull him almost all the way out before taking him in your mouth fully again. Your head bobbing up and down his shaft. His hips bucking up again making his cock go deeper in your throat. You gag slightly as spit drips down your chin.
Eddies still hiding his face from you. His cheeks flushed. "Fuck....I'm gonna cum."
You bob your faster. You take absolutely no sympathy on him. You want him to finish. You want to taste and feel his cum sliding down the back of your throat. You say something in audible as your mouth is currently stuffed full. Your jaw is hurting and going slack. But you don't care.
Your main goal for right now is not only to make him cum, but make him do it as many times as he can handle. With no warning, Eddie grabs your hair and keeps your head in place while thrusting up in your mouth, making it difficult for you to catch your breath. Your nose brushes against the soft curls of his with each thrust he gave. His hips raising off the bed to push his cock in the back of your throat.
"Mmphf, ooh shit." He grunts, shooting ropes of cum down your throat. The saltiness of his cum is all you can taste. Eddies relentlessly fucking your mouth the way he wants to fuck your pussy as he rides out his orgasm.
Every low groan emitted deep from his chest causes your pussy to flutter, sending a shiver down your spine.
He lets go of you, and you remove him from your throat with a loud pop. His cum and your saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth.
"Christ, I'm sorry." Eddie apologized, He really tried not to cum so suddenly. He really really did.
You coughed a little, finally able to breathe normally again. "It's okay."
"Yeah, but... what about you?" He asked as guilt was starting to set in. He didn't want you leaving with ache between your legs that wasn't satisfied.
"Who said we were done?" You smile deviously at him. His cock still semi hard on his belly. You lay beside him, running your fingernails against his length. He gasps and lets out a whimper.
The difference between this Eddie and the one on stage is something you'll never forget. His cock twitches and you can feel him getting hard under your touch.
"Scoot up on the bed for me." You instructed, wanting him to get nice and comfortable before continuing.
Eddie listened and moved higher up on the bed until his head hit the pillows.
You move to straddle him. His cock sitting just above your pussy. He's looking at you in awe. Like you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, and he's completely at your mercy. And you are. And he is. As of right now, if you told him to run naked down the hallways, he'd do it. Eddie would do anything you told him to.
You rise and scoot forward some more so his cock is between your wet fold. You rock back and forth on him. He moan as you rubbed yourself on his cock. Your aching clit is finally getting some much needed attention. His chest is rising and falling rapidly.
Eddie moves his hands so they're holding on tight to your hips. You grind on him harder and faster. Your juices soaking his thick cock. That's it he was going to cum again. It was too much. What was left of his cum you didn't clean off was currently making a mess all over your pussy.
"F-fucking! hell." Eddie breathed, his fingers digging deep into your skin. He could feel another orgasm approaching him.
You felt yourself growing closer, too. The veins on his cock pulsating between your legs. Your pussy rubbing against him so deliciously. His tip nudging at your clit. Your legs tremble. Eddie bites down hard on his bottom lip almost drawing blood. His eyes glossed over. He was in pure extacy.
Eddie couldn't get enough. The feeling of his cock gliding between your slippery wet folds. It was driving him wild. If just by doing this felt incredible. Then he can't even comprehend what it must feel like to be buried in your pussy.
You had him drooling and unable to think straight. Nothing his own hand and a dirty magazine has ever been able to accomplished. Whatever his own imagination concocted was nothing compared to you. Nothing at all.
"You....this--fuck I can't even talk." Eddies whimpering and whining under you. He has a vice grip going from your ass and back to your hips. Moving them to hold on for dear life or smoothing over the softness of your skin.
"Oh my god!" he croaked. The bed rocking back and forth as you grinded on his cock. The pictures on the wall shake as you go faster. He watches as your breasts bounce, putting him in a trance.
Your climax quickly approaching, but you try to push it back. You wanted him to cum. You'll get yours later.
You feel him twitch again, and he curses under his breath. The grip he has on your hips starts to hurt. "I'm cuming...oh fuck I'm cuming." You haven't stopped moving as his cum shoots out onto his stomach and chest. Tears spring to his eyes and pour down his cheeks. Both of your minds are clouded. You stop grinding, letting him come down from his high.
He lays there limp arms out stretched after letting you go.
"I..youre so fucking amazing." Eddie finally spoke up.
You move back off him letting his cock rest up before you continued anymore. If only others could see him right now. Completely fucked out and you've only just begun. His skin is shiny with a sheen of sweat in the lighting of his hotel room. Eddie would never forget this moment or you for that matter. If he could take you on tour with him and never let you leave, he would.
"Hey, pretty boy, you okay?" You coaxed, running a hand down his cheek.
He doesn't speak, still trying to collect himself. "Mmhmm." Was all you managed to get out of him. His cock was surprisingly still hard.
"Are you ready to feel me now?" You leaned over to whisper in his ear. Licking a strip up his throat before biting down, leaving a tiny little bruise behind.
"Fuck yes." His husky voice as he replied. His eyes are closed, preparing himself for you.
Eddie was ready for this. More than ready. He made himself wait long enough out of fear and anxiety.
"Need your cock so bad." You playfully whine. Hearing that drove him crazy. He doesn't think he'll ever tire listening to someone beg for his cock from now on. Not after tonight.
You smile and move to lean up. Taking his length in your hand and aligning him up at your opening. His breath hitches as you take just his tip in you. Eddies mouth hangs open as he watches you slowly sink down on his length.
You take him inch by inch teasing him as you do. He's so thick it's going to take time adjusting to his size. You don't think you're ever going to feel as full as you will tonight. Somehow, you wonder if Eddie truly knows just how big he is. He has to have an idea? Right?
You continue sinking down on his cock while its spreading you open. It was pleasure and a little pain feeling him splitting you open like this. Your pussy dripping for him. "Ooh, Eddie."
He's biting hard on his closed fist. Fighting hard to contain whatever animalistic moan is threatening to escape. The tip of his cock is a shade of red that's almost purple. The veins in his neck protruding out.
"Please fuck me." He begged you.
Eddie Munson just begged you to fuck him. He's actually begging.
you most definitely are not forgetting tonight and will most certainly never tell anyone. Not even Lila. Sorry, she had a chance to be here and instead picked a roadie. The boost of confidence that just surged through your body after hearing him.
"I-i don't care what you do jus fuck me oh fff-god please!" Eddie whined as he rushed to feel your pussy hugging around his cock.
"Relax, I'm g'nna fuck you." You teased.
Finally you bury him deep inside you until his cock has fully disappeared. You both sigh in unison at the relief. You sit still, allowing yourself to get used to the intrusion. You roll your hips, taunting him a little.
"Sweetheart, dont tease me. I need you." He begs you some more.
"Mmf! god!, you're so big." You whimper. Eddie's cock stretched your sensitive walls the way no one else ever has.
You brace your hands on his abdomen. Eddie, out of nowhere, slaps your ass hard. He was growing extremely impatient all of a sudden. Grabbing your attention immediately. You nod, blowing out a breath of air. Rolling your hips some more before lifting them up and slamming yourself back down on him. His pubic hair tickling at your clit. Your both moaning together as his hips thrust up to meet yours. His tip hit that spongey spot on your walls.
"Fuck fuck... it hurts", Eddie cried with a strangled moan.
"Want me to stop?" You asked stopping yourself from gliding your pussy on his length.
"No! Don't stop!" He half shouts.
"I like it."
You quirk an eyebrow at him. His eyes look into yours, pleading for you to keep going. You lift yourself up and gingerly sink back down on his cock.
"Faster." Eddie demanded with a croak in his voice. You don't hesitate for a second. You lift up and start bouncing on his length at a frantic pace.
The springs in the mattress squeaked from how hard you rode him. Eddies face twisting up, and you know he's about to cum once more. He's blabbering nonsense beneath you. Mumbling to himself, "it hurts... so good," and "You're so tight."
He moves one of his hands to grip and spank your ass harshly. You know he is probably mimicking what he's seen in porn but you dont mind. You enjoyed it. Your pussy making a loud wet schlick noise as Eddie's cock stretched you open.
"Ahh! Eddie." You moan out for him.
"Keep fucking me.....dont stop. Dont f-fking stop." He grunts. His eyes half lidded as he watched you ride his cock. "Goddamn, you're wet!"
You feel your release building back up. You reach a hand between your legs as Eddie watched you. You rub tight circles on your sore bud.
He leans up on his elbows, looking on as you play with yourself. He was getting close again. Another orgasm threatening to spill out of him. Eddie is surprised he's about to give you another. he knows he's about to cum for the third time tonight.
"W-wanna cum again for you." Eddie lets out a small whimper. He sounded so needy.
"Oooh baby." You mewl. Your mouth creating an O shape. Your eyes are closed tight, and your thighs shake. You feel that coil in your belly tightening. "Spank me again." You begged him.
Eddie does as he's told and slaps your ass hard, causing it to ripple. The sound of skin slapping bouncing off the wallpapered room.
He feels your walls pulsing around his cock and he thrusts up repeatedly hitting that spongey spot inside you just right. Your hand moving faster circles on your clit as you struggle to keep riding him.
Eddie keeps thrusting his cock up in your pussy over and over again. It doesn't take much longer before your orgasm is ripping through your body. You let out moan that almost resembles a scream. He's watching you come undone before him. A hint of pride hits him, knowing it was him who did that to you. You won't be surprised if hotel security is called to check and see if any is hurt. The noises coming from this room would cause anyone to be concerned.
Your nails digging in his chest while his cock helps you ride out your orgasm. Your body spasms above him. You lean forward to bury your face in the crook of his neck. You stay like that while Eddies sweaty skin and leftover cologne invading your nose. Sitting back up your mind feeling foggy and your face tingles. White dots appearing in front of you.
"Sweetheart I-I can't cum inside you." Eddie rasped his face tear stained. His eyes look at you sadly.
"I'm on the pill it's okay." You reassured.
He nods and you move your hips to easily ride on his cock. Your pussy clenching up around his length was sending him over the edge. You were so tight. So wet. His balls are completely saturated in your creamy juices.
You feel his length twitch against your walls. Just a few more pumps of his cock and he's spilling his load for the third time. Eddie cums so deep and hard inside of you he forgets how to breathe for a moment.
His toes curling and eyes go crossed. His mouth hanging wide open. He shoots a hand up to press against the headboard, bracing himself. You're relentless on top of him. Bouncing on his cock the bed is smacking the wall with so much force.
"Fuking christ." He grunts, his head digging back into the pillow. His back arching. You don't stop bouncing up and down on him like a bunny until you've milked him dry. His cock growing more in pain by the minute.
"C-cant cum again" Eddie pleaded. His cock hurt and it was now unbearable. Not like how it felt before when the pain was enjoyable. He can feel himself, getting close again.
Eddie just can't do it. He wants to, but he can't. He wants to fill you up with his cum again. He wants to make a mess of you the same way you did for him. Unfortunately his cock is too worn out and and sensitive to give you another.
You listened and halted.
"No more." He breathed.
"Want me to stop this time?"
Eddie nodded, squeezing his eyes shut. Regretfully, he had to stop. He's drained in more ways than one.
His face all the way to his neck is beet red. If his chest wasn't covered in tattoos, you'd guess he was that color all over.
He lets out a shuddered breath, running a hand in his hair. You take the opportunity to carefully remove him from inside you. Wincing a little at the sudden loss. His cum dripping out of your pussy and down your trembling legs a little getting on him as well. Eddie is quivering beneath you. There is a trail of his cum left behind on his abdomen and chest from his previous orgasm.
You laid back down next to where he was. His cock sore and tired from the abuse you just gave it. You and Eddie lay there not speaking for a while. The only sounds are low hums coming from the A/C. Your breathing evening out.
"Ya okay?" You asked softly, breaking the silence.
"Yeah, I...I feel fan-fuckin-tastic, actually." Eddie laughed, recalling what just happened.
"Well, I should probably get ready to go now." You announce trying to hide the sadness in your voice.
"You're not gonna stay a little longer?" He moves to sit up.
"D-did you want me to stay?" You eyed him curiously.
"....well, yeah." His voice now very horse from grunting for so long. He shifts to look you in the eyes. Letting you know he's serious.
"You can sleep here if you want and leave in the morning. Check out isn't until 11:am."
"Oh okay..I'll stay." You smiled over to him.
"Cool! Hey, did you want to hear this new song I'm working on?" Eddie exclaimed, trying to stand on his wobbly legs.
He carefully walks over to his guitar, still completely naked, and his hair disheveled.
"Is that even a question?" You pick up his discarded grungy t-shirt throwing it over your head. You never realized how cold his room felt until now.
For the rest of the night, Eddie spent the majority of the time playing you little snippets of songs he's been writing. He'd ask you for honest feedback, which you gave.
"Ya know, I'm definitely gonna be writing a song about you." He stated, strumming lazily on his guitar.
Your eyes widened as you laughed at what you thought was a joke." You're serious?"
"As a heart attack." Eddie smiled before getting off the couch, tackling you back on the bed and attacking your neck. Having you both giggling like maniacs.
After this night, you became a legend in your own right. You swore you'd never tell a soul about this, but It didn't take long after the song was officially released for everyone to put two and together. Eddie kept his word about writing a song after you. He didn't mention you were his first, but that's okay. That can be your little secret together. The best kept secret.
Corroded Coffin would go off to win two grammys and headline stadium tours. You went to see them when they came into town, and Eddie gave you the VIP treatment. You promised yourself you wouldn't catch feelings. That was hard to do when he would serenade you in his hotel room.
Eddie was too charming and caring to avoid any of that. You knew better, and you curse yourself for even going against your own set of rules. You were sure Eddie didn't feel the same. He just had a special bond with you after you took his virginity. He definitely didn't possess any true feelings for you besides admiration and friendship. Or did he? Only time will tell.
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sanguineterrain · 1 month
Note
YES. BODYGUARD JASON TODD.
He's used to being looked over, just seen as meat & muscle (he doesn't mind, it's part of the job) but you're the first "job" who actually sees him, talks to him, makes him laugh 🫠 he doesn't know what he'll do if someone actually tries to put their hands on you 🙂
hiiii aud thank you for the scrumptious jaybird thoughts <3 so begins my bodyguard!Jason agenda!
bodyguard!jason todd x gn!reader. fluff, pining, and tension so thick you could cut it with a batarang.
All fics are reblogged to @sanguinelibrary
****
"Y'know, I think you just keep me around to carry your bags."
You grin over your shoulder where the Red Hood trails behind you, always five paces behind. Your takeout bag is in one hand, your new shirts in another. He wears a red mask over the lower half of his face, like always. Only seeing his eyes used to unnerve you, but now it's a comfort, finding his gaze in a crowd.
"That's not true. I also keep you around for something nice to look at," you say.
He tilts his head. Your belly flutters. "Flattery will get you nowhere, trouble."
"Flattery got me outside of my hotel, Red."
He sighs. "Tricking the hotel concierge doesn't count."
You laugh. "Sure it does. I think it does." You stick your arm out. "Will you walk next to me?"
"You know my rule."
"But you can easily cover me if you're next to me! And I'm so good at ducking. See?"
You duck and straighten a few times in a row to demonstrate. A few people stare. You ignore them. Hood's eyes crinkle in a way that tells you he's smiling.
"Mm, incredible technique. Wonder who taught you that. A ruggedly handsome bodyguard, perhaps?"
"Always hungry for the credit," you say. "Despicable."
"Ain't I?"
You turn around and stop. He stops five paces behind. You take a step forward. He takes a step back.
"I wanna see your face when we talk," you say, face pinched.
"Not in public, trouble. It's for your safety. You know that."
"Can't you come a little closer?"
None of your friends are like this with their personal guards. A moment from a friend's birthday party resurfaces.
It's almost like you'd rather be with him than us. You know he's just doing his job, right?
Hood stays exactly where he is. "This is the ideal spot for covering you. Now, c'mon. Thought you wanted to shop."
You sigh and let your arms flop to your sides. He must be nervous today. You can't imagine why.
"Fine. Be that way."
You hurry ahead. Hood doesn't lag behind. Stupid long-legged bodyguard.
"You can be mad at me as long as you stay safe," he says.
You turn again, about to really bitch about how strict he's being. But his proximity stops you short. He's inched closer, so close that you can properly see his eyes.
"This close enough for you?" he asks.
Hood's eyes are warm in the light, mossy and rich. His lashes and brows are dark and thick. Once or twice, you've seen a splash of freckles across his nose. The bridge of his nose is crooked like it's been broken one too many times.
Dear God, you yearn to know him.
Your stomach does more flips. Hood watches you, half-lidded.
"What're y'doing, trouble?"
