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#at the end of the day it is in fact a television show
georgescitadel · 2 days
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George R.R. Martin on the process of creating A Game Of Thrones (1/3)
You hold in your hands the second volume of A Song of Ice and Fire… but not the second volume as originally intended. Although I wrote the opening of A Game of Thrones back in the summer of 1991, as related in my introduction to the Meisha Merlin edition of that volume, it was not until October of 1993 that I drew up a proposal for my agents to take to publishers. There is no mention of any book titled A Clash of Kings in that proposal. In 1993, I was under the impression that I was writing a trilogy.
Trilogies had been the dominant form in epic fantasy ever since J.R.R. Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings had been broken apart by publishers and released in three volumes. And the story that I wanted to tell divided quite naturally into three parts; much more so, in fact, than The Lord of the Rings, which is actually one fairly seamless narrative, and not a trilogy at all. I planned to title the books A Game of Thrones, A Dance with Dragons, and The Winds of Winter. I knew right from the start that they would all be large books. Huge books, even. But there were to be only three of them, and…and none were to be called A Clash of Kings. Sometimes the author is the last to know.
As I write this, I am halfway through the writing of A Feast for Crows, the fourth volume of my ‘trilogy.’ There is no mention of that title in my 1993 proposal either. These days, when pressed, I confidently assert that A Song of Ice and Fire will ultimately run to six books… but behind my back I know my lady Parris is smiling knowingly and holding up seven fingers. She may be right. Though I may dream of six books, plan for six books, work toward six books, the only thing that truly matters is the story. And the story needs to be as long as the story needs to be.
In Hollywood, the suits will tell you how long that is. A television show has to fit within its allotted time slot, of course, and you cannot beg, borrow, or steal an extra minute, no matter how much the story needs it. Running times are somewhat more flexible for films, though not as much as one might think. For the most part, the studios still want movies to run about two hours, so they look for screenplays of 120 pages or less, and demand cuts in any scripts that come in longer. My own screenplays and teleplays were almost always too long and too expensive in first draft, so in my later drafts, along with addressing the inevitable notes from studio, network, and producers, I was constantly trimming. In the end, I would deliver a shooting script that was the right length and under budget, but it was never a happy process… and I often went away feeling that the earlier drafts were the better ones.
The size of A Song of Ice and Fire was in no small part a reaction to ten years of trimming. I wanted to do something epic in scale, something at once grand and sprawling and complex and subtle, with a cast of thousands, huge battles, mighty castles, gorgeous costume, lavish feast, great rivers, towering mountains, vast fields… all the things I could not do in television. In short. I wanted to make a world. And for that you need a bit of room.
In my original proposal, I estimated that each volume of the trilogy might run as long as 800 pages in manuscript. The novels that I had written during the 70's and 80's, before Hollywood, had generally come in at 400 or 500 pages or thereabouts, so an 800 pages book seemed very lengthy indeed. The three books of the trilogy would be structured around the long, slow seasons of Westeros. A Game of Thrones would be summer’s book, A Dance with Dragons would take us through autumn, and The Winds of Winter… well, the title says it all. Even in the Seven Kingdoms, where a season can last for years, 800 pages ought to give me enough room to reach the end of summer and conclude the part of my tale, I reasoned.
‘Twas a lovely plan of battle… but no plan of battle ever survives contact with the enemy, it has been said. Writers know the truth of that as well as any general, though our wars are fought on blank white sheets of paper and empty computer screens. For the map is not the territory, the blueprint is not the house, the recipe is not the dinner… and the outline is never ever the book.
- George R.R. Martin, A Clash of Kings Limited Edition Introduction (2002)
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theelastword · 3 months
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unpopular opinion that might make people mad at me but just because crowley’s angry/insulting language in the finale came from a place of hurt doesn’t make what he said okay. a person’s insecurities and trauma are a reason for their behavior, not an excuse. and it is not aziraphale’s job to roll over and allow crowley to treat him however he likes just because they disagree.
i DO think aziraphale should apologize for the way he worded certain things (ie “you’re the bad guys”), but that’s old news. we all know that. if aziraphale has to express his regret then crowley does, too, for looking at someone he knows struggles with self-worth and repeatedly calling them an “idiot”, “you’re better than that”, etc just for trying to do the right thing and save countless angels from going through the same Heavenly abuse that both he and crowley did (not to mention stop the Second Coming from the inside! He and Crowley may have the practical benefit of immortality that makes Armageddon a terrible inconvenience that they can still run away from into Alpha Centauri at any moment, but humans and other creatures certainly don’t. if he hadn’t gotten in that elevator he’d be losing their only source of information about stopping something that would annihalate an entire planet’s existence).
NEITHER of them communicated very well in this scene, and aziraphale groveling for forgiveness while crowley maintains he did nothing wrong is NOT the answer— especially when in all their time together aziraphale has always forgiven crowley right away, and if crowley doesn’t offer him that same trust it wouldn’t be remotely fair or acceptable. if we place all the blame on just one of them, it won’t be a place of growth OR a particularly healthy relationship.
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repeatstuff · 2 months
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watching hazbin hotel out of morbid curiousity
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chastiefoul · 1 year
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stood up pt. 2
characters: alhaitham & ayato
read part one here!
a/n: cannot thank u all of you enough for how well-received the first fic was, hope you can enjoy the second part just as much!! also i hope you can forgive my limited knowledge of flora (and the things i made up) on haitham's part!!
tags: comfort / summary: wallowed in guilt, how will they make it up to you?
Alhaitham
“You look like shit,” Kaveh commented nonchalantly, as if currently watching some character on a show. “Shut it,” Alhaitham replied, having zero intention in dealing with his roomate. It has been a week since he finished his research, but relief didn’t wash over him at all, it was the same day as he had cruelly stood you up, making you wait for three whole hours before he finally came. There were a lot of upsetting feelings he’s been experiencing through for the past few days, but lately he felt giving his past self a good punch for forgetting such an important day. In a way too he had blamed the research that’s been occupying him. Although he quickly perished that thought, since it’d be too easy—blaming something other than himself. When in fact he is wholly at fault for forgetting the date.
Everyday Alhaitham had been coming to your house, wanting to talk to you but what always greet him was your roomate, telling him that you’re busy. Feeling like he had no right to push it further, he left it at that. With clenched fists and a pang on his chest everytime, he was forced to go home. Today he was at his wits’ end, he had no idea what to do and how would he make you to meet him even for a second. Other than forgiveness that he’s looking for, he missed you terribly. With all the times he could’ve spent with you taken by the damn research, he longed to embrace you, to see your smile, and listen to you rambling about what’s been happening in your life.
Alhaitham wasn’t really one to be experienced in ‘love’, he knew that, you knew that. That’s why he loved your patience in guiding him through this thing, but now the only person that would be able to tell him what to do was the very one person he couldn’t talk to. Alhaitham groaned, thinking if you were in his position you’d probably know to do—scratch that. If it’s you, Alhaitham was sure that you wouldn’t even allow yourself to do such a careless act.
“He’s here again,” your roomate claimed, seeing him from the window. “Just tell him the same thing,” you said, hugging your knees as you sat on the couch. It's true that Alhaitham looked horrible, but you weren’t any better. You’ve been crying yourself to sleep every night, it especially hurt, when you had to hold back the sobs over a pillow that your throat hurts; since you didn’t want to disturb your roomate. What happened that day was like a slap to the face, that you were forced to recognize a fact that perhaps you love Alhaitham way more that he loves you.
Your rommate just nodded to what you say and went to the door. Not long she came back bearing a message. “He said he’d wait for you outside until you feel like talking to him.”
“Just leave him be then, I’m sure he’d go back soon, it’s especially cold outside today.” You said, really having no idea just how stubborn the gray-haired male is going to act. “Well, just keep an eye out.” Your roomate went back to her room. Tell that to him. You thought. You turned the television on to distract yourself, but you couldn’t help but peek outside the window every few minutes, to see if he’s still there. And he always was.