His voice is soft, the way it gets when he's trying to smooth over a tiff between you. You can't figure out why he does that. You always get over it. And so does he. He has no choice.
"I'm looking at you, Red," you say.
"Yeah? What're y'lookin' at me for?"
"'Cause I want to."
He blinks. "Me? Not much to look at."
You look at each other for another minute. The want bubbles up again, spills out of your mouth before you can stop it.
"Please walk next to me," you say. "I need to know you're there."
He leans in to speak, black curl tumbling over his forehead. He smells sweet, like apples and spice. You almost appreciate the danger in your life because it keeps you in the Red Hood's line of sight.
"Wha's the matter? Y'nervous? I'm right here."
Oh, you're nervous, alright. Just not in the way he thinks. The way you ought to be.
You turn around. For your sake and his.
"Not nervous. Just... just... never mind. You pick where we go next, Red."
"It's your day. 'M just the driver," he says.
"If you won't walk next to me, the least you can do is pick where we go."
"The least I can do, huh?"
It's clear he isn't going to choose. So you watch him instead. You turn the corner and sneak glances over your shoulder. You don't care much about shopping anymore anyway. It's only an excuse to go out. To be alone with him.
Your answer comes. It's only for a split second, but you catch it anyway. He taught you to notice things after all. Says it could be the difference between living and dying.
You immediately change course. Hood follows you easily, and you breeze through the bookstore's entrance. You sneak a look to gauge his reaction. He's looking around, but that could just be him clocking the exits and obstacles. You grab his hand. He looks at your joined hands, then at you.
"Feeling lost?" he asks.
"No. Just trying to keep you present. Nothing’s gonna happen in a bookshop, Red."
That crease in the middle of his forehead returns. "'S my job to plan for the worst. Keeping you safe is the only thing that matters."
"Not the only thing."
His eyebrows rise. "Whaddya talking about? 'Course it is."
You look at your joined hands. This is bad. This is really, really bad. You'd might as well pull your heart out of your chest and let Hood carry that too.
You start to walk, fingers slipping out of his. Hood doesn't try to rejoin them.
He stays closer in here, close enough that you can talk quietly and smell his apple pie scent.
"What do you like to read?" you ask.
Hood glances at you. "Clocked that about me, did you?"
"I was taught by the best," you say sweetly.
He hums. Doesn't joke or laugh. Just makes a soft sound. It's not often you render him speechless.
"I loved Frankenstein as a kid. I always hoped he'd love his monster, but..."
Hood disappears for a moment, lost in his head. You take his hand, heart be damned.
"Red?"
He looks at you again. His eyes are wild. Sometimes, it seems like they glow.
"My... my dad used to read it to me," he says. "One time I asked if he'd love the monster anyway. He promised he would."
You rub his knuckles. He flinches, like he's forgotten where he is. 
"Someone's devotion to our monstrous parts is something we all want," you say.
You spend more time in the bookstore. Hood attracts a few stares, like always, but you're left alone. He carries your shopping without complaint, without strain, and you wonder if your friend was right, if this is just a job.
You buy a special edition of Frankenstein under his attention. Then you turn around and hand him the book. He keeps it under his arm.
"Ready to head back? Y'hungry?"
"That's for you," you say.
"Hm? What is?"
"The book. It's for you, Red."
Silence. The second time that you've stunned the words out of him. You're on a roll.
"Y'don't have to do that," he says, gentle as can be.
"It's a present for you. A thank you."
Hood shakes his head. "You don't need to thank me for protecting you. Just doing my job."
"I'm thanking you for being my friend. Because... you are, right? My friend?"
This time, Hood's eyes on you are heavy. You wonder if he can see your heart beating, see your belly fluttering, see the real reason why you get nervous around him.
"Yeah, trouble," he says, book cradled to his chest like it's precious cargo. "I'm yours."
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thisonehere · 5 months
Text
Kharacters reacting to you opening your eyes after they assumed you died
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C/w: Angst, mentions of blood and physical assault, afab reader
Kitana
The battle had finally met its end, Kitana was able to push back the army of Shao to the point of retreat. A smile spread across her face at this victory... but this smile soon faded as she noticed something: she didn't see you anywhere.
"Y/n!" She called, expecting to see among her ranks. But you weren't there.
Kitana's heart began to race as she started to look this way and that for you, but you weren't anywhere to be seen.
With a hard swallow, she turned and started to search among the bodies of the dead soldiers.
She paused and rolled over the dead bodies, hoping that you weren't one of them.
Then she saw it, she saw your mangled body lying broken in the mass of other bodies.
During the battle, you found General Shao, or he had found you, either way, it left you in this condition...and he.... he...did this to you
"No..." Kitana bellowed as she went to her knees beside you.
Kitana has seen a lot of things, done a lot of things, but seeing your brutalized body...it-it just made her sick to her stomach.
She bowed her head and took your hand as she began to make a silent prayer for your soul. As she did, she began to blame her
You had initially wanted to stay in Sun Do, but she convinced you to come and fight. Now you're here, in this shape. If it wasn't for her, you'd be safe at home.
She thinks of the life you could have had if only you never came here. She even begins to question what your life would have been like if you never crossed paths with her.
Before she can finish her revere and her prayer, your eyes snap open.
Kitana lifted her head, and a slight gasp exited her mouth.
You attempt to move but only howl in pain at your injuries. Kitana's grip on your hand tightens "Stay still," she instructs, "We're going to find you help" She assures. This settles you down, her words are surprisingly calm to you.
Though your condition is severe, Kitana can't help but smile to herself at knowing you're alive. She wants to yell at you, scold you for being so reckless in going against Shao without her. But she cannot. She is just so overwhelmed with relief that you are okay.
Bi-Han
As grand-master of the Lin Kuei, Bi-Han had many duties to fulfill. But when evening finally fell and he had completed all his tasks, he had one thing that he was forward to: spending time with you. After the great betrayal that his brother and Tomas did to him, you stood by his side no matter what and for that he was truly grateful for.
He approached your room door and gently knocked it, hoping not to startle you. "Y/n, my beloved, may I come in?" he asked.
Bi-Han waited for a response, but none came. Just silence. Bi-Han was confused, normally you would have responded by now.
He knocked again, once again with no response.
Bi-Han couldn't lie, he was getting slightly concerned, almost afraid. This wasn't like you at all. Were you giving him the silent treatment? What did he do? Is there a way he could fix things?
His patience eventually wears thin and he kicks down the door. And there he sees you lying on the ground, in a pool of your own blood.
Bi-han felt his heart drop and his blood stop as he sees you. His eyes began to dart around the room and he saw the window open, by force by the looks of it. An assassin. Did his brother send them? It doesn't matter, not right now.
He rushes to your bleeding corporeal and picks you up. He doesn't know what to do, how long were you like this? He panics and lays you on the bed. He calls for a guard "Bring a medic, NOW!". With a nod they rush away.
For the next passing moments, all Bi-Han can do is stare at your body. He shakes his head as anger begins to build up within him.
He had so many plans and things he wanted to do with you. He wanted to place a ring on your finger, hold his first-born with you, hold you tight as you slept in his bed. He also knew you yourself had plans for the future, and now it is all gone. Something that will never be.
He sits on the bed and holds you tight in his arms. Your perfume fills his nostrils, a cruel mocking of what could have been.
He looks at you face, you look so beautiful and peaceful even in this state. He wanted to kiss it, but he realized that instead he will have to bury it.
You eyes splinter open all of a sudden.
Bi-Han lets out a sigh, he hadn't even noticed he was holding his breath.
You twist in pain, disoriented by what's happening. A sharp pain shoots through your body. "Don't move." He says, holding you tight. A surprisingly cool and warm sensation springs from his body into yours providing a slight comfort.
Bi-Han was relieved, he felt his heart slow down. He heard the guard and the medic coming this way and they would see him holding you. But he couldn't care less, all that mattered to him now was that you would be okay.
Raiden
Today's training at the Wu Shi Academy was nearly overwhelming, but Raiden couldn't but find it very rewarding. He was not excited for the next part of his day: seeing you.
He quickly gathered together as many flowers as he could find (he couldn't remember what you said your favourite was) and hardly made his way to your personal chambers.
He went to the door and raised his hand to knock. But he hesitated. Was now a good time? He didn't want to bother you. Did you even want to see him.
Finally finding the courage, he knocks lightly on the door. No response.
He knocked again, slightly harder. Once again there was no response. Raiden was starting to feel embarrassed, he turned to leave.
Raiden shook his head and turned back to the door. He was going to leave for Outworld soon, this could be one of the few times he could see you. He knocks on the door much harder this time.
The door slowly creaked open. Raiden then finally noticed that the door looked like it was kicked open, the lockset was knocked out of place.
Raiden felt his heart begin to race, he hesitantly entered your room and found it was a mess. It was filled with shattered glass on the floor, dents in the wall, and some splotches of blood here and there. It looks like a struggle has taken place.
Okay, now he was really concerned.
Raiden rushed in, "Y/n!" he called.
Turning the corner, he finds your body lying there on the floor close to your bedroom. You had a blood trail behind you, you were trying to crawl away. Either from your attacker or to get help. It didn't matter now though.
Raiden felt his heart stop, and he fell to his knees beside you. "By the Elder Gods, who did this to you?" he asked, his voice beginning to shake.
Who would want to do this to you, he thought, what monster would want to hurt such a warm, kind, smart, beautiful creature like you?
He felt his eyes burn, from both tears beginning to form as well as electricity beginning to crackle around his eyes. He didn't even have control over this, all he saw was red. He was usually a gentle person, but he felt something dark come over him here and now.
"I'll find them," He promised "I'll find them, I'll-I'll kill them!" His voice, though calm, had an air of intensity around. Seeing you like this brought the dark out of him that he tried so hard to suppress. But he could care less about it, not right now at least.
Without a warning, your eyes break open. Raiden felt the lightning in his eyes vanish. His anger subsided by surprise and relief.
You wheeze and twist in agony. You feel your broken lungs crunch as you try to speak to him, tell him everything.
Raiden shushes you as he gently takes your hand. "It's okay, Y/n, we'll figure this all out later. Now, we're going to help you."
His finger glimmered with a gentle electricity. he hadn't ever really tried to heal with his amulet before, but for now, for you, he was willing to try.
As he began to work on you, he shivered as he reflected on what happened to him. It felt like he had become a completely different person. A much darker person, a dark Raiden.
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luveline · 10 months
Note
I would love the reader flinching during a fight blurb (I think u did it with James and Steve) but with eddie! Only if u want of course
thank u for ur request, hope this is okay, 1k fem!reader
cw mentioned past abuse/abusive situation, please read with care!
Eddie doesn't do anything to provoke your reaction, obviously, and if he did it would've been accidentally. He only raises his voice and puts down his keys too hard at the same time on the table, barely looking at you as the argument reaches a crescendo. 
The sound catches you off guard. Your arms leap in toward your chest and your head turns to the side, defending yourself from a blow that would never come from him. Nausea floods your system, and no sooner have you flinched than you're covering your mouth to smother it. 
"Holy–" Eddie takes a step back initially, but he quickly closes the space between you to take your elbow. You force your arm out of his grip. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" 
"I thought you were gonna throw your keys at me," you start to explain, reaching for him. "I–"
"I would never do that." 
"I know," you say, blinking and straightening up your hunched back, "that's not– I know you wouldn't, but the noise…" 
"Sorry," he says tightly. 
You take a deep breath and feel embarrassment like a rushing wave hit you, ice cold, your hands covering your face for a moment to get air in right. You peek at him through your fingers. "No, I'm sorry," you say, "what were you saying?" 
"It really doesn't matter. Were you scared of me?" he asks, sounding terrified. 
"No. I mean– I mean," —his expression dampens further at your stammering— "I flinched because it was loud." 
"You said you thought I was going to throw my keys at you–" 
"Because I did think that. It was only for a second." 
"Somebody chucked shit at you enough you started expecting it?" Eddie asks, his terror melded into something much worse. He frowns at you, an imploring pinch to his eyebrows as he rubs your upper arm. 
"Eddie, I don't wanna talk about it." 
"You don't?" he asks. 
"Why would I want to talk about that? It's so fucking embarrassing." 
Eddie takes your arms into both hands gently. "Pause on our fight. Or forget it." He ducks his head to meet your eyes, his lashes like half diamonds, long and dark and emphasising the browned honey colour of his irises. "It's not embarrassing. It's not embarrassing. I'm sorry it felt like I could throw them at you, but I wouldn't." 
"I know." You sound more annoyed than he deserves. 
"Yeah?" he asks gently. 
You try to calm down. Chill out. "I know you wouldn't. It wasn't like that, it's just 'cos we don't fight and it was instinctive. Like a yawn." 
Heartbreak blossoms on his face. You hate it at first, thinking he feels sorry for you, but then things slow. Your heart rate, your adrenaline. For the first time since you started arguing a few minutes ago, breath comes easily to you. Eddie waits for your cue, his hands sliding down to take a loose hold on your fingers. 
It shouldn't be instinctive to expect pain during a verbal disagreement. His face says as much.
"I swear, sweetheart, I wouldn't," he murmurs. 
You start to cry when you realise you believe him. Of course you know he wouldn't, but you could've said that before about someone else. And he's asking you if you wanna talk about it like you should, and you say you don't but of course you do —you want him to tell you it'll never happen again. That it was undeserved. 
Eddie's rough around the edges but his hands are always nice. He sews your fingers between his and squeezes weakly. 
"Somebody threw stuff at you?" he asks, eyes darting down your cheek, following a heavy tear.
"It's okay," you say. 
"I'm supposed to be telling you that. Shit, c'mere." He pulls you in for a hug. "This is okay, right? I don't wanna make you feel worse." 
"It's fine." You sniffle into his shoulder. "It's fine, I don't know why I'm upset." 
"I thought you were gonna throw up, baby. I didn't mean to make you feel like that, I shouldn't have started shouting. I wouldn't have. If I knew, I wouldn't have. I shouldn't have." 
You cling tighter. 
"Sorry," he says, kissing your forehead, his voice all closed up like he's upset. 
You shudder as you inhale, your body's attempt at regulating, and press your nose into his neck until it hurts. If it hurts him, he doesn't say, but you readjust in case it does. 
"What happened?" Eddie asks. 
"It's shitty, Eds. You don't wanna hear it." 
"Yeah, I do. Anything that happened to you that warrants that sort of reaction is something I want to know about, not just 'cos I have tires I need to slash–" He audibly winces. "Or, like, an angry letter to write." 
"You can slash tires. It's not like that, I don't think you're violent, baby." 
"Good. I wanna know what made you feel that way because that's stuff that happened to you, and I love you. I don't want you carrying that by yourself. And," —he drops his cheek toward his shoulder, smiling At you tentatively— "I don't ever wanna make you flinch again." 
"It's not your fault." 
"It's not yours, either. None of that shit was your fault." 
Eddie rubs your back until it feels weird, your skin almost raw under the constant back and forth, but it's a steadying touch that you don't want to go without. You tell him the gist of things without crying anymore, and if you need to do it with your eyes pressed to his shoulder he doesn't say a word. 
He has some assurances to make you. How loved you are. How the last thing in the world you deserved was a raised hand. You've never heard him speak that sincerely for that long, but you need every word. When you think he might get sick of comforting you, he props you on the couch. 
"Tell me if I'm being too much," he says, wrapping you up in a one-sided hug. 
You feel safe and sound under his arm, pressing a kiss to a blown out tattoo. "Not too much," you murmur. 
Eddie pulls your head to his lips for a peck nestled lovingly beside your eyebrow. 
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toxicanonymity · 8 months
Note
i need more raider joel more than i need air in my lungs
Night air.
3500 words, raider!Joel x f!reader | ✨gif
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Raider master list ⭐ Joel master
reader-curated playlist | sweet pea (smut songs)
“‘s’too cold out here, sweet pea. put on a shirt, would ya?" Your heart flutters at the implicit invitation and you return with a flannel over your nightie. . . He makes room for you, but doesn’t take his eyes off the fire as he lets you climb into his lap. You study his face and see something new flickering behind it. Worry.
You want to ask him what’s wrong, but you don’t.  "When are you gonna come to bed?” you ask instead.
SUMMARY: Joel brutalizes a bad guy, gives it to you hard, then works on something for you and gives it to you slow. His POV is revealing. WARNINGS: I8+, POV alternates, ANGST, Joel's trauma, overkill violence, dubcon (stockholm syndrome) unsafe P in V x2 (hard then soft), dark fluff, f masturbation, somnophilia, staying inside, NO Y/N. A/N: ty @milla-frenchy for Qs & recs 🖤
—--- JOEL——
Yeah, Joel killed two of his own men, and they had it coming.  He caught them red handed on their way into your room in the stash house. It still makes his blood boil to think about. If they hadn’t walked into that room talking about you like a piece of meat, those two men would be alive. Joel would do it again in a heartbeat.  