And that went for more than an hour, until you felt like you couldn’t do it anymore. You were mad at him, but you’re not heartless. You couldn’t be. However you didn’t intend to forgive him so easily, you told yourself that you were only meeting him to send him home and to not come back everyday.
You approach the front door and opened it.
There he stood, with an hand behind his back. When he saw you, his eyes lit up, but it quickly turns into a look of concern and guilt mixes, seeing your swollen eyes.
“What do you want?” You curtly said, taking a good look of the man in front of you who’s in terrible shape. His complexion doesn’t look good, there are bags under his eyes, he hasn’t been taking care of himself at all. A part of your chest twinge at the fact that not being able to see you was the cause of all this. You weren’t used to seeing Alhaitham so all over the place, when he always showed a perfect picture of a man who got it all together.
“I’m sorry,” He quickly cut to the chase, afraid that you’ll be out of his sight yet again as he revealed a purple hyacinth, handing it to you. The flower that represented regret and remorse. Then he continued meekly, “Of course, I don’t expect you to forgive me with one lousy flower, but I hope you will believe me when I said I truly regret that I had forgotten about our date, it seethes me with terrible anger to remember that I let myself be so caught up in my business, resulting you had to stand in the snow for hours; hours of you thinking of the reason why I didn’t come, and hours of doubting my feelings towards you. It must’ve felt terrible, I am so sorry.” His voice was close to trembling, however he knew to hold it in, since the one who should be upset was you. “I understand if me being in your vision may infuriate you, but please, please don’t shut me out.” He pleaded, it’s the most vulnerable expression you’ve ever seen on him that it tugs on your heartstrings.
Of course the truth is you missed him as much as he does, but you had to be sure of his feelings towards you. And seeing him now yet again after many failed attempts of meeting you over the days with a flower you didn’t even know where it came from since every field should be covered in snow and a heartfelt all-over-the-place apology, you couldn’t help but soften up. You reached to take the flower. “Come in, let’s talk inside.”
You both sat on the couch, your right hand went to rub his cheek. It was incredibly cold. “What were you thinking, standing in the cold like that? What if I hadn’t come out?” You mumbled gently. “It was nothing compared to what I put you through, I would’ve wait even for days.” He frowned as you leaned in to your touch, putting his hand atop of yours. Oh how he missed this. However he didn’t indulge on the touch thinking it was forgiveness, it’s just because you were that kind.
“You really hurt me,” you started, as he listened. “I had been looking forward to the date for days and then seeing you late looking like you just barely woke up—it made think that maybe you didn’t love me as much.” Your voice sounded so small as you reached the end of your sentence. Alhaitham felt pricks on his heart at the confession, swiftly pulling you into a tight hug. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” He kissed your temple. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way. But I can assure you that was not the case. I was so caught up on my research that I mixed up the date of our meeting, though that’s not an excuse for such a careless act.” He paused.
“(y/n), I love you very much.”
Alhaitham was really having trouble telling you just how much he loves you. If you’d asked, he would wait on the cold for days until you’re ready to talk to him, even today he thought that it was okay if it was only a second, he had to see you, to know you’re doing fine and well, that was what he thought the most important thing. Just the way he kissed you so gently at the top of your head, you thought that you had a grasp as to how much he loves you. “Thank you for letting me see you,” he smiled, he cupped your face planting kisses on each of your swollen eyelids.
“Promise me you’ll make up for it, haitham,” you said softly. A chance. Alhaitham felt an unexplainable tingle feeling on his chest, “I promise.” He then said kissing you gently on the lips, as he made a mental note to always, always pick you up at your place for the dates that are more to come.
“The flowers? I.. went to Tighnari first thing in the morning, I asked him about the language of the flowers and what they meant. I came across it as I read a book, fortunately I could find the one I was looking for.” He explained, strangely bashful.
Flower picking? On this weather?