He’s not surprised when the others are shaken, but if they’re good men, they have nothing to worry about.  When things remain tense longer than he expects, Joel rounds them up for a group meeting. He puts you in the usual room with his trusted guard Carter posted at the door.  The meeting becomes heated. 
“No one’s gonna be left at this rate,” one man barks.  “They ain’t gonna say it,” he gestures behind him to the other men, “but I will. She shouldn’t be here.” 
Joel’s voice raises with his blood pressure. He asks, “What’d you say to me, Harold?" as he stands up. 
Louder, maybe loud enough for you to hear, Harold repeats, “She shouldn’t be here.  It’s bound to happen.” Bound to happen? These low-lifes are bound to put their hands on Joel Miller’s girl? Joel can feel the beat of his rage in his veins. All his muscles tense. 
He takes a deep breath, exhales sharply, then says matter-of-factly, “I’ll show ya what else is bound to happen.” 
Joel picks up his rifle. 
"Yeah, kill me," Harold chides. "Kill us all."
Joel shakes his head no. His voice is deep and flat.  "Not until ya beg me to." Now he’s gotta make an example out of someone. 
Joel forces Harold outside, then puts his rifle behind his back and lets Harold take a swing at him, just for fun.  When Joel gets this wound up, he needs to feel something. After getting clocked square in the jaw, Joel beats him until he’s barely conscious. Then, Joel hoists Harold, who is not a light man, and impales him on a sharp, severed fence post. 
Joel puts his rifle around front again, leaving Harold alive but doomed, and heads back toward the house.  He’s almost to the door when Harold manages to groan through his gurgles.  Joel turns around, calmly raises his rifle, shoots him in the head, then keeps walking. He goes back inside, chest heaving, wiping blood splatter off his face with his wrist. The rest of them are still inside. No one came to Harold's defense or ran. Joel stares down the men, and based on the faces he sees, he’s not worried about any of them.  
“Rest of ya got nothin’ to worry ‘bout,” he reassures them. “long as ya leave her ‘lone.” 
The men nod. Joel thinks about adding, and I’m not the only one you’ve gotta worry about, tempted to warn them that you know your way around a pistol and can handle yourself. One bullet, right between the eyes of that fucker. Joel thinks about it all the time. There’s something about his little sweet pea being a badass. And thank god, because he almost lost you. 
“Now back to business.” 
They discuss the rival crew they think sent two guys to Joel’s trailer, only for Joel and you to kill them. Joel doesn't think the crew is stupid enough to cause any more trouble, but agrees someone has to keep watch Just in case. 
Joel almost reminds his men that he holds all the smuggling routes and contacts, just in case they’re concerned enough to pull something.  But he doesn't need to say it. He dismisses them and grabs a duffle bag before collecting you from Carter. Carter asks what to do with Harold, and Joel says leave him for a while.
When the two of you get back to his trailer, Joel is ready to fuck out his anger. He sees himself in the mirror, chest heaving, veins about to pop, blood splatter on his hairline. God damnit, Harold. Joel  showers because he doesn’t want any part of Harold getting close to you. Not even his blood. 
You’re in the kitchen getting a glass of water when Joel walks out of the bathroom in just a towel.  He crosses the kitchen, drops the towel, and pins you against the counter, pressing his hardness against your ass. He backs up enough to scrunch up your dress and growls, "good girl," when he finds you panty-less and wet. You knew. You were ready for it. 
He grunts as he shoves himself into you, and he gives it to you good. "No one’s," he thrusts, "gonna," he grunts "touch ya." He plunges into you twice more, breathing heavily, then adds, “but me.” The power of his hips sends you to your toes with each thrust. He wraps an arm around you to hold you steady and watches over your shoulder as your tits jiggle with each punch of his hips. It doesn’t take you long to come.  Then he curls his hands under your arms to hold your shoulders down from the front and begins to pulse with a low groan. He leans his head against yours and cradles it from the other side as he catches his breath, then asks, “you good?”
You nod, “mm-hmm,” and he pulls out, feeling better. 
“Good.” 
-
In the following days, things settle down in Joel’s group and get back to normal. The rival crew doesn't show up.
—--
One night, Joel leaves you inside the trailer while he sits out by the fire, as he often does.  What you don't know is that he's not just sitting, drinking, and thinking.  He’s working on something.  He’s been making things for you. He hasn’t given you anything because nothing’s good enough, and it’s probably not going to get any better, but he keeps doing it.  Sometimes he feels a little silly, but they’re things that will help both of you.  Practical things. 
He made a thigh holster for your gun. There was an old one without the straps in the weapons cache which is just a small room of chaos in the stash house, no telling what else is in there.  He used part of a belt for the top strap and some black ribbon on the bottom, for the time being.  It would be better than nothing, but he hasn't given it to you in case it wouldn’t work. Maybe it doesn't matter. As the weather changes, you'll probably need new clothes, anyway. Maybe even pants, he internally grumbles. Sweaters, too, so your chest won’t be exposed. 
Tonight, Joel has another strap of leather with him, one that wasn't right for the holster. He also has a pot of water and a steel nail with a makeshift handle so he doesn’t burn himself. He heats up the tool and uses the hot nail head to emboss the strap with bold letters. He’s been working on it all week, and he’s only on ‘E.’ It’ll be first name only at this rate. You might not wanna wear it anyway, but it’s for your own good.  
Joel’s almost lost you twice now. If there’s anything he can do to make someone think twice about touching or taking you, he’ll do it. Because Jackson, may he burn in hell, was right. Joel can’t have his eyes on you every single second. He's told you before: you tell’em you belong to Joel Miller. They’ll back right off when they hear it.  But it doesn’t hurt for them to see it, too. And of course Joel wouldn't mind seeing it himself. 
Joel’s fingers are too big for work this small.  He accidentally makes the vertical line of the E slanted. Ah hell, this whole thing is no good anyway. You may never see it at this rate. But it feels good working with his hands, especially on something he thinks could help keep you safe and keep you his. You're a good girl, his good girl. 
He should be thinking strategy, what’s going to happen with these warring crews, but that’s just not where his head’s at.   
—--- YOU 🌸🫛—-----
You listen to the fire crackle and pop, longing for Joel to come to bed, longing for him to hold you, and more.  He seems to stay outside longer than usual. When he adds a new log to the fire, you get impatient and decide to go out. You put on your shoes and go to the door, pushing it open just an inch. The rail to the stairs is blocking your view, but he's looking down at something. His jaw clenches in the firelight and he raises his eyebrows as he looks up.  You slowly open the door, stepping out onto the stairs in your nightie.  He puts something down on the ground, out of view.  
“‘s’too cold out here, sweet pea. put on a shirt, would ya?" Your heart flutters at the implicit invitation and you return with a flannel over your nightie.  As you approach, he takes a swig of whiskey and puts the flask down.  His eyes are dark as he watches the flames.  He makes room for you but doesn’t take his eyes off the fire as he lets you climb into his lap. You study his face and see something new flickering behind it. Worry. You want to ask him what’s wrong, but you don’t. 
"When are you gonna come to bed?” you ask. 
His brows knit as he looks at you. For a few seconds, he concentrates on picking lint off the flannel and smoothing your nightgown. 
“I dunno, sweet pea. Got some stuff to figure out.”  
“Can I help?”
He shakes his head no. You put your arms around his neck and rest your cheek against his shoulder. Then you slowly roll your face against him so your lips touch his warm skin and your nose rests on top of his shoulder muscle.  You close your eyes and stay like that for a moment.  He doesn’t stop you. Then you dare to press your lips ever so slightly into his skin before pulling your face back to look at him, your lips disconnecting with a barely perceptible smack. Joel’s still looking at the fire, but he allows himself a subtle smile as he exhales a silent laugh, then cradles your head.  “Go to bed, sweet pea.” He kisses your temple. “I’ll be there in a li’l bit.” 
You take the flannel off and get in bed, still smelling like the fire. You think of getting naked, eager to feel Joel however he wants you. But maybe he likes undressing you, and it’s chillier than normal, too.  You lay under the covers getting wet and tingly thinking about what he'll do when he comes to bed.  
The fire is still blazing.  There’s no sign of him putting it out.  It doesn't seem like he's coming in soon, but you're too turned on to just go to sleep. You close your eyes, recalling the feeling of Joel’s warm skin on your lips by the fire.  The way his eyes sparkled. The way he always opens his arms for you to get in his lap–that seat is always yours whenever you want it. 
You think about how handsome he is. Even, or especially when he’s looking rough.  All dirty and beat up when he got home that one night, muscles pumped up. His sexy stitches. You play a montage in your head of all the times you’ve heard him yell, seen him stomp around ordering guys to do this or that. How fiercely he protects you. Your lip creeps under your teeth and you close your eyes. 
All the way turned on, you slide your hand down between your legs and imagine him walking in and ravaging you.  You recall how urgently he fucked you at the kitchen table after he thought you almost died.  You recall the time he fucked you naked in missionary and and marked your neck.  You try to visualize the look in his eyes.
And then, when you’re just about to come, you remember that one morning. Those few seconds you kissed, when he kissed you back. He had pulled you into him before he knew what he was doing. You still savor that fleeting moment he was grinding against you, his plush lips locked with yours. You can practically feel it.  And that’s enough to put you over the edge. You turn your head into the pillow and brace for your orgasm. 
—----- JOEL —------
You must think Joel can't hear your pretty little sounds when you touch yourself, but over the crackling of the fire he could swear he hears you moan into a pillow. His nose can't help but twitch into a little smile. He lets the fire die as he finishes the 'E',  then he comes inside and washes off the smoke in the shower. By the time he gets in bed, you're asleep on your back with your left arm on your chest. 
He carefully gets into the bed, spreading his weight out to not jostle the mattress. He's to your left, lying on his side, facing you. You’re so pretty and peaceful with your eyes closed and your sweet lips just slightly parted. An urge has been growing in his chest. He’s tried to push it away, but it's only grown, and he's afraid he can’t stop it happening. 
He can’t bring himself to do it when you’re awake. He can’t let himself see how happy it makes you. The loss feels inevitable, and it gets closer and closer.  The panic he felt when FEDRA had you on the ground.  The devastation when it sounded like you were shot outside his own trailer. It gets worse every time. And last time, there was something new. Two losses flashed before his eyes.  The loss of you (in the present and future), and the loss of what could have been–at least for a while, when he had the chance. The worst part is, he doesn't know which would hurt more.  
His eyes fall on your mouth again. 
If he does it now, it won’t mean anything. It won’t change anything. If he does it now, maybe this urge will stop pulling at him every time you’re close.  And then he can tell himself it never happened. Yeah, if he does it now, it can be like it never happened. Like he never let himself get that close, never gave you hope that he could be anything more than the terrible man he is. 
His lip twitches as he watches you sleep.  Then his breathing syncs with yours, and for a moment, everything fades away but you and him and the physical need that's tugging at him.  
Joel leans over you, careful not to wake you, and he hovers over your pretty face. It's happening. His heart races as his face drifts toward yours, drawn to you like a magnet. 
He closes his eyes, presses his lips gently into yours, and something rushes through his blood to every part of his body.  Fuck.  He's instantly soothed. With your lips still locked, he takes one breath through his nose then pulls away. He takes a deep breath, expecting the buzz to fade, expecting to hate himself. But you're so pretty and your lips were so soft. He almost chokes on his own saliva.  He's quickly gotten hard.
Still fast asleep, you sigh and your nose twitches. You hum the prettiest little "mm," and roll over on your right, facing away from him like you normally sleep. 
He pinches his eyes shut tight. He has to have you. 
Joel curls himself around you, inhales your hair, and cups your breast. He presses his cock against you, hardening to full strength by now.  He lets out a deep but quiet, "Mmm," not enough to wake you up. The exposed skin of your back and shoulder is so inviting, he's salivating. His arm slides from your breast down your nightie to your mound and you sigh. He lifts his head to see if you're awake as he aimlessly caresses you over your nightie. Your brow furrows with his light touch. Aw, sweet pea, he thinks to himself. You're just so cute. He presses a gentle kiss into your neck where it meets your shoulder, and he begins to ghost your clit through the fabric. 
You sigh again, but still don't seem to wake up yet. He presses your mound so your hips tilt for him, and he pulls up the nightgown. He tests you with a finger and finds you wet but pulls back and pauses to add saliva to his tip.  He teases your entrance with his cock, and you sigh "Mmm, Joel," as you begin to stir awake. He pushes the curve of his tip just slightly inside, then holds your breast. 
He asks, “You 'wake?” 
“Mmm,” you answer weakly. 
"wake you up?" His cock prods at your tight, wet entrance, pushing in a little further.. He's itching to be inside you, but he's taking his time, captivated by your peacefulness. 
Your spine arches and you push back on him, taking another inch of his cock in with a moan as you stir awake. "Joel,” you sigh. 
He presses his lips into your neck and lets them linger.  You ask, "are you awake?" 
"Mm-hmm," he answers, his voice deep and gravely.  He groans softly as he pushes his cock into you. He takes a deep breath as your insides make room for him. It dawns on him that he's never taken the time to savor the moment your bodies are joined, but shit, it feels good. He didn't know it could feel so good like this. He’s feeling every groove of you in slow motion. Each centimeter of you greets him with a tight, warm hug.  You push back on him with a moan, bringing your bodies together. 
Oh, sweet pea. You want it so bad, and you take it so good.
—---YOU 🌸🫛—---
Joel’s cock spreads you apart and he buries his length in you slowly at first, palming your breasts. He pauses, all the way inside you, and removes your nightie so your naked bodies are flush. It feels like a dream. The way he kissed your shoulder, the way he’s fucking you right now with his whole body cradling yours, each thrust so deliberate, you can’t help but still wonder if he’s truly awake. If you're truly awake. He grunts softly each time he bottoms out. His sighs and moans are deep and gravely. 
“Sweet pea,” he whispers against your neck, “ohhhh, you — ohh, you take it so good, baby.” His hand slides down your stomach, between your legs. He whispers in your ear,  "God DAMN, youfeelsogood,” he inhales sharply, then sighs your name.  Your nipples harden and you get goosebumps. 
“Joel,” you whimper at his fingers on your clit.  The fullness of his cock was enough, and the addition of his hand has you twitching already.  
“Shhh, it’s okay,” he whispers, and his voice is so soothing, you relax again. He slows down his pace, his length sliding snugly into your warmth slow enough to feel the drag of his tip inside you. He touches your clit and you whimper again. He adjusts his hand to touch it less directly, pulsing his flattened fingers.  That’s what you need. You moan. 
“Good girl.” 
You wanna ask him again if he’s really awake, but you don’t want to break the spell. You let the silence linger, peppered with moans and sighs from each of you. You’d love for this to last forever. You love every way he gives it to you, but the newness of this is something to savor. After a few minutes, sweat begins to bead and run between your bodies.  You’re both breathing heavily. He gropes at your breasts and the entire front of your body, like he can’t get you close enough. His breathing gets ragged.  You memorize the feel of his cock dragging thick and slow inside you.  Then he adds his hand again. His thrusts become more powerful.  “Come for me, I want you to– nnngh.” 
“Joel,” you whine. 
‘Ohh,” he moans. 
“Joel, I’m–”
“Go ‘head, baby—ugghh—-you can do it”
Your upper back presses into his chest.  He groans and holds you tight as you convulse against him and choke his cock with your climax. “Ohhhh, baby, mmmm.” He bottoms out and pulses inside you as you’re still coming.  He sighs "ohhh," as he fills you up with his warm release. Your body hugs him more with every pulse of his cock.  
When you’re both finished coming, your bodies are still joined. You relish the fullness of him inside you.  You expect him to pull out any minute, but his breathing regulates with yours. 
At some point, Joel's breath stutters abruptly, and you realize he's fallen asleep like this. Holding you close, body curled around you, cock gradually softening inside you. It isn't long until you drift off, too. 
-
Smut continues here: asleep inside
Next major chapter: hunger
-
Thank you so much for reading and engaging. Please consider commenting or reblogging to show raider Joel your love, even if this post is old. 💖 Love you guys. I love your passion for him. Your engagement motivates me. <333
Friendly reminder that there will be no pregnancy in this fic, Joel was snipped pre outbreak. 
----
@toxicfics for notifications, make sure your phone is set to enable push notifications from tumblr. Some of my fics are pretty dark!