“But where did you even get it, isn’t everything either covered in snow or had withered already?” You asked genuinely curious. “Well Tighnari said there would be some on the cliffs of The Chasm, so I went there.” He said.
Cliff? The Chasm? That terribly dangerous place? Of course it’d be nothing for Alhaitham, you thought. But still, traveling that far and so quickly just for a flower.. you couldn’t help but smile.
“Thank you, I like it.” You smiled, the one where it made Alhaitham’s inside all tingly and warm. At this he felt like he really could do anything, as long as you were the one who asked for it. “Tell me what kind of flower you want on our next date, I’ll definitely bring it to you.” He took your hand, trailing little kisses along your fingertips to your wrist. Your stomach fluttered. You really do love him.
As if lesson was strictly learned, from that day forward Alhaitham had never once made you wait anywhere anymore at all. He's always ready in front of your door, sometimes with a flower, sometimes with something that you'd nonchalantly said the day before; for instance a food you were craving for, a necklace that you stared a second longer than the other that were on display, or even a stuffed toy you mentioned was cute even though you only said it to make a conversation.
Before, Alhaitham usually passive, most times always being the receiving end by your spoiling, but it was because he didn't want to take initiative, he just didn't understand how. Now, he understood just how delightful it was to see his loved one smile because of the things he did, and he only had you to thank for that.
Ayato
“My lord?” Thoma’s voice snapped the blue-haired male train of thoughts. “Ah, yes just leave the tea there Thoma.” He said. “Did something happen, my lord? You’ve been pretty out of it all week.”
“I’m fine, you can return to your duty,” Ayato calmly said. The blond housekeeper only nodded and went out, understanding very well that it was futile to probe any further. Ayato looked blankly at the unattended pile of papers he needed to take care of, he hasn’t been working well—or even at all. Since everytime his mind would wander off to you, to your meek voice that day telling him that you were tired, with a tone so hurt his heart couldn’t help but ache. This regret, this remorse; he wondered if he even had any right to feel them? When even to this day he unconsciously stilll waited for you to barge in to the estate, wanted to see you smile happily while greeting him without a care in the world. But that didn’t happen, of course it didn’t.
Ayato shut his eyes with an unpleasant expression for the nth time that day, remembering the date he had forgotten. For how long you were waiting for him? What were you thinking while waiting for him on such a harsh weather? What was it that finally made you give up? All these questions swirled inside his mind as he couldn’t even imagine how terrible you must’ve felt that day. Ayato was a formidable man, he was responsible and someone with a strong conviction, it was what the political people said at least. But he knew you’d laugh, if you hear it. Responsible? That Ayato? Who made his lover wait for him out in the cold for hours?
He didn’t even realize he’s been clenching his fist until he saw the crinkled paper scattered across his desk. Why the hell did I forget such an important day? He fumed, gritting his teeth. But the truth was he had no excuse, he had simply forgotten, perhaps he could blame the endless meeting he had to go through, but even then he was the one who made the promise that he could come. The guilt overwhelmed him, he hoped it would just swallowed him alive, but it wouldn’t be fair to you. He considered calling one of his soldier to try and punch him in the face so he could feel a little free from the binding shame, but only to realize the person who even had the right to do that was none other than you. So Ayato was determined that he’d do anything to beg for your forgiveness.
But more than forgiveness, he’s been worried about your health. He thought that if you hadn’t forgiven him, at least you could be well and healthy, though it was extremely hypocritical to say since he was the one who made you sick in the first place. Ayato stood up, planning to go to your place yet again even though his work was piling up, there are meetings that are waiting to be attended. But at the moment it was clear to him that nothing else matters except seeing you.
This was truly the worst.
Lying down with a fever with nothing to do, surrounded with nothing but unpleasant thoughts roaming around your mind. You blinked the tears away once again as they keep coming occasionally, remembering that day.
You sighed, your head was throbbing and you couldn’t really sleep as you just woke up an hour ago.
As if on cue, a familiar voice called out from the door. “(y/n)?” Ayato called out. Another tired sigh escaped. Does this man not know how to take a hint? You’ve been driving him away for the past few days, his face was the one thing you couldn’t stand to see.