⚠️ Since so many people are saying tags aren't working, I may discontinue the tag list soon, sorry ⚠️
All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading
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xiao-come-home · 22 days
Note
Thinking about how one of Boothill’s skills being called sizzlin tango…okay. okay . yeah . what if I want to dance with him . what if he has some smooth moves, what if he wants to catch you off guard by dipping you down while his free hand runs up your thigh okay what sure totally normal ahahah
ANON YOU HAVE AWOKEN THE BEAST WITHIN ME
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Yes yes!! Boothill would LOVE to dance with you and absolutely steal the show!! You can't dance? it's absolutely fine, he'll lead you and you only need to follow him. God he FOR SURE has smooth moves, even if you don't have much experience, it's barely noticeable.
Boothill definitely loves dancing, mostly because of the closeness - he wants to have his hand on you at all times. He wants to touch you, and will touch you. Dancing gives him an opportunity to do just that - hands, waist, chest to chest, it doesn't even matter what dance it is, he's already dragging you onto the middle of the room and asks you for a dance.
The closeness can make him feel dizzy, it feels like he's about to go crazy when he has you almost face to face, the familiar scent of your skin reaching his nose, Boothill bites his lip to prevent just absolutely ditching the entire idea and kissing you right here.
Don't even mention Boothill touching your thigh when he dips you down, good lord save us all, he knows what he's doing. He grins at you when he feels the smooth skin when he glides his hand up your thigh, teasing the fabric of your underwear with his fingers.
He also likes to twirl you. No reason for this, he just thinks it's cute - perhaps when you greet or just because he felt it. When you face him again, he presses a sweet kiss on your cheek, intertwining and squeezing your hands together.
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hairmetal666 · 8 months
Text
Eddie's supposed to be writing. The guys, they all agreed they'd each come to practice armed with two whole new songs they could pick from to add to their set list at the Hideout. And he's got his pen, and he's got his most recent trusty Composition Book, and all his lyrics are fucking bullshit about golden tanned skin and honeyed eyes and tracing constellations in freckles and moles, pathetic lines about being twisted in bed sheets, and the hopeless love he found himself in.
For the fifth time in an hour, he rips out the offending page, crunches it into a tight ball, and throws it across the room.
He can't write about Steve Harrington for the rest of his life; spend his nights aching for the boy who established himself as a fixture in Eddie's life and then just disappeared.
The worst of it--the very worst--is that Eddie knew better. Steve was never his, not in any real way, no matter how many times they fucked. He's Steve Harrington. Straightest guy in Hawkins. Popular. Rich. Whole fucking life laid out for him on a silver platter. And Eddie fell for him. It's the Munson curse, he supposes; always wanting what you can't have.
It started the way these things usually do, "got any weed?" and "come back to my place, Harrington" and "I got this stupid job at the mall, meet me there?" and lying "hey, guys, can't make band practice, gotta help Uncle Wayne" and "Munson, I really want--can I kiss you?"
In every other fantasy Eddie's ever had, it ends there. Steve gets his kiss and they never see each other again. But Steve Harrington--he's full of surprises. It catches Eddie off guard, makes him want, makes him trust. Because it's not just kisses. It's hands and mouths and "anything you want, Eddie. Let me make you feel good."
Maybe it wouldn't have hit so hard--maybe Eddie could've stopped from falling--if Steve hadn't been so good. Bitchy, sure, but genuine and kind. Had this whole gaggle of junior high kids he babysat, like what the fuck. Would hang out with Wayne and shoot the shit about whatever sports nonsense was on tv. Harrington never was as mean, as spoiled, as superficial as Eddie suspected.
Then Starcourt. That's when it all changes. Steve stops coming around then, in the aftermath. It hurts, but Eddie tells himself it's for the best. Now, he knows it would have been.
Two weeks with no contact, and Steve shows up at his door in the middle of the night. Eddie winces at the healing bruises and cuts on his face, can't imagine how much worse they were to start. He steps aside, lets Steve in, plans to say that he can't be whatever they are anymore.
Steve kisses him. It's a hot, needy thing, wild with teeth and tongue, nothing like before. Eddie is helpless to it, helpless to the way Steve grinds against him, already hard. He should slow it down, check-in that Steve is in the right headspace for this, but Steve is moaning low in his throat and Eddie can't think.
They're in Eddie's bed and Steve says, "fuck me, Eddie?" and Eddie says "are you sure" because he can't stop himself. Steve rolls his eyes (beautifuly bitchy), says, "I need to feel you inside me, baby."
How can Eddie say no?
Eddie's never done this before, but it doesn't matter. It's everything--Steve is everything--he could ask for.
The next morning, he expects Steve to be gone. Thinks they'll never see each other again. But he finds Steve in the kitchen, in his boxers and Eddie's Iron Maiden shirt, making eggs and talking to Wayne like it's the most normal thing in the world.
The next month and a half are the best of Eddie's life. He and Steve spend more time together than they do apart. Nights at Eddie's trailer, in Eddie's bed. Days lounging at the Harrington pool and driving around the nothing that surrounds Hawkins. Sometimes they'll stop in the middle of nowhere, climb on top of the van, and just--be. Steve takes his shirt off, and Eddie traces their names in the sun-soaked freckles, thinking maybe he really gets to have this, have Steve.
It ends as quickly as it started. One morning in September, Steve is cupping Eddie's neck, pulling him in for a goodbye kiss, saying, "sorry, baby, gotta get home for my parents. I'll see you later tonight, yeah?"
Except Eddie doesn't. Eddie doesn't see Steve that night, or the night after, or the night after that. He stops coming around and all Eddie is left with is a broken heart and these piss poor excuses for songs.
He rips out the latest page, waxing lyrical about the wonders of August, and time slipping away, and the boy he'll never forget. Crumples it into a ball and bats it into a pile of junk accumulated in the corner of his room.
Eddie needs a break.
He flies into the living room, snatches up his keys from the floor by the coffee table, and flees his house and all those memories of Steve. It's not like he has anywhere specific to go, so he drives around town, with his windows down and his music up.
His tires screech as he rounds the corner to the video store and arcade. He's not planning on stopping, but honestly, maybe a few rounds of Space Invaders is exactly what he needs.
The van hasn't even come to a stop in the parking spot when his eyes fall on Steve Harrington. He's standing in the middle of the parking lot surrounded by a gang of kids (including some of Eddie's new little sheepies) and Robin Buckley. Steve wears a sunny yellow sweatshirt, tight jeans, and his hair is perfectly coifed, falling in an elegant wave. His hands are on his hips, mouth and brows pinched stern. He's gorgeous, perfect.
It's an assault, an attack, Eddie's entire body shakes as the months they spent together crash over him. He has the van in reverse before he consciously thinks to do so, flooring it out of the space hard enough to burn rubber.
The noise, the speed, it draws the entire group's attention to him.
His eyes meet Steve's.
Time stops and so does he, idling in the middle of the parking lot. For a second, one moment in time, Steve's face falls. His mouth loses that grumpy pinch, his eyebrows drop, his beauty transformed by grief, by fucking longing.
Steve takes a step forward, and Eddie hits the gas, van screaming out of the parking lot. He watches the group shrink in his rearview mirror, sure that he imagined the sorrow in Steve's face, anyway.
They're nothing to each other.
Never were.
By popular request: Part Two
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uravichii · 1 year
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* ੈ✩‧₊* you fell first, but bakugo katsuki fell harder
notes: pls idk what this is ive literally never written anyth like this but ive always wanted to write a fic w/ this prompt,, also im thinking of doing an angst version of this 🤩
genre: fluff, lovesick bakugo + reader flirts w/ him a lot, childhood friends to lovers, tw: BARELY PROOFREAD ‼️
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bakugo katsuki doesn't know anyone who annoys him more than you do.
he doesn't believe he's gotten this far in one piece when he's been stuck with someone like you since childhood. there's something infuriating about the way you tug on the strap of his school bag when both you and his mother are insisting that you walk to school together in the morning. it's even more infuriating when he doesn't know what in the world is fluttering in his chest and churning in his stomach when you start tugging on his sleeve instead.
bakugo katsuki has no idea why and when exactly he started doing it, but now his blood boils watching that dorky smile on your face while he carries your bag to school every morning and on the way home too.
"katsuki." you playfully bump your shoulder against his arm and grin, "you love me, don't you?"
"i'm doing this 'cuz you look like a fucking camel with this bulky ass bag of yours." he scowls, trying to ignore the tiny, tingling spark he felt on the fleck of his skin that met yours for a single second. "what hell is even in this, rocks?"
"is your back hurting? let me give you a back massage then. c'mon, take off your shirt and lie down."
he grimaces, a flush of scarlet spreading from his cheeks to the tip of his ears.
"what?" you chuckle. "you know we've seen each other naked before, right? remember when we used to take baths together as children? i even let you touch my-"
"shut the fuck up, l/n."
it's maddening how easily you fluster him, like it's your second nature. a teasing remark and a single wink, and he's all over the place. all he can do is click his tongue and walk straight ahead of you (though occasionally looking back if you're still with him)
bakugo katsuki tries to counter your flirty remarks. he can do better, he swears he can. a multitude of emotions takes over him when he sees a sliver of your underwear peeking through your clothes. his cheeks flush and his nails bury into his palmsー partly from the thoughts racing relentlessly in his head, and partly out of wrath for anyone who would dare to ogle you or loudly point it out to the whole room.
he stands protectively close behind you like a guard dog, obstructing anyone even a glimpse. he speaks in a low voice you didn't know he was even capable of, his breath grazing your skin. "oi. nice underwear." once again, he's annoyed to the brim hearing that faint tremble in his words.
he's relieved and all the same, flustered, watching you realize and immediately fumbling with your clothes, but no matter how many attempts, no matter how much he swears he can be a match to you and your teasing nature,
"nice? i'll let you borrow if you like it that much then."
you are the only losing game bakugo katsuki has ever been in.
what annoys him even more is that for some reason, he's able to bare his soul to you, in spite of the sheer ugliness, the cruelty of it, and the pathetic, endless heaps of insecurities overflowing from him.
he presses his palms against his face in a futile attempt to muffle out his angry sobs. you brush a hand over his heaving shoulder, "it's gonna be okay, katsuki. i promise." when he doesn't flinch nor pulls away, you gently coax him into a light embrace, your torsos barely touching yet emitting such intoxicating and soothing heat onto each other.
"the fuck are you crying for?" he snaps, confused and concerned as to why you're suddenly sniffling with him.
"i know, it's stupid." you hug him tighter. "i swear i'm not making this about me. i justー i wish i knew how to make you feel better."
'annoying,' he thinks as he hugs your waist and buries his tear-stained face into the crook of your neck. "i'm going to kill you if you tease me about this tomorrow, l/n."
"hey, i don't do that." you whisper comfortingly despite the threat. "you know i won't."
he knows you won't.
most of all, it gets on bakugo katsuki's nerves the most when he remembers you've had genuine, actual romantic feelings for him since you were children, and it's not just fickle banter and incessant flirting here and there.
"shit. your fever's still high." he mutters, pressing his large palm on your forehead. it astounds both of you how it almost covers your whole face. mindlessly, he shifts his palm sweetly to your cheek, tucking in any stray hair out of your face. what in the world have you done to have him wrapped around your little finger like this? you have him buying you medicine and checking your temperature with pure and utter concern, feeding you food he cooked specially for your taste, and holding your perfect little hand just because you asked him to.
"thanks for taking care of me, katsuki."
"you're a pain in the ass, l/n."
katsuki anticipates another joke or a flirty remarkー something about ass most likely, but then you look up at him, widely staring, and you speak in the steadiest voice you could muster, "am i really?"
he doesn't answer.
"can i tell you something?" you continue. there's a pang in katsuki's chest when you slide your hands off of his. "i like you, katsuki. i still do after all these yearsー"
"shut up. that's your fever talking"
"no, this is just me talking. even if i wake up tomorrow and don't remember anything i said to you today, i'll probably end up saying the same thing again someday, and my feelings won't have changed at all."
steering clear of your eyes, katsuki starts rearranging the stacks of medicine on your nightstand and adjusting your blanket when your frail hand latches onto his wrist.
"i just need to know if you're actually uncomfortable with me or if i have absolutely no chance at all, then i'll stop. i'll distance myself from you even. if that's what you want."
he would never forgive you nor himself for it.
you laugh weakly and continue, "and then maybe i'll just date todoroki or somethingー"
"fuck it." he hisses. he swings the blanket over your face so he won't have to bear your gaping eyes when he spits out, "dumbass, i do like you. don't ever do that, jesus."
there's half a minute of silence between you, him still distraught over the mere image of you and todoroki, and you still buried in the blanket, sinking everything in. you pull the sheet slowly until your eyes peek out. it's unbelievely annoying, again, how fucking adorable you are, katsuki thinks.
"you do? since when?" you ask in a tiny voice that will echo in his mind for the rest of the day, he knows it.
"does it matter?"
"no?" you pull the blanket over yourself again.
and then another minute of agonizing silence.
"katsuki?"
"what? you need anything?"
"yeah. kind of."
"what is it?" he starts to panic a little, "tell me." your fever completely slipping his mind in the heat of the moment.
"can you tell me you like me again when i get better? i have a feeling i'll remember this is a fever dream, then i won't stop talking about it to you, and it'll be so embarrassing."
his mouth quirks up into a smirk. "how about this," he pulls the blanket off you and leans slowly, your cheeks flushing even hotter. he brushes his hand against your forehead and gently presses a kiss, his heart in shambles when he catches brief sight of you shutting your eyes tight. "i like you."
you open them again to see a devilish smirk on his face, except it's noticeably much softer than the usual one he wears. he kisses your cheek next, inhaling your scent as he presses his lips against your warm skin, "i like you."
you're a whole mess now. it's the feverish heat spreading across your cheeks as his hand makes its way to yours under the blanket, the close proximity of bakugo katsuki, his scent, the immense heat that gets you dazed and hitches your breath when he props his forehead onto yours. it's the years of closeness and familiarity you've always shared with him, now blooming into something more, like a flower that has just learned to face the sun and bask in the sweet, easy morning air.
"i like you." he says again. maybe he is a match for you after all. "if it's the only way to shut you up. i'll tell it over and over again."
you fell first. bakugo katsuki fell harder, much harder. seeing you escape under the blanket again and squealing when he tries to pull it back down, he doesn't remember what is it that he found so terrifying in falling in love with you.
it's you, after all, isn't it? the most annoying little shit he's always loved.
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femdomlieeh · 2 months
Text
Caramel (m)
Sub!Brat!Sunghoon (ENHYPEN) x Dom!GF!Reader
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WC—4.5 ✧ k
WARNING—jealousy ✧ semi-public masturbation (car, m) ✧ spanking (m!r) ✧ face sitting (f) ✧ degrading ✧ praising ✧ piv ✧ riding ✧ nipple play (f!r) ✧ hair pulling (m!r) ✧ name-calling ✧ pet names (Love, Baby, Mommy) ✧ awkward encounter with Yeonjun from TXT
THEMES—smut ✧ established relationship ✧ fluffy ✧ jealousy ✧ good boy turned bad
NOW PLAYING —I Wanna Be Yours ✧ Arctic Monkeys
A/N. I got some sweet messages of encouragement from readers on both wattpad and tumblr after my last update: thank you! Your words and support motivated me to post this sooner<3
M.LISTS—enhypen ✧ latest updates ✧ read on wp
All rights reserved © femdomlieeh
✧ ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚** ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚** ✧ ੈ ✧
The mall was packed with people. After Valentines some stores had crazy sales on winter collections since the last major winter holiday was over and the desperation to empty the racks full of winter clothes before it was too late was at its highest point. So, you and your valentine Sunghoon decided to go to the mall. Although you knew the winter leftovers weren't always the prettiest and that you likely wouldn't end up purchasing anything, you thought it would be fun to try on some clothes and just walk and talk since you hadn't spent much time together since Valentine's Day. Also, who knows, you might actually find something nice!
"Baby, you're so sweet," you whispered into Sunghoon's ear, kissing his temple after he greeted you with two hot lattes, one matcha and one caramel — he always picked those two drinks partly for the taste, caffeine and warmth but also so when the two of you were halfway finished you could switch cups.
"Everything for you, Love," he gave you the matcha latte, blushing at your little affection since you were in a very public setting. The only type of physical touch he felt comfortable initiating in front of others was holding your hand or a quick hug, otherwise it was you giving him pecks on his cheek, sitting on his lap or petting his head, which he loved no matter how embarrassed he felt in the moment — your attention and affection is precious to him.
"Thank you," you took a sip of the matcha, content worth the content and also because the cup was warming up your cold hands, but you grabbed his hand anyway, preferring that source of warmth.
He knew his ears were probably red now. He loved it when your cold hand stole the warmth from his.
You swung your hands a little as you walked to your favorite boutique, hoping to find something nice on sale or just walk around and look at different clothes together. But before you entered you were surprised to hear your name. Immediately you recognised the voice but Sunghoon was caught off guard. A foreign voice. A happy voice. A man's voice. The two of you turned around and spotted a man who looked like he belonged in a Kdrama. Sunghoon wished he hadn't been distracted by your touch as you led him to the boutique and that he instead dragged you two to a hot pot restaurant on the opposite side of the mall so you wouldn't have run into this perfect man but it was too late.
The demon with a picture perfect smile walked up with open arms to you two. Or to you and not Sunghoon to be specific. The handsome man hugged you in front of Sunghoon. His ears didn't turn pink like Sunghoon's would when he gave you a two second hug in public. And omg you hugged this man back!
He pulled the rude, good-looking male stranger by his coat, gently separating the two of you.
"Who are you, again?" Sunghoon asked, very confused as to why a male he doesn't know would feel comfortable hugging his girlfriend right in front of his face.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I got a little carried away when I saw her," the guy said with a grin, which made Sunghoon clench the fist that was once in your hand.
"My name's Yeonjun. ____ and I have known each other for more than six years now, right?" He said, looking at you, not Sunghoon.
"Yeah, I think it's been five, six years already. Time goes by so fast!"
Sunghoon gulped. He hadn't even known you for half that time.
"And we haven't seen each other in so long!" the so-called Yeonjun went to your side, entering the boutique together. Sunghoon felt his mouth go dry at how Yeonjun referred to the two of you as "we" and walked side by side with you so naturally. This fucking doucheb—
"Yeonjun, this is my boyfriend, Sunghoon," you made sure to introduce them to each other since Yeonjun got too excited and talked too much too fast and forgot to ask for your boyfriend's name (which was very much his character).
"Nice to meet you, Sunghoon," Yeonjun held his hand in front of you to shake Sunghoon's hand.
But your otherwise sweet, polite boyfriend pretended like he didn't see the waiting hand, "Likewise," holding your hand instead.
This was supposed to be his day with you, not handsome Yeonjun's day with you. You were supposed to walk slowly, look around for nothing in particular, arms hooked together (your doing), sipping your lattes until they were half empty so you could switch cups!
The thing is, the two of you were right by the entrance to this boutique heading inside when Yeonjun came so its not like you could pretend you were going to another store to get out of this situation or you would seem rude for blowing him off for no reason, especially since he's been your friend of six years. Or have you two been a thing? Was Yeonjun your friend as in you were in the same class at uni or your friend as in ex who you ended on extremely good terms with or — even worse — was he a "right person, wrong time" type of "friend"? No. He's overthinking it. Surely, you would've told him about all your exes already and Yeonjun's name had never been mentioned. Besides you were a smart person, you wouldn't get into a relationship with Sunghoon if you had feelings for or unfinished business with Yeonjun or anyone else.
But the hug. The way Yeonjun showed you physical touch so easily, no sign of insecurity or blushing. Your comfortable body language, as if you've hugged Yeonjun hundreds of times before.
"Do you remember this?" Yeonjun said, holding up a small pink purse.
"Yes, I do remember," you laughed at the memory.
"What?" Sunghoon looked so lost. You two had inside jokes together!
"After you won a bet, I told you I'd buy you a pink purse one day."
"Yeah. We were stressed kids back," you smiled at the reminiscence. You had gotten a higher score on a test so Yeonjun had promised to buy you whatever you wanted and the first thing you could think of at that time was a pink purse. Since he lost the bet during high school, you didn't expect him to buy it since he didn't have a lot of money and also because it was better to save whatever money he had. But high school was long gone and you hadn't thought of the purse since but Yeonjun remembered.
"Now I have the money to do so..." he continued.
"I already got that same exact purse for her," Sunghoon interrupted before Yeonjun went too far, noticing that was the only pink purse in this section so Yeonjun wouldn't be so rude as to suggest buying another pink purse with another design. Of course, Sunghoon didn't want a handsome man to buy his girlfriend a purse that would remind her of him each time she looked at it — unless that handsome man was Sunghoon, of course.
You looked at Sunghoon after he told the lie, but didn't say anything because he'd also do the same for you if he knew you told a lie to or kept a secret from someone.
"Really? You got her a 30€ purse?"
Now that was rude.
"Well, I really wanted this purse, so the price doesn't really matter," you said, embarrassed your friend would say that to your boyfriend.
"Of course! Of course! If you wanted the purse," Yeonjun tried to save the situation, realizing what he sounded like. He sent a friendly smile at the two of you and started looking through a rail of T-shirts.
After a few minutes of trying to find something that was cute on the sale rack, you called your friend over. "This one would look really good on you, Junnie," you held up a white dress shirt in silk that you found on 30% sale.
"You think so?"
"Yeah, I think you pull off this kind of aesthetic well."
Hm, how do I get her to only look at me? How do I get her to only look at me? How do I get her to only look at-
Sunghoon walked up to the two of you, "Do you wanna switch cups, Love? I know you love caramel latte and it will get cold soon," he held the cup in front of your lips so you could taste it. He was right, you do love caramel latte and it tastes so much better warm. You smiled at him. The way he showed affection without having to touch, but just remembering any little fact about you and being caring always made your heart melt. You lifted the matcha latte cup to his lips, making him taste too and he did, but not without blushing. For a moment he forgot you were in public and he just wanted to lay down, tangle your legs and arms together and with the hot drinks getting cold on the table as a rom-com played in the background forgotten as you just looked at each other and talked and kissed—
"Guys, do you have anything to try on?" Yeonjun interrupted your little moment.
Then you switched cups before you looked over at Yeonjun. "I can't find anything I like for now—"
"Then you can come and rate this shirt on me. See if you were right that I would look good in it?"
Oh no. Sunghoon did not like this. He had to do something fast.
"Look, Love! You would pull off this dress so well," he half-yelled to get your attention and held up the first thing he in arms reach, blushing at both the dress and at the double entendre.
Your gaze turned to your boyfriend but your eyes visibly went from curious to a bit mad. It was a tight, red dress with a deep cleavage — and it was inappropriate for Sunghoon to suggest trying on or buying this kind of clothes in front of someone else, especially a friend you hadn't seen in a long time. But the fact that it had a lace bra under it, making it look like lingerie, was humiliating. You turned red. Not from blushing, but from fuming. It was very odd of your boyfriend to do that; the guy who blushed when you kissed his cheek at a restaurant when you were sitting alone held up this sexy dress and suggested you try on or buy it in front of Yeonjun.
Yeonjun turned away, awkward, "I'm just gonna go...try this on."
"What was that?" You questioned sternly.
"What was what?" Sunghoon gulped, still holding the dress.
You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, "Are you trying to get punished?"
He remained quiet, tall but so small in your presence.
"Cat got your tongue? Hm? Talk, you didn't have a problem being loud just a minute ago," you whispered so others — especially Yeonjun — wouldn't hear you.
The sound of a door creaking was heard, which made you retreat your hand immediately and turn around.
"How does it look?" Yeonjun asked and scratched his neck as he showed off the white dress shirt you suggested.
"My eye was right. You should buy it," you gave him a thumbs up. Sunghoon did not like this.
"Thank y-"
"I wanna try it on too," Sunghoon interrupted him.
"Oh, sure, I can give it to you in a minute."
"Actually, I think I need a bigger size because of my shoulders so I'll just grab a fresh one." It was Sunghoon's turn to be rude.
He felt a minor adrenaline rush — if that even existed — as he power walked to the part of the clothing zoo where he remembered you had told Yeonjun to try on a shirt you found. At this point would do anything to keep your eyes on him instead of that guy. He hurried into the changing room, changing in just a minute and opened the door.
Your eyes were definitely on him. He had styled the shirt a bit differently than Yeonjun, choosing to keep the first four buttons undone, way sexier than the usual one or two undone buttons. The pure white silk complemented his skin, making him ironically look like an angel.
"You look really, really good, Baby."
It was a modest compliment, since you had company, but Sunghoon already knew what you were thinking as you eyed him up and down.
"It looked better on me though," Yeonjun said in a jokingly manner.
"No, I look better in it," Sunghoon said, "Right, Mommy?"
It slipped out. He didn't mean to say that. In fact, he's never called you that before.
Yeonjun gulped and stood up to go, "I'm gonna go pay for this real quick."
"You're gonna regret that," you said with a voice that was too calm.
"What you gonna do about it, Mommy?" Might as well go along with this brat thing.
"Guys, something came up so I gotta go. I just wanted to say bye!" Yeonjun appeared with a bag and an awkward smile.
"Bye," you said, hugging him farewell.
some minutes later.
After throwing the almost empty caramel latte in the trash, you slammed the door of the car (not hard, but a little louder than normal). Sunghoon had embarrassed you in front of an old friend, your angel acting like a brat. And he was just glad he had your attention.
"Love~"
You started the engine and took off, completely ignoring his cute calling.
"Mommy," he leaned over to your side, putting his face in your boobs.
"Brat," you pressed your hand harshly on his dick. He was hard. "You really got hard from acting like a desperate slut in public?"
"Mhm. More, Mommy," he whimpered in your ear.
"Slut," you pushed his face away with the hand that was giving him pleasure just now, placing his head gently onto the neck rest (still worried for him even when you were mad).
He smirked, ears red at the contrast of your words and pushing and then kindness. He needed more. So much more. Any little attention you had given to Yeonjun today, he needed that attention tripled. He would've acted like a brat much sooner today if he knew you would've taken him home to punish him.
With his eyes on you he undid his pants. He wanted to push the limit. You looked away from the road for a split second to catch a glimpse of what your boyfriend was up to, "What do you think you're doing?"
"Being a needy whore," he replied and slid his hand inside the pants.
"Touching yourself without my permission two minutes away from home? You're begging to be punished like the bitch you are," you chuckled and sped up.
"Yes, Mommy," he moaned both as an answer to your statement and because of the pleasure his hand was giving. Apparently he loved calling you that.
"Well, you're gonna get it soon, slut," you replied as you were parking.
At that, he went even faster with his hand to get on your nerves even more. And then you were parked. He went for the door in a second, excited for what was about to happen. You got out too and unlocked the door to your place. A slam was heard after you got in. Shoes were taken off and thrown to the side. Sunghoon took your jacket off for you. "Did I say you could touch me?"
Pink spread across his cheeks as he responded with a no, shy all of a sudden. You grabbed him by the collar of his shirt just like at the mall and dragged him to your bedroom. He almost couldn't keep up with your steps. Inside the bedroom you pushed him to the wall, a moan slipping out. You tugged his hair and pulled his head back harshly. "Pants off. Now."
They were on the floor in seconds. "No underwear? You took them off when you were trying on your shirt? Slut," you smirked and sat down on the foot of the bed in front of him.
"You know your place." He got over her lap, flashing his ass for her to admire. He had been doing weighted Romanian split squats at the gym lately. This position on your lap was one he had been in before. But never for acting out in public or calling you something inappropriate in front of a friend.
Your warm hand started rubbing his skin smoothly to prepare for punishment and joy. "Do you remember your safeword?"
"Pear."
"Do you remember my safeword?"
"Pineapple."
"Good. Count, if you don't we'll start over again. Understood, slut?"
"Yes, Mommy," he said with anticipation clear in his tone. He finally had all your attention on him — and your hands on him as well. This is exactly how he wanted the day to go: spend quality time together.
"How many do you deserve?" You asked to test him.
"Uhm... Ten?" He asked, playing dumb.
"Fifteen it is. Twenty if you misbehave," you said and gave him a harsh spank.
"One," he whimpered out, surprised.
The next one was harder.
"Two," he said under his breath.
"Can't hear you, princess," you slapped his ass cheek rougher.
"Three," he yelled out.
He kept his ground, but you wanted to wreck him for how he acted today — if he wanted to be hurt or just go he should've told you and not been a slut — so you hit harder, if possible.
"F-Four," he stuttered in defeat.
You smirked and brought your left hand to his hair, pulling it.
Your right hand blew him with the same strength as before.
"F-Five," he moaned from the beautiful pain.
Spank!
"Fuck! Six!" He cursed.
"Watch your language," you warned and raised your hand up higher and when it came in contact with his skin it made the loudest hitsound.
"S-Seven. So-So-"
Spank!
"-Sorry! Eight," he exclaimed in a moan so high pitched he was embarrassed.
Spank!
"Ah, nine," he moaned loud enough for the neighbours to be awkward around you next time you see them.
Spank!
"Ten. Mommy, please," he cried out of desperation, not sure if he wanted a break or more.
You were only halfway there, yet his dick already had pre-cum leaking out on your jeans.
"Please what?" You asked and delivered a harder one, knowing exactly what he needed.
"E-Eleven. Mommy, touch me, please," he begged pathetically, knowing you would deny him.
The spank got harder at that.
"Twe-elve," he whined like the bitch he was.
You pulled his head back and looked him in the eyes, "Be a good slut and you might get rewarded"
"Thank you, Mommy."
You let his head go back to rest on the bed (gently just like you'd done in the car) and then spanked him harder to see how much he could take.
"Thirteen," he called out.
His ass cheeks were as pink as his cheeks when you greeted him with a kiss to his temple at the mall.
Spank!
"Fo-Fourteen. Mommy!"
His dick stung at this point. He needed you to touch him so damn much.
Spank!
"F-Fifteen," he moaned, crushed.
He closed his eyes harder, waiting for the next spank.
To his surprise, you just touched his ass softly, grabbing here and there, "You were a good slut for me."
"Thank you, Mommy," his ears got pink at how gentle you were being, petting his hair, combing your fingers through it.
"As a reward you get my cum and if you're good enough you'll get to cum too," you whispered as you nibbled on my ear.
"Thank you, Mommy."
You pulled him off your lap, standing up and giving a peck to his forehead before softly pushing him back on the bed. You let your jeans fall down to the floor to be long forgotten. Sunghoon licked his lips at the sight of you in black panties. They were see-through! He was so distracted and suddenly the panties were gone and you were sitting on his waist.
"Please, Mommy, sit on me," he pleaded with a made-up sweet voice, wanting to be on your good side so you wouldn't tease him.
"How much do you want it?" You moved some hair away from his eyes, resting your hand on his jaw.
"So much. Please, please, sit on my face. I want to be good for you now, please," he made sure to look you in the eye with a small pout.
"I know you got jealous and acted like a slut because you wanted my attention, but you know I like good boys more, right?" You mock pouted at him.
He nodded fast, "I know. I'm so sorry, Mommy. Let me prove I'm your good boy. Please?"
"Since you begged so cutely...prove it to me," you said before you moved up until your pussy was above his face.
He eagerly stuck out my tongue and put in the tip between you folds to tease you a little and to prepare for what was coming.
"You think you're gonna make me cum this way, bitch?"
His tongue slipped in further and faster to taste your delicious juices. You arched your back slightly at the stimulation, he smiled against you and started nudging his nose gently against your clit. Your hands found their place behind you, on his stomach. You weren't satisfied with the feeling of fabric, so grabbed the hem of his shirt and lifted it up so you could touch the skin and small curves of his abs. Sunghoon definitely had more muscles than that guy. His hands went to your butt and, before you protested, they pushed you further down on his face and so his tongue went even deeper.
"Desperate for Mommy's cum?" You asked and grasped a handful amount of his wet hair.
He hummed against your pussy, sending vibrations; he was determined to make you cum so good you'd let him cum too. You yanked his hair slightly and he arched his back a little. To show his appreciation he kissed on your clit. Whimpers started spilling from your mouth and excitement and pride started filling him. Both his face and cock were glistening with pleasure and neediness.
"I'm gonna cum."
He nodded and dove in deeper and licked you like he had been thirsty for you his whole life. You pressed herself lower on him, moaning. He held your thighs as they were beginning to shake. His lips sucked on your clit as if it were your nipple and you finally blessed him with your tasty cum. He licked and slurped till there was nothing left to swallow.
"What do you say now?" You asked as you sat back on his chest, catching your breath.
"You're delicious- I mean, thank you, Mommy."
You chuckled and continued with a question, "Who deserves rewards?"
"Good boys," he replied happily.
"Are you a good boy?"
"Yes, Mommy."
"Yes, you are. Take this off," you said and tugged his shirt, "That shirt from today looked better on you anyway."
He took it off as soon as you told him to. His dick was still standing proud, red from the pleasure and resistance.
"Please, Mommy, sit."
"You think I'm going to let your slutty dick inside me just like that? Go get a condom now."
He hurried to his bag, stark naked in the sunlight from the window. But he didn't care, he just wanted to be inside Mommy. When he got back you had already gotten nude — and that was enough for him to open the condom, put it on and throwing himself on the bed in seconds.
"Don't get too comfortable, sit up," you ordered him as you crawled onto the bed.