“Please (y/n) open the door, even just for a few second.” His voice was now strained, laced with desperation and plead. You got up all wobbly from the headache, body still feeling sluggish. “What?” You said, frowning.
Seeing your condition Ayato’s expression contorted into utter displeasure, as if you being this way had hurt him too. What a joke, you almost laughed out loud. He looked like he wanted to say something based of how he gaped and closed his mouth like a fish, still finding the right words to say.
“Your few seconds are up,” you said, already on your way to closing your door. “No, no, please.” He hold the door, and of course with your condition and his ridiculous strength, there’s no way you would win that one. “Can I come in?” He finally said. “Why?” You said, leaning on the doorframe intending to look intimidating as you crossed your arm, but really you needed the support to stand up straight on your currently weak body. This didn’t go unnoticed by the sword-wielder of course as the worried expression deepened across his face. “Please, sweetheart let’s talk inside, I’m worried you’ll faint any minute with your condition.” You let off his slip of a tongue, too tired to reprimand him on that. And honestly you wanted nothing more than to return to your bed but you still had something to say. “Worried?” You laughed mockingly, and Ayato had never felt smaller. “Yes.” Still, he managed to say. “Would’ve been nice if you were worried when I was waiting for you in the snow for hours.” That one stings, and Ayato knew he deserved that.
Too tired to chase him away, you just return to your bed and inside your blanket. Ayato just stood awkwardly near the bed. “Have you been taking medicine? How is your head? Would I be allowed to check your temperature? What do you want to-“
“Ayato.” Your tone was chilling, felt like a definite warning—Ayato knew, it was a warning. Right now he doesn’t have any right, there are other matters he should be groveling to take responsibility of, he thought.
“Will you be willing to listen to me?” He kneeled beside the bed, putting his hand on the edge of it, hesitating whether he should touch your hand or not. Your back was still facing him, but you were quiet. Assuming that it was a permission, Ayato continued to talk.
“First of all, I apologize. I couldn’t even begin to tell you how I regret my action, that you had to stand there alone waiting for me—who stupidly didn’t even remember, I apologize.” He whispered, his voice was weak. “No, even way before that the way you always come to the estate to visit me and stood by my side no matter how crazy my work got and how I never thought how it would take a toll on you, I truly truly apologize.” You felt a little part of your heart melted at how meek his voice was.
“I took your unconditional kindness and patience for granted,” he said. There was silence after that, “you did,” you finally said. “I’m sorry.” Ayato repeated once again. He then very hesitantly grabbed your hand, and as soon as he saw that you gave the okay he brought it to his face, kissing your palm very lovingly. You turned your head to him as you were lying down, he looked disheveled.
“Don’t go to the estate anymore.” The blue-haired male announced suddenly, your stomach dropped as he quickly continued.
“From now on I’ll come to you.”
You blinked. “I’ll make sure to be here every day, greeting you first thing in the morning.” Ayato smiled, determined. He was sure on his decision to do this. “As of now, I know very well I don’t deserve your kindness, so I’ll try hard to do better, to do my best, for you.”
Your heart softened at his words.
“Can you please give me this chance?” He was desperate. Your anger slowly dissipated, a warm light like a candle flickered inside your chest, a hope. “Okay.” Ayato was over the moon hearing the response, that he couldn’t help but kiss your temple. Your stomach fluttered, it knew you missed his touch. “For now can I ask you to eat and take medicine?” He asked while gently tucking your hair behind your ear. You nodded, as he got everything ready. He ended up beside you all day, taking care of your needs.
Since that day Ayato did not break his promise even once. Always coming in the morning, sometimes with gift on his hand, other times with breakfast all ready. Then he shared his schedule with you for the day, and even then he’d always be the one to visit you when he was free, showering you with such overwhelming love. It was clear that the man love you very very much, and now he didn’t let you forget that.