He obeyed and rested against the headboard, attention on you. You continued crawling until you sat on his lap.
"Your thighs are so thick and sexy."
"Thank you," he blushed because he'd been going to the gym consistently and your validation made him proud.
"Feels like a sin to make them tremble, but oh well."
You lowered yourself on him until long moans littered the air, both of you sensitive; you from a little overstimulation right after cumming and him from ignoring his pink dick for so long. Without preparation or warning, you bounced up and down on him. He wondered where you get the stamina to do bounce on his dick so well.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you," he cried out.
He saw your boobs bouncing too and just had to start sucking on one of them, hand palming the other one. You gasped. He was very good with his mouth. Your hips moved faster and Sunghoon couldn't keep his moans inside as he switched his mouth to the other boob. He felt like a pervert but he really really loved how your boobs moved up and down when they weren't in his mouth. You tightened your fingers into his hair and made it harder for him to concentrate and suck. He looked up into your eyes through his long eyelashes and started licking your nipple before putting it between my lips.
"My slut."
He let go of your nipple, "No. I'm your good boy, please," and went back to sucking on it.
"Really?"
"Yes, yes, I am. Please, Mommy." Kiss after kiss was placed on your boobs as an apology for being a shameless horndog back at the mall.
"Such a good boy."
"Mhm," he mumbled not letting go of your nipple, sucking harder, needing you to praise him more.
Your thighs were trembling, an orgasm coming soon. Sunghoon was close too, but he needed your permission first. "Mommy. Mommy. I-" A moan disrupted his sentence. "Ngh, Mommy. I-I'm gonna cum."
You yanked his head back at that and put your lips on his neck, "Cum for me, my good boy."
He filled the condom with his cum.
"Th-Th-Thank you, Mommy."
Your hips rode out his orgasm and he moaned like a slut the whole time. "Mommy, hurts."
"Good." You continued overstimulating him, chasing your second orgasm. He bit his lip, trying not to moan too loudly. Then you came too with a small bite to his neck.
You laid on top of him, just hugging, breathing each other in and pecking at each other's faces and shoulders.
"Want me to run us a bath, Baby?"
His answer was a small pout — your weakness — and a soft nod.
You got up and held his hand, leading him to the bathroom where you threw away the condom in the trash and swayed slowly back and forth as you hugged, waiting for the bathtub to fill with warm water.
"Oh! Almost forgot something," you were confused when Sunghoon let go of the hug.
You smiled as soon as you saw him come back with a lighter and caramel scented candle. 
✧ ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚** ੈ ✧ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✧‧₊˚** ✧ ੈ ✧
"I wanna be your vacuum cleaner
Breathing in your dust
I wanna be your Ford Cortina
I will never rust
If you like your coffee hot
Let me be your coffee pot
You call the shots, babe
I just wanna be yours"
—alex turner
610 notes · View notes
eldritch-nightmare · 8 months
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do the others know about you?
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synopsis: you're just a human dating someone that's... well. you can certainly never introduce them to your friends or family. but do their friends/companions know about you?
a/n: is it a good idea to include every single creepypasta i can think of from the top of my head... no. will i do it anyway? yes, i will. anyways this right here is my pride and joy. i enjoyed writing it, and i'm proud of it, so i hope you guys enjoy it as well.
warnings: possessive behavior in a few, yandere behavior in a few, spoiler alert alex almost kills you but dw there's no character death here.
includes: jeff the killer, eyeless jack, jane the killer [richardson + arkensaw], laughing jack, slenderman, nina the killer, the bloody painter, the puppeteer, clockwork, jason the toymaker, hobo heart, nurse ann, zalgo, x-virus, homicidal liu, ticci toby, tim wright, brian thomas, jay merrick, alex kralie, and jessica locke.
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jeff the killer would more than likely tell the others about you, though mostly just so everyone knows that you're off limits for killing. he also just has this thing where he needs people to know what belongs to him so they know not to touch it, and in his mind, you belong to him so. none are allowed to touch you.
eyeless jack isn't that open about his personal life to others. mostly because he can't remember any of it, but also because he's just a guarded person in general. at most, the only people who know about you will probably be jeff, ben, and maybe sully.
jane richardson doesn't really hide your existence, mostly because she doesn't have contact with the others, so it doesn't matter. everyone of importance knows that you're together, and the government knows as well, so.
jane arkensaw would prefer certain people didn't find out about you, though she may tell some of her close friends about you if she's certain that they will keep your existence a secret as well. then again, it's not like you'll ever come into contact with any of the others so long as she has any say about it.
laughing jack more than likely lets everyone know about you because he literally can't shut up about you. he loves you! people need to know that he is so sickeningly devoted to you! even the kids he terrorizes know about you!
slenderman doesn't have any say on whether or not people learn about you because they're gonna find out anyways. besides, it's better if they did know about you because then they would know that you are off limits for killing. anyone who dares to even try to harm you will understand the pure wrath slender can bring down upon them.
nina the killer wants everyone to know about you. she needs everyone to know that you two are together and that she loves you so very much. she tells everyone all about the dates you two have and the gifts you get each other. it's cute, though it can be annoying at times.
the bloody painter doesn't interact much with the others, so not many of them know. helen doesn't really care if anyone finds out that he's dating you, it doesn't really matter to him. though... he will have some words if any of them try making a move on you or hurting you. you're his muse, after all.
the puppeteer doesn't want anyone to know about you, not even his proxies. you're his. no one else deserves to even know that you exist, so why the hell would he tell anyone about you? at most, the only person who knows about you would be emra because he knows that she won't tell anyone if he orders it.
clockwork doesn't let people close to her, so only a small handful of people would even know about you. she likes that none of the others really knows about you, though a part of her thinks about telling them so they know not to make you a victim. not that you'll ever become a victim, of course. she'll protect you from anything, don't worry.
jason the toymaker wouldn't want anyone to know about you. honestly, his whole thing is making sure that you belong to no one but him. you don't need anyone other than him, so why would he tell anyone about you? the others will know that he has someone in his life already, someone he'd burn the world down for, but they'll never know it's you unless they visit his toy shop.
hobo heart would be delighted if the others knew you were his. you have his heart, so it's only natural for everyone to know that you love each other, right? that's how relationships work. he doesn't really speak much with the others, but when he is around then he'll let everyone know who has his heart.
nurse ann is hardly ever around the others for them to even know about you. the only three to know of your existence is liu, sully, and helen because those are the only people she's close with. they don't need to know about you, it's not like they'll ever hurt you. trust me, she won't let them even if they were to try.
zalgo is just as surprised as everyone else that he's like... together. with you. shocks him every day, to be honest. but yes, he wants everyone to know you're his. he doesn't see you as a weakness, though he knows how fragile humans are so he makes sure you're safe from any that may cause you harm. it also sends a... delightful chill to the core of his existence knowing that everyone knows you belong to him.
x-virus basically needs everyone to know that you're together. not because he's possessive in any way, but because he needs to use this as a way to keep you with him. a tactic to keep you from leaving, if you will. with you dating cody, you're safe from harm. if you ever leave him, then you're no longer under his protection. so... stay with him.
homicidal liu is... hesitant, to put it simply. he doesn't particularly mind if the others find out, but he most certainly won't go out of his way to tell anyone. he doesn't want you involved in the darker parts of his life because he's worried about your safety. there are a few that he simply doesn't trust to know about you. sully, on the other hand, would love for everyone to know about you. he doesn't tell anyone because he respects liu's wishes to keep your existence a secret. though, he can't lie, it does make his heart race knowing that he and liu are the only ones who know about you.
ticci toby neither hid your relationship from people nor did he let anyone know about it. he's a naturally reserved person, so it wasn't like he was super open about himself with the others. in the beginning, the only one to know about you would probably be slender, but that's just because it's like... toby's boss, essentially. of course, those who were paying attention could see the signs.
tim wright would definitely keep your existence secret for as long as possible. the only person who knew about you in the beginning was brian, if we're being honest, and after all hell breaks loose, he'd do everything he could to keep you from getting involved. god forbid if jay or alex found out about you. jay would've used you to find him, and alex would've tried killing you.
brian thomas was open about his relationship with you, so everyone knew who you were. you even offered moral support to everyone filming marble hornets. of course, brian disappeared one day... and then you lost contact with alex... and tim was trying to move on with his life, so you didn't really keep in touch with him either. then jay came around, and... well. that led to a certain hooded figure watching you from afar.
jay merrick was neither open nor reserved about his relationship with you. he probably mentioned you early on in a few tapes, and he maybe even introduced you to alex when they were still friends. you'd probably be mentioned in casual conversation with tim, but ultimately it was a situation where if someone knew, they knew. and if they don't, then they just don't.
alex kralie was more reserved about his relationship with you. his closest friends knew, such as jay and brian, but that was about it. of course, once the operator entered the scene and alex started cleaning up loose ends, your life was endangered. alex... he wanted to kill you. he had to kill you. you suppose it's a good thing jay managed to find you before alex could.
jessica locke is obviously very open about her relationship with you. no need to keep it a secret, y'know? you two are like... the couple, y'know? everyone knows you're dating; you guys don't hide it. why would you two keep it a secret? there's no reason to.
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meownotgood · 11 months
Text
quiet dream. / dan heng x reader, 18+, smut, reader is fem bodied, grinding, thigh-fucking, fingering, creampie, soft dan heng, reader is super needy, dan heng offers to help when you can't sleep. word count: 4.7k
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You can't sleep. 
It's a realization you've slowly come to after waking up in the middle of the night several times in a row, but it really starts to hit you like a truck after the fourth. This time, you don't even bother to try and close your eyes again. You just sigh, twist onto your back, and stare begrudgingly at the shadows on the ceiling. 
You want to get some rest, you really do. You know you're going to need it. You can't let exhaustion affect your performance on such a difficult and important mission. But no matter how hard you try, it's damn near impossible to sleep when every time you start to drift off, you get interrupted by dark visions and terrible nightmares and loud voices you don't recognize echoing inside your head. 
It's been plaguing you ever since you first set foot in Belobog. You were almost starting to think you were losing it. Perhaps this hotel is cursed. Or maybe not, since none of your comrades seem to be suffering from the same fate. 
You stumbled out of your room and saw your teammates already waiting for you in the hall. March chuckles and tells you she had a nice dream about making snow angels with Pom Pom. Dan Heng doesn't look up from his phone as he answers, I didn't have any dreams. 
So it's just you. 
At this point, you've tried absolutely everything — you've made yourself comfortable in every position you can think of, you've got up and paced around hoping it'd relieve some of your energy, you've tossed and turned and yet still, nothing has helped. No, no, you can't take this, you have to do something. When your missions are only getting more and more difficult, you're going to need all the energy you can get. You can't go another night without sleeping. 
Your brain spins with ideas of possible solutions. You can't get any medicine, it's way past the time for any stores to be open. Can't get any food or something to drink either. You don't feel like bothering March 7th, she'll just babble on and on and keep you up even further. Sitting here alone in silence though, with nothing but the idle hum of the passing train cars to keep you company does nothing but make your insomnia worse. 
When it comes down to it, there's only one last idea you can think of. 
You fling the covers away from your face and sit up to plant both your feet on the ground. You open the door to your room as slowly as you can to keep it from creaking, and you carefully make your way down the hall, rounding the corner, to the first room on your left. Sucking in a nervous breath, you raise your knuckle and knock, but when there's no response after a few seconds, you twist the doorknob and invite yourself inside. 
The blankets shuffle and Dan Heng lifts his head immediately, hair messy and eyes squinted as they adjust to the sudden flood of light. He seems to relax, tense shoulders slumping once he realizes it's only you. 
"What happened?" His voice is rough and laced with tiredness, but he's sitting up further, and he's getting right to the point, "Are you okay?" 
"Nothing, I'm fine. Relax." You raise your hands defensively and gently close the door behind you with your heel. It clicks shut. "I can't sleep, so I figured I'd stay with you for a bit. If that's okay." 
Dan Heng eyes you up and down, considering, before he flops back onto the bed with a quiet sigh, the mattress bouncing from the sudden weight. 
"Sorry, I'll leave if you want me to." 
"No," He retorts sternly, shaking his head, his response catching you a little off guard. Is he really okay with this? 
Much to your surprise, he continues, "It's fine, I understand. Here." Then, he shifts, turning over and onto his side to make some space next to him. "You can sleep with me if you think it'll help." 
Quickly, without giving him a chance to change his mind, you make your way over, and Dan Heng lifts the covers so you can crawl in. You aren't used to seeing him like this; his hair all ruffled, his clothes casual, just a blank t-shirt and sweats. When you settle in and he leans his head onto the fluffy white pillow, you swear you catch him trying to stifle a yawn. 
Honestly, you really didn't expect him to let you in so easily, either. You haven't known him for very long, but you're somewhat familiar with each other, to the point you'd consider him your friend, but Dan Heng's a private sort of person. He's a bit stiff, a bit hard to talk with — You like him, you really do. You like those parts of him. You like the way he's serious and smart and strong, how he's much kinder than he appears. 
You like the way his nose scrunches when he's focused on something. You like how he cares for you awkwardly but earnestly, slipping his jacket off of his arms and draping it over your shoulders when you first arrived to Jarilo-VI and said you felt cold. He cleared his throat and glanced away, muttering something half-hearted like, Just thank me later. 
The thing is, despite all that, despite everything he's done for you, you can't seem to figure out the way he feels. Dan Heng is the most impossible person you think has ever existed. 
And right now, even though he's invited you to come lay next to him, you still can't decide, and your brain is a little too scrambled to really start thinking about it. 
He's already shut his eyes again, his face is close, wisps of dark hair messy. His chest rises and falls, up and down. 
"Did I wake you up?" 
He cracks his eyes back open when he hears you speak once more. 
"Yes." Dan Heng answers bluntly, and if you weren't feeling so shitty right now you might've just chuckled. 
"Sorry." 
"Don't worry about it." The smallest specs of golden light cast from the street lamps outside reflect in his gaze. "I wasn't upset. I'm more concerned about you. Why can't you sleep?"
"Mmm," You look away, shrugging your shoulders, "Bad dreams." 
"Nightmares, huh?" 
Yeah, he'd surely know a thing or two about that. Though, strangely, he hasn't had any bad dreams since arriving in Belobog. Maybe it's because the plush hotel beds are way comfier than his little setup on the Astral Express, he figures. 
The exhaustion in your tone doesn't lie: "They've been happening ever since we got here. And it's not a regular thing, it's the first time I've had so many dreams like this and… they're relentless." 
If the room was a little less dim, and if you were paying just a little more attention, you might have caught the way Dan Heng's expression starts to soften. 
"I'm sorry. I wonder if there's a reason for it. Something with the environment here." He says. You let your eyes close at the sound of his voice. "I'll check the data bank tomorrow. I researched Jarilo-VI thoroughly before we came here, and I don't remember anything like that in any of the submissions, but… I suppose I might've missed it." 
You snuggle into the pillow, your body feels warm and light; Dan Heng's presence alone provides you with comfort, and you're already starting to drift off. You silently hope to yourself that this will be the last time, and then you murmur in response, "Dunno. I'm tired, you can tell me about it later." 
"Right." Dan Heng answers. "I'll see you in the morning. Goodnight." 
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Dan Heng is losing his mind. 
When you first stumbled into his room, he didn't think anything of it. He knows how difficult nightmares can be, especially the ones that seem to be affecting you. Until now, he's never seen you so troubled. He doesn't have a problem keeping you company — you'd do the same for him, and he knows that.
The first time, you managed to drift off for an hour or so. He stayed awake for a while to watch over you, and when you ended up waking up from another bad dream, Dan Heng slung an arm around you, he rubbed your back with his palm and tried to mutter something into your ear to help you fall asleep: some boring story he learned from the archives.
But you were quick to wake again. And again, and again. Nothing worked, trying his best to help you has only served to make him just as restless as you are, and right now you, you're just —
"Dan Heng, please." 
You say his name in a voice so pleading, so sweet and sugary it takes nearly everything he has to struggle to resist. A warm blaze of heat rushes to every corner of his face, his breath is hot and thick, the slightest bit shaky when it fans over the expanse of your neck. In your tossing and turning, you've chosen to face away from him now, with your back pressed deft to his chest. Dan Heng wonders how strongly you can feel the thudding of his heart. 
The proximity alone is enough to get his heart pounding — you're so warm, so close, he can't take it — but each and every word you say makes it so much worse, and you keep shifting back, you keep pressing into him and you just have to know what you're doing. 
"You're still awake." 
Dan Heng breathes the words into your ear, his voice as still as he can get it. Matter-of-fact, just an observation. Not acknowledging anything but not ignoring you either. Exactly as you'd expect him to respond. 