“Ayato, thank you.” You said, on a random night. He just looked at you, adoration was apparent on his expression. “Anything for you, love. I mean it, anything.” He kissed your lips gently, the nightfall continued comfortably.
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TAGLIST- <3
@sunsethw4 @ieathairs @96jnie @kipper-s @nambii @tigerpriestess @bearbae4 @wearetherealarmb @squishychongyun @jokerloverparis @katsudonnnnnni @dr3amyxiao @xiamuyi @luningningtala @fuyaa @goldenglow149 @xiaosmaskandspear @acheeseblock @fishsticksonballsacks @rokosbasalisk @stellakito @roguexmoriartea @sageseagrass @irisxiel @lowotad @trecedelabuenasuerte @the-dreaming-city @lilliansstuff @cinaiel @bunny-slvt @orginiallyann @chaotickio @n1tsumi @kunikuzushisbeloved @ilovemarvel99 @lunaizhere @optimisticalmondbananabiscuit @kurohoely @larisanam @chaotichearts-19 @illdoitagainbopbop @mzia642 @childesglove @justgiulia @celestialwinds @traumaramacenter @kazuhaprnt @fou56 @angelkazusstuff @itsyourgirlria @yamtwt @gel0517
i can't seem to tag some of you guys, perhaps it's something to do on the accoun't settings? regardless hope you can still find this fic and thank you all for the interest <3
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eloise-t-g · 9 days
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i think for me, the watcher situation comes down to this:
it's absolutely respectable that the watcher team wants to grow and produce better quality content. it's respectable that they don't want to stagnate and end up pushing the same content out over and over again. that's not satisfying for them creatively, i get that.
however, if higher quality, more heavily produced content is not what your fans are asking for, then you can't ask them to fund it.
this all-or-nothing method they've gone for is frankly bizarre. it feels like they leap-frogged all other alternatives to improving their finances and ended up here, alienating and frustrating the majority of their fanbase (the fanbase they thanked for getting them to where they are).
i think this could have gone a lot better if they:
Hadn't hyped up this video for a week.
Hadn't announced the worth it successor just beforehand.
Hadn't put out a wishy-washy, "boo hoo we're so sad about this", over-produced video.
Hadn't made it $6/month (more in a lot of countries given exchange rates).
Had considered that this means fans in specific countries literally cannot pay for the subscription due to geo/region-locking.
my ideas for improving their funds, aka things they could have tried before blowing their brand up: create their own website with two options - a free version with ads and a paid version without ads, OR make better use of their patreon/make their website extra content, not all their content, for example:
Put the ghost file debriefs on there.
Put shows like survival mode on there (or even shift that show from pre-recorded video to live-stream - live stream access to patrons and VOD access to everyone, maybe).
Put episode commentaries there.
Do reaction videos to their old buzzfeed content, talk about memories and BTS, and put that there.
Put one/two episodes of each show, per season on there (and ONLY there).
Put the episodes up there a few days early.
Make specific, website only content (that's not your main and most popular series aka ghost files and puppet history).
Record the live, in-person shows and put those VODs up there.
EDIT (thought of something else lmao): put extended or even uncut versions of ghost files on there. Paranormal Detour on Detune's twitch channel has shown that people will willingly sit through 6+ hours of a ghost investigation.
EDIT: idk, do livestreams once a week where you watch scary movies with fans on discord or twitch.
(side note: the fact that they're not taking down their patreon and instead shifting all of their podcast content on there, something the patreons who have been loyally giving them money for years didn't ask for, is ridiculous and greedy. add to this the fact that they don't even get a free sub to the new website, instead get 40% off - a measly 10% more than anyone else who subs before the official launch).
the thing for me is that they're claiming they want to make "television" and "television-grade content". that's completely fine. what's not completely fine is acting like your four episodes a month is equal to netflix's entire catalogue.
this really felt like it should have been something they told us they were progressing towards, not something they revealed to be on the imminent horizon. idk, it just feels out of nowhere. no, they don't owe us all of the info about their company. but something had to be better than this.