Softly, barely audible, you grumble back a simple response: "Yeah." 
"Get some rest."
You back up into him a bit more, your ass rubs against his groin, right there; you both sigh in unison, yours of relief, his more like exasperation. 
Dan Heng grips you hard, fingers curled into your side. "Stop it." 
"I can't, I can't fall asleep like this. You're so stubborn." You huff, and you sound honest with that, you're seemingly breathless already. 
It's half his fault this is happening. He'll take some of the blame. Perhaps he shouldn't have held you so close earlier. When your breathing got faster, when you hugged him tighter, maybe it was wrong of him to let his lips ghost over your neck, or his palms drift over your thighs. 
He wasn't trying to take things this far, he's never had any bad intentions. He's the one in the wrong for getting carried away. You were just so close, and Dan Heng hasn't been able to stop his heart from pounding for hours now. 
It wouldn't be the first time he's thought more with his heart than his brain. Stupid. 
He swallows the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry." 
He's realizing he's weaker than he thought he was, he's more obvious about his feelings for you than he intended. He has to be stubborn, but he's already failed, because you've gone and found him out. Now, you know. 
You know, because you're gripping his arm with an urgency, you're twisting around and forcing him to meet your desperate eyes while your free hand finds and fiddles with the loose drawstrings of his sweatpants. 
Dan Heng, please fuck me. 
God, how can you say that without even hesitating? His head is spinning. He feels dizzy, he feels like this isn't really happening.
"You're- that's enough." He presses his hand to your shoulder and shoves, but clearly with no force behind it. You don't budge. 
"How many more times?" Your warm fingers are working their way under the hem of his pants now, teasing his bare skin ever-so slightly, "How many more times do I have to ask?" 
How much longer, because you know he's going to give in. 
"I-" Dan Heng looks away, anywhere but where you're staring at him. He breathes a long, heavy sigh out from his mouth. There's an ache in his chest he can't possibly shake, and an even harder throb between his legs. 
He shouldn't. He really, really shouldn't. You don't have protection. You're not even dating. 
One hand twists up to hold the back of his neck, and when the other brushes down to squeeze the bulge of his stiffening cock through his sweats, Dan Heng starts to forget about all the things he'd better not do. 
He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth, and with eyes half-open, he looks towards you again, finally. "You think it'll help you sleep?" 
You nod, "Mhmm." 
"And you're okay with that? This is really what you want?" 
"Yes, it is, I'm sure," You say, you're starting to tug his sweats from his hips and his breath is hitching and stuttering in his throat, "I can't wait any longer. I need you." 
Dan Heng gives himself just one more moment to attempt to compose himself. Your thumbs brush the space just underneath his hip bones, and he takes an unconvincing deep breath in. Then, he's placing his hand on your chest and gently pushing you back; the hotel bed creaks, the mattress shifts and the sheets rustle as he slowly climbs on top of you. 
"Need is a strong word," Fingers grasped around the hem, he makes quick work of shedding his t-shirt. The crisp night air is colder than he thought. The dim light casts most of his face in shadow. "What's got you like this?" 
"You want it with me just as badly, don't you?" 
You've dodged the question. But you aren't wrong. 
"Just this once." Dan Heng affirms, "We won't bring it up again." 
One time. That'll be enough. If he's lucky, you'll save him the embarrassment and remember this as just another dream. 
When it comes to you, he's just too weak. 
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"Dan Heng-"
There it is again, you're saying his name in a tone reserved just for him — Dan Heng gasps, he fucks up into you a little harder, he rams right into your sweet spot and you grasp his forearm to steady yourself, his muscles firm when you squeeze. The sound of skin against skin along with the rhythmic creak of the bed echo around the walls of the small hotel room. Arm wrapped around your stomach, you're on your side, and his body curls around yours, his head leant on your shoulder, hand tightly gripping the fat of your thigh. 
Sweat coats his skin, his head feels hazy, thoughts dreamy. By now, he's come to lose any semblance of lucidity he once had, any hope of not taking things any further. But when he's buried all the way inside you, he's hardly even come to realize.
His voice feels sore and tired, but he still manages to mumble into your ear, "Say it again." 
And you do, you say his name once more, twice more. Dan Heng fucks his cock right into that perfect spot for the hundredth time and you're cooing each syllable for him even louder. 
"S-Shit, you-" He interrupts himself with a gasp for breath, "You feel so amazing, I'm- I can't," He never sounds like this, so needy and awestruck. A soft moan uttered right into the nape of your neck, then, "I'm gonna cum again." 
Your fingers clench the sheets tighter, your breath comes out in short pants, "Wanna hear you say my name too, Dan Heng-"
His arms are shaking, and once he teeters over the edge he's practically biting down on your shoulder to keep himself from getting too loud; he focuses less on hitting the right spot and more on getting off, his thrusts into you become sloppy and clumsy and erratic. As he cums, chanting your name with each fragile breath, he just barely manages to find a moment of clarity, slipping out to fist his cock and empty all over the sheets. 
His heart thuds incessantly in his ears, drowning out everything else. He's gasping, wiping his hand off on the sheet, resting his forehead onto your shoulder and swallowing to keep his throat from drying up. 
"You alright?" Of course, your well-being is the first thing Dan Heng is concerned about. 
"I'm fine," You answer immediately. 
Dan Heng stays quiet for a few agonizingly long seconds. Slowly, he guides his half-hard cock to your thighs, he slides it in between them and feels it start to throb and pulse with need again once you squirm, adjusting to give him more room to work with. 
Warm, you're so warm, he closes his eyes and thrusts forwards and he's already thinking about how it's going to feel so much better when he puts it back inside you. 
"Sorry, what am I doing?" Dan Heng suddenly freezes, rubbing his temple with his fingers. He's absolutely losing his mind. "I'll stop. I'll stop if you want me to." 
"Don't," You reply, and he finds it difficult to object, "I want to keep going, come here." 
You're twisting around then, pulling away from him and shifting onto your back, splaying your arms above your head and blinking away whatever exhaustion is starting to form behind your eyelids. Dan Heng is quick to follow suit, settling into his familiar spot on top of you. 
He raises his hand, and he lets his knuckles brush tenderly over the side of your cheek. "You sure? You're still not tired?" 
Your response comes in the form of a hasty shake of your head and an eager grab of his arm. 
It's been like this for hours now. Dan Heng gives you what you want, you're satisfied for a bit until you beg and coax him into giving you more. The faintest hints of sunlight are starting to creep past the curtains now, and as much as Dan Heng is trying to hold on to his sanity as best as he can, he's really starting to think he's past the point of no return. 
How is he supposed to face you tomorrow? Hell, tomorrow is already practically here, and yet he still can't stop. 
He keeps telling himself the two of you need to calm down — but as you're gripping his hand, as you're pressing his fingertips over your swollen clit, dragging them down and getting them nice and wet on your arousal, his heart is once again caught in his throat and all he can do is listen. 
Dan Heng's whole body shivers. He gives you exactly what you want; he sinks his fingers into you knuckle-deep, he pumps them in and out to a slow and careful rhythm, slick sounds ringing in his ears. 
"Dan-" 
He quirks his fingers up and presses them right where they belong, and you can't manage to get out the other half of his name. 
"More?" Like he already knows what you're going to say, he pulls his fingers out before he even sees you nod, just like that. 
His palms find your waist, he holds you with shaking hands as if you're delicate. Shiny, wet precum is already budding at his slit, and he aligns his hips to press the needy tip of his dick to your entrance. His bottom lip finds its way between his teeth as he's sliding in, just barely, stretching you with just the fat tip of his cock; the rest of him aches, his eyelids flutter and he groans, he can't move. He can't, or he already won't last. 
Please, Dan Heng. Put it in all the way. 
You're greedy, so ridiculously insatiable. He doesn't blame you though. He can't. 
Here you are, always so kind to him, always asking so nicely. Always saying please, always loyal, always sticking by his side. Begging for him, all for him. He'd be stupid not to give you everything — everything you ask for, and every last second in the stretch of this infinite universe. 
Because you're special to him. You mean more to him than he'd ever be able to admit. And after being cooped up in the Astral Express for so long, after so much running and running and never finding his place, after never having time for anything like this and never realizing how badly he needed it, he knows he's even worse. 
It fits in so easy when he finally slides all the way in, like he was meant to be there. He stays still at first, taking deep breaths, getting used to the feeling. He's sensitive, way too sensitive. He tries his best to ignore it and focus on you. He rolls his shoulders backwards, waits for the moment you start to impatiently squirm. And then, he pulls back only to press all the way in; he starts up a gentle rhythm, taking things slow, fucking you nice and softly. 
Even just his shallow thrusts feel heavenly. Your nerves feel like they're on fire, you're warm all over from head to toe. You're a second away from choking out a plea for him to go harder, but Dan Heng seems to read your mind before you've spoken a single word. 
You're pretty when you're underneath him, pretty face and pretty wide eyes locked onto his. It's a pretty sight each time he buries the length of his cock all the way inside you, shaft slick and wet and glistening when he pulls it out. You make the prettiest noises when he shoves in deep only to pull out and slam himself back inside, you've got the prettiest expression as he grips your legs and folds them up to fuck his dick into you even harder than before. 
You've always been pretty in his eyes. But more than anything, he wants to see how pretty you'll look when he makes you fall apart. 
"You're getting loud," He mumbles, in that matter-of-fact way you've come to expect. He doesn't slow down though, doesn't give you a moment to breathe; he squeezes your thighs and rubs them with his palms. "If we keep going like this- they'll hear. You know that?" 
"Don't care," You can barely get out the words, your back takes on a tell-tale arch, "Let them. Just don't stop." 
Dan Heng isn't sure how thin these walls are. But in hindsight, it might be too late. The thought makes him feel dirty. He should have considered quieting down a long time ago. 
Forehead to forehead with you, his pace speeds up a little, a tight knot forms in the pit of your stomach. His hair is a thick, tangled mess, even messier when you reach up to run your fingers through; you grasp and tug, sending waves down his spine, and Dan Heng can't help but whimper. He bucks into you hard, desperately, and you can't do anything but claw at his back, leaving scrapes and marks of red. 
He's panting, his face is inches away from yours; he can't take it anymore. He starts with a single quiet please, and when you cup his cheek in your hand he's sighing and stammering without even thinking, "Please I- please kiss me, please please please-"
You pull him closer, he tilts his head and you shut him up as your lips connect for the first time tonight — Dan Heng kisses you softly, his lips plush, his heart flutters and flips. His first kiss with you, and it's so much more desperate than he expected, but he needs this too badly to take things slow. Your lips part and he's groaning, licking into your mouth, sucking on your tongue. 
He takes the opportunity to grab your thigh, tossing your leg over his shoulder to give himself a better angle. He pistons in and out at a steady pace until you're about to snap, until everything else is melting away and you're focused on nothing but him. Until he gets carried away, the tip of his cock shoves in too deep, and you're tossing your head back, crying so loudly you're certain someone would hear. He feels so good you can't bother to care. 
"M'close," You're mumbling once he gives you a moment to breathe, dragging away from your lips to plant wet kisses onto your cheek, your jaw, your neck. Your fingertips drag along his back, you feel out the shape of his mismatched scars — you're whining even louder, begging for him to make you cum, and Dan Heng is really, really done for. 
He's thought himself to be somewhat of a strong person. Someone with a good resolve. Tonight, you're making him rethink everything. 
He's close too, movements getting sloppy, it's growing harder and harder for him to hold back how you make him feel. He's never felt like this, never been so desperate. Dan Heng's fingers twitch, he moans and wraps an arm around your back securely. He rests his head in your nape and sighs, breath warm and heavy on your skin. 
"I-" He hesitates, because even now, even after all this, he's nervous to speak; his chest heaves, his whole body's trembling. "I want to cum with you."
"Don't pull out, please Dan Heng, it feels so good, you're making me feel so good-" 
He shouldn't listen to you. But he will. And he won't even think twice. 
"Gonna cum," His shoulders tense, his voice nearly breaks, "F-Fuck, you're so sweet, I'm-" A stuttery whine, "I'm cumming, I'm cumming…" 
A few more sloppy thrusts and you're both done for. Wet sounds fill your ears, Dan Heng reaches up with an unsteady hand and grips the headboard to keep himself steady. When you cum, clenching hard and throbbing around his cock, chanting his name just as he hoped you would, Dan Heng has little pent-up tears forming in the corners of his eyes, he hastily covers your mouth with his free hand, your noises muffled on his palm. He's riding his high out with you and fucking you through it all, biting hard on his bottom lip to stay quiet, shamelessly spilling every drop of his spend inside. 
It takes a while for him to finally slow down, for his vision to unblur. He nearly collapses on top of you, and it takes him even longer to work up the strength to pull out. 
The early-morning sun shines even brighter through the curtains. His fingers slip over your cheek, they fiddle idly with your ear. He kisses your lips once before finally settling, rolling over next to you with his eyes already closed. 
"Dan Heng." 
He was hoping you'd managed to fall asleep, finally. He gives himself a second to regain some energy, and then with a huff, he lifts his head and props himself up on his elbows, meeting your eyes. 
"I don't want this to end." 
Your words catch him by surprise. Your genuine expression does even more so. 
"It won't," He concludes, earnest as ever. Your hands are splayed out above your head, clenching and unclenching, and he grips one to give you something to hold onto. "I'm not going anywhere. And I won't forget about this, or about you. I'll be here when you get up, do you think you can try and get some rest now? It's late." 
It's early, more so. 
You offer him a shallow nod in response, and Dan Heng wastes no time fluffing your pillow, pulling the covers over you, and giving you some space to curl up. He doesn't bother to find your clothes, he just tucks the blankets in around you and hopes that'll suffice for now. 
"I…" He gets comfy next to you, resting his head on his arm. "I don't want this to end either. I don't. I didn't even think it was happening for a while. I think… I think we should focus on our mission. We can't afford to get distracted. But when we're back on the Astral Express- Once we've got more time on our hands, we can talk about this. How's that?" 
You don't answer. He takes a few moments to realize you've stilled, your chest calmly rising and falling. 
"Are you asleep?" 
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enkvyu · 9 months
Text
8:12am — gojo satoru ;
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your sneeze cuts off your sentence and you sigh, apologising into the phone. “sorry, i really don’t think i can carry out the mission.”
you can imagine yaga rubbing his temples on the other side of the line. “just worry about getting better. we can always have someone else fill your absence.”
“thanks, yaga. i’m really sorry for this.”
“don’t worry about it. take care.”
you end the call and sniffle, shoving your hand and phone deep into your pockets to try and conserve heat. the sniffle does little to clear your nose so you do it again, inhaling harder. by the end of it, your airways are no clearer than before.
a doorbell interrupts your suffering and you need to clamp your mouth shut to stop from groaning. dragging your feet behind you, you painfully walk over to your door. when you peer through the peephole, you’re met with a bright blue eyeball peeking through lifted black fabric.
“what the fuck.” you pull open the door. “gojo?”
your colleague stands on the other side, adorned in his typical work uniform with a white bag of something hanging off his arm. “you took so long to open the door i thought you might have died!”
“don’t sound too upset.” you roll your eyes.
gojo pauses and leans in, causing you to take a step back. his face falls into something you’ll call the equivalent to serious considering that you were talking about gojo, and he tilts his head to study you further. “is that a new makeup look? can’t say it flatters your features.”
you growl and it sounds sickly. “i’m not! i’m—” you shake your head as a migraine threatens your sanity. “doesn’t matter, what are you here for?”
“we work together! do i need a reason to come over and hang out?”
“at eight in the morning? yeah, you kind of do.”
“it almost sounds like you don’t want me here.”
“what gave it away?” you say, drily. of course, either gojo doesn’t get the nuance behind your words or he finds pleasure in testing you because he keeps bothering you with his presence.
“my feelings are hurt.” he sulks.
"i don't give a fuck about your feelings."
gojo's eyebrows shoot up. "wow, are you mad at me?"
you shake your head, sighing. “no, i'm not."
"right? after all, i haven't even done anything."
when he doesn't elaborate and the conversation dies, you ask, "was that everything?"
“why do you want me gone so fast? are you hiding something in there?”
you open your mouth to retort when a pulsing pain in your head cuts you off; the migraine was here. you groan, rubbing your temple as gojo’s voice zones in and out. “listen gojo, i am way too sick to banter with you right now. if it’s nothing important, can you talk to me another day?”
“you’re sick? how bad?”
you try to give him patience. “bad.”
gojo hums thoughtfully. “well it’s lucky for you that i’m super great at taking care of sick people.”
you stare at him. “you? really?”
“yeah! i’m incredible at it.”
you level with him a stare before slowly closing the door, intending to shut him out. his foot comes in a blur, holding it in place and you huff.