final thought - it's okay and valid to be upset at the team for this. for a lot of people, it's a complete betrayal (especially the comment that $6 a month is something "anyone and everyone can afford", i mean yikes). i do think some people's anger got the best of them, and some of the comments i've seen across youtube, twitter, and tumblr are plain bullying, racism, and harassment. until we have the whole story, we can't decide that one founder (aka steven in a lot of people's minds) is solely responsible. i know a lot of these awful things are only coming from a small minority of the fandom, but they still get seen.
at the end of the day, all three of them got up in front of a camera and made this video, together. that can only lead us to the conclusion that they made this decision together. acting like these men in their 30s couldn't stand up against it if they truly wanted to, is so strange and parasocial lmao.
tl;dr there were much better ways of going about this announcement, if it even needed to be made at all. however, that doesn't excuse the hateful shit being spewed at the team. for now, all we know is the three founders decided they were done with youtube, and done with their loyal youtube audience.
(i have so many more thoughts on this but i need to stop lmao. however i do wonder how different things could have been if 1. they had hired someone with actual business experience as their CEO from the jump, and 2. this video was more of a "hey we're broke! this is a last-ditch effort to save our company!". guess those questions will remain ... well ... you know ...).
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assim-eu-sou · 2 years
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Me finding posts about shows I’m watching with readmores and massive spoiler warnings:
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fxrmuladaydreams · 1 month
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missing oscar (ls2 + op81)
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switch!logan x sub!reader x dom!oscar (poly relationship)
request: Phone/Facetime sex with Logan and Oscar- I have two different ideas for this so you can choose which you like best: you’re with one of them in person and decide to phone the other and give them a show- or the boy you’re not with in person phones to tell you what to do with the other, he’s guiding you through everything as he watches and pretends it’s him you’re touching
wc: 1760
notes: alrighty, this was originally a request for logan weekend (yes all the way back in december) but i had saved the request with the intent of making it a full one shot, and months later i have, so i hope you enjoy. i also deviated a bit from the request, i’m sorry 😅
warnings: !! INCLUDES SMUT, MINORS DNI !! phone sex, dom/sub dynamics, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, brief videochat sex, talk of punishment
punishments (the sequel)
It was expected for the Australian Grand Prix to be a big deal for Oscar. It was his home race. Of course his face was plastered on billboards for weeks leading up to the race. But none of you had expected it to be this big.
He’d gone back to Australia early, to take some time to spend with his family, while also working on some of the other promotional stuff for the race. He was modeling for the Australian Esquire digital cover for March, and he had somehow ended up recording messages for the train up to Albert Park? It was all a bit much for the poor Australian driver.
You’d opted to stay with Logan, the two of you choosing to meet your boyfriend in Australia closer to the race, giving him time to settle in. Though you loved having one boyfriend with you, it was impossible to hide the fact that you missed the other, and frankly so did Logan. You both longed to have Oscar back with you, and cursed the fact that he’d had to go early.
You spent Logan’s brief time off in the US, visiting his family. You loved being able to see him open up more in his home, seeing him let the stress from his job roll off his shoulders while he let himself relax.
You spent the days with his family, accompanying them on different outings, sailing on their boat, dining at all their favorite restaurants. You went with Logan to the gym, he insisted he needed to keep his exercise routine up, and frankly you enjoyed admiring him as he worked out.
The evenings were spent cuddled up together in a hotel room. You’d asked him if he’d rather stay with his family, but he simply grinned and shook his head.
“If we’re with my family we wouldn’t be able to have our own fun.” He winks.
You lay on the bed together, letting the television play some show neither of you are really paying attention to. His hands trail up and down your back as yours draw random patterns on his chest. You glance up at him to see he’s already looking down at you. You laugh softly when his cheeks flame up and he moves his gaze back to the television.
You tilt his chin so that he’s looking back down at you.
“What are you thinking about Lo?” You ask.
He shrugs. “How lucky I am to have you. Both of you.”
You give him a soft smile and move up to kiss him. It starts off soft and sweet, as per usual