“you don’t believe me?” he says, looking the part of a wounded animal.
“if i say i do, will you leave me alone?”
gojo tuts, shaking his head. “this won’t do, we can’t have you believe in a false truth. i’m crazy good at taking care of people, i’ll prove it to you now!”
“no, that’s okay gojo, i don’t need your help— and you’re already inside. great.” the door closes behind you with a soft click as you stumble to your living room. “just stay out of the way, okay? and for god’s sake, keep quiet.”
"it'll be like i'm not even here. i promise."
"i don't believe in your promises." you grumble, stomping over to the bathroom. you notice, notice very clearly in fact, that the tall white-haired man follows after you. you stop at the entrance, looking back at him. "are you seriously following me to the bathroom?”
"i was going to stand guard outside!"
"i don't need you to. all i need is for you to leave." you hiss, entering the bathroom and slamming the door in his face. when you come out, he's still standing there, guarding.
you scrunch your nose up at him but leave anyway. he wasn't worth it, you remind yourself.
you make it to your next destination safely, thanks to your new and improved guard dog. checking out the fridge in your kitchen, you realise there was nothing to pop in the microwave and eat whilst wallowing in self-pity.
you do the next best thing and place a pot over your gas stove. bending over, you turn the small knob and watch as the blue flame arises. you let go of the knob, and the flame dies.
this was not something you needed right now but the emptiness of your stomach is all too prominent. so you try again, bending over and rotating the knob over the small fire symbol and watching as the stove flares up. carefully, you release the knob. the flame dies again.
“you okay?”
you grit your teeth into a smile. “yes, gojo. i think i might be better if you could stop looking over my shoulder.”
“the stove does not like you.” he ignores, side stepping to try himself. and because he’s so irritatingly perfect in every way, the blue flame rises and stays when he lets go.
gojo turns to you with a bright smile.
you sniffle and nod. “thank you.”
“what are you making?”
rummaging through your pantry, you remove a packet of instant noodles. the bright red icon on the packaging causes gojo to raise his eyebrow.
“super spicy?”
“i can’t feel anything in my nose right now. i’m thinking of flushing it out with something else.” you go to fill the pot with water but he stops you. “what?”
“you’re sick, you shouldn’t be eating something like that.”
“do you have a better idea?” you ask. “this is all i have in the house right now.”
gojo grins. he lets the white bag he was still holding onto slip down from his arm to his hand and he opens the two handles with enthusiasm. because it was so contagious, you can’t help but feel excited, peering into the bag.
you blanch. “is that medicine, creamed corn and one single egg?”
“yes!”
“that isn’t a meal either, gojo.” you think again, flickering your gaze up to his eyes. “but that’s sweet, thank you. i’ll take the pills after.”
you start to move around but he stops you with his arm. “didn’t i say i was here to take care of you? i’ve got this, just go over and relax on the couch.”
“the last thing i’ll be doing is relaxing if you’re in the kitchen.” your migraine disagrees so you eventually nod, shuffling away. casting one last glance, you point at him. “don’t start a fire.”
he gives you a cheerful wave and you stumble to your couch. you fall into its cushions and exhale, deeply.
time passes in a blur as your illness takes a hold of you, digging its finger into your brain and shaking it, displacing your cerebral spinal fluid. with your face deep within a pillow, you almost miss the scent of smoke.
almost.
you spring yourself up on your arms and dart back into the kitchen, almost running into a wall. coughing, you fan away a puff of smoke as you enter, finding the culprit wishing a tune and stirring something in a pot.
"gojo?" you choke.
gojo spins around and you find that he'd somehow pulled out the "kiss the chef" pink apron shoko gifted you on your birthday which you had immediately hid. it fits him terribly, straining to cover his torso. "you're up! why are you up?"
you cough again, stepping closer. "can't you see past that blindfold? you're starting a fire! i'm surpised my smoke alarm hasn't gone off!"
you reach over and turn the exhaust fan on, something he hadn't even done, and squint through the fog to look at what he was making.
"what is that?"
"it's soup! i heard soup is good for you when you're sick."
you look between the lump of black coal in the pot and gojo's smiling face. "soup has water in it."
"i know, i added that! it just all disappeared." gojo stirs the pot, and you're no longer sure what exactly, he was stirring. "i even added the pills you wanted to take so it'll be easier."
you wordlessly reach down and turn off the gas stove.
he lets you. "thanks, i was just about to plate this."
gojo begins manoeuvring your kitchen with a familiarity you weren't sure how he obtained. he opens the overhead pantry and takes out a bowl, pulls out the utensils from its respective drawer, and uses your favourite spatula to transfer the black lump of something.
he places the bowl in front of you. "here you go."
you stare at it for so long, you start seeing black. eventually, you begin registering the item. "wait a minute, is this a cursed object? did you infuse your cursed energy into this?"
gojo has that stupid grin on his face, the one that he uses when he knows he's in the right. "it is! this should make you better in no time. i used to give this to megumi all the time when he was sick."
"but it looks so..."
gojo digs through his pockets, pulling something out and hiding it in his fist. he holds it out to you. "if you're good and eat it, i'll give you this."
"what is it?"
"it's a secret." gojo says. "c'mon, be a good girl and take your medicine."
you huff, pulling your gaze away from his hand and towards the black lump. it looks edible, maybe if you squint at it, and it didn't seem all too big. you could probably get it down in two big bites. so with the determination of a seasoned warrior, you square your shoulders and break off a chunk, throwing it into your mouth.
your face immediately scrunches up as the taste hits you.
gojo coos at you from the side. "you're almost done."
you glare at him through tears, gulping the substance down when you're able to, and stuff the remaining bit into your mouth.
when it's travelling down your oesophagus, you thrust the bowl back into gojo's hands. "you better give me that thing in your hand."
gojo places his fist in your hands and opens it. a single candy stares up at you. "it's strawberry flavour, your favourite."
you murmur curses at him under your breath, something about him treating you like a child, but take the candy anyway. when you pop it in your mouth, the sweetness is almost enough to make you forget the taste of the cursed object. gojo's sweet smile fills in those absences as he gestures you to follow him.
perhaps the cursed object gets to you, or gojo’s presence has wormed its way into being comforting because you find yourself following.
"where are we going?" you ask as he leads you around your own home.
"to bed. the medicine will only work if your parasympathetic nervous system is working and considering who you are, you'll never know true relaxation if you're awake."
"hey." you sniffle indignantly. "i know how to have fun and experience leisure."
he hums but doesn't answer, leading you into your room. thinking that a nap would indeed do you good, you start to pull off the shirt you were wearing and wriggle out of your pants. perhaps the sickness had done more to you than you realised, because you forget gojo's presence, whipping your head to find him still standing at your door, his back to you.
"i didn't see anything." he says, immediately.
you grumble, throwing yourself into your bed and sliding under the covers. only then does gojo turn to you.
"you're really docile when you're sick."
"i'll put my foot in your mouth."
gojo laughs, turning around to head out when you call his name.
"are you leaving?"
he smiles, peering over his shoulder. "miss me already? i'll be back, i promise."
"i don't believe in your promises." you say again, but let him go, sleep taking over you. you slip in and out of consciousness as the fever reaches its peak, time slipping away from your knowledge.
every now and then, you hear footsteps, and the sound of a chair being dragged across the floor. one time, you open your eyes and find gojo standing over you, a towel in his hands. "good morning."
you mumble out something that even you couldn't understand, and slip into another fever-induced sleep.
the next time you open your eyes, you're relatively more lucid. you sit up slightly and something wet falls off your forehead. you catch the towel in your hands.
gojo looks up from his spot in your chair, placed beside your bed. "you're up again. here, hand me that."
you wordlessly pass it over to him and he replenishes it in the basin he'd placed on your bedside table. you say without thinking, "maybe you really are good at taking care of sick people."
gojo grins, lightly pushing you to lay down again. "i told you so. you're alot less of a handful than megumi was."
the warmth of the towel soothes you and you close your eyes against the sensation. you hear gojo flicking through a book in his hands, and the sound of paper against fingers lolls you into another comfortable slumber. a nagging thought tickles the back of your mind and with effort, you peer up at him.
when you mumble something incoherent, gojo looks over at you. “what?”
“i said.” you lick your lips and try again. “what did you come here for? you never told me.”
he gives you a slight smile and reaches over, adjusting the towel. “you said you were sick. i wanted to check up on you.”
“but—”
“you can’t fall asleep if you keep talking.” he reprimands. “shall i sing you a lullaby so you can sleep quicker? megumi never lets me.”
even before you can reply, he starts beatboxing and you realised in your sick state that it was the intro to twinkle twinkle little star.
regardless, having gotten an answer, you close your eyes again and let the sleep drag you under. vaguely, you realise gojo must have arrived at your apartment immediately after you had informed yaga that you were sick, stopping only to grab the ingredients to his cursed object cure. you'd have to thank him when you wake up, if you remember.
with a soft exhale, you slip away, gojo's rendition of twinkle twinkle little star your escort.
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guess who is sick. guess who is sick studying anatomy. guess who is sick studying anatomy and with a gas stove that is out to get her. the answer may shock you!
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lovelybrooke · 3 months
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Since my hazbin hotel concept didn't really go over the characters reactions to the readers dissaperrance, I thought I'd go over it here.
masterlist
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Charlie
Charlie is so, so very sad. She doesn't know what she did wrong, why would you leave? Part of her wonders if it's her, if it's the hotel, maybe she did something wrong and now you're gone.
Charlie devotes all her time into finding you, you have to be somewhere. But after days and days of looking and finding nothing, not even a trace, she starts to feel like it's hopeless.
Charlie switches between intense depression and motivation constantly. She'll spend weeks in her room, alone, only letting Vaggie in. Then, suddenly, she'll burst out and demand that they get on with the search. It's like she's a completely different person, but deep down, everyone can tell that she's racked with guilt.
She just has to find you, she'll even get his dad to help if it comes to it. It doesn't matter, whatever it takes. She just wants to apologize for...whatever she did. Once you're back in the hotel, she'll make everything right, so right that you won't want to leave again.
Vaggie
Vaggie is well...Vaggie. She's conflicted. She doesn't know whether to feel afraid, upset, worried. It's too many emotions to shift through, too complicated. Because of these complicated feelings, she has a hard time being there for Charlie. She want's to help with the search, she really does, but at the same time she doesn't want to have to accept the fact that you truly are gone.
Lucifer isn't even able to find you, Alastor isn't even able to find you. You have to bee somewhere far away to stay out of there reach. The longer you're gone, the longer she's left wondering what made you leave. In your last few days at the hotel you were distant, like mentally. You were incapable of paying attention to anyone or anything, and thinking back on it, she should've known something was up.
She feels ashamed for being so guarded around you, for making it seem like she was weary of you. She was, but the point still stands. You're a nice kid, way too nice to be in hell. Maybe heaven realized that, and sent you back to where you belonged. No--
She won't have that, that isn't right, and it's not fair. It's not fair to Charlie, it's not fair to her, it's not fair to anyone else. You shouldn't just get to dig yourself into everyone in the hotel and then get ripped away when they finally accepted it. It's not fair.
If it was heaven that took you from them, she'll make them pay.
Angel
Angel wants closure.
He gets why you left, he really does. You're too good for this place, for all these people, and so you left, he gets it. What he wants is for you to tell him to his face that it wasn't his fault.
He looks back on his interactions with you, him closing himself off only to welcome you in at the very last moment, the moment where he craved friendship and stability the most, only to then push you away when you needed him. You were struggling, with--something.
Something he has no understanding of. He can't decipher anything behind those blank eyes, he can't figure out what your monotone words mean, and it worries him. He wants to be there for you, offer you comfort, anything.
But he knows he'll just ruin you more. He'll say something, do something, and you'll leave him, you'll hate him. He'll infect you, ruin you, until you're nothing more than a shell of what you used to be, and he hates the thought.
But it doesn't matter now, because even after keeping you at arms length, after depriving himself of you, you still leave, and all he's left with is the pain of not knowing. Not knowing if he did something, if he hurt you, if this is his fault.
But what hurts the most is the pain of not knowing if he could've done something, said something, did anything other than wallow in his own pity and desperation.
Maybe if he did you'd still be here. But he'd never know, would he.
Husk
Husk immediately assumes Alastor is to blame.
That Radio Demon is up to something, he's been gone for days since you left, doing whatever the fuck. He assumes, hopes, that Alastor is looking for you, because if anyones to find you its him. But of course, Alastor tells him nothing. So all he can do is hope.
Hope that you're somewhere safe, somewhere good. He hopes that there's someone nice taking care of you, or that you're at least taking care of yourself. He hopes that you're happy, and healthy, and everything else a kid should be. Because ultimately that's all Husk has, is hope.
He wonders what he could've done, if anything. He wonders what Alastor is going to do, if anything. He wonders what's going to eventually happen when they don't find you, and you're gone, and everyone just has to accept that you're not coming back. He wonders if that's even possible.
Because as a bartender he watches as Angel drink his days away, and as Charlie slaves away with searching for you, and as Vaggie spends all her time in her head.
And when Alastor is at the Hotel, he watches as he converses with Charlie, both of them talking in hushed whispers. He can hear the static, and the screams, and the pleas as Alastor demands to know how you haven't been found. And for a second, he sees worry in Alastor.
And in turn, Husk worries, because if you, and you disappearing, is so easily capable of making Alastor lose his composer, than something must be wrong. If Alastor isn't able to find you, and it's making him worry then it must be serious, it must be real.
But even so, Husk hopes. He hopes you're safe, and happy, and healthy. Because now there's the possibility that you're not coming back, and Husk has nothing left but hope.
Alastor
Alastor knew something was up with you.
From the moment you appeared in Hell, he knew you weren't right. You were too...alive for a demon. You were too naive for someone in Hell. You were too human.
For a while, there was nothing Alastor could do to prove his thoughts and honesty, he didn't want to. It was fun, watching as you stumble about this world completely unaware of what you've gotten yourself into. You're interesting, and you intrigue him. You should be proud, that's not something most can do.
But as your stay in hell lengthens, his feelings for you a mudded. His intrigue is turned into obsession, an obsession for you naivety, for you humanness. It makes him wonder how, or why you're down here. What you must've done to be placed here, even if you are somehow alive.
Alastor hasn't felt like this in a long time, and a part of him despises you for it. He hates the feelings that washes through his chest when he's around you, almost paternal like. He hates the way he faltered when he was told of your disappearance. And he hates the anger that course through him after weeks of not being able to find you.
Alastor looks everywhere, in every corner of Hell for any sign of you, and comes up with nothing, and it enrages him. It's an emotion he's more familiar with, rage, and for some reason hates it.
Because this type of rage is only direct at people who take you from him, this type of rage means you had the gaul to leave him. But this type of rage is the thing motivating him to keep searching and he looks forward to when you back with him.
Because you will be back with him, and the rage will be gone, and instead be replaced with that sweat, unfamiliar obsession that he's come to crave.
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get0sfav · 3 months
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GOJO SATORU doesn't like to be touched.
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take it as you want, but the strongest sorcerer doesn't let people touch him, not after geto. no, it's why his infinity is up all the time. he thinks he'd be vulnerable once again if he lowers his guard, that he'd become weak if he lets someone touch him. It isn't like that at first glance, he looks like the kind of guy to distribute hugs to every single person. but he isn't. he doesn't like physical contact, he can't have physical contact, or he'll crumble.
that was, until you came. what started out as simply being his roommate turned into so much more, watching studio ghilbi movies together, cooking together and what not. but that was all a front. yes, he'd comfort you when you were sad, but he'd never hug you, or even hold your trembling hands. it's like he's almost repulsed to touched you. things worsen when one day you see him with his head in his hands, hands that were trembling. you approached him, put your hands on his shoulders to give him support, but instead, he flinched. flinched hard, and it all came crumbling down. he yelled and yelled, he screamed that he didn't need anyone, that he didn't need you to care for him. hell, he was the strongest, and he sure as hell didn't need someone like you to care for him. he was fine. he was fine alone. it sounded as if he was trying to convince himself more than you, red eyes and trembling body. worst part? you couldn't do anything about it. because he wouldn't let you.
and he was right. you did care too much, too much to the point where you confused care with love. the word slipped out of your mouth with no thought, and he froze. he couldn't believe it, he needed to hear it again. he made you say it ten times, before you had to blurt out every single thing you loved about him. that's when he realised, that maybe it wasn't so bad to let someone in, that it didn't need to be so lonely at the top. you changed him, you made him a better person, and most of all, you showed him that he'd always be the strongest, no matter how vulnerable he is, or no matter how many people he'll let in, because at the end of the day, he's the people's hope, more so, he's the light of your life.
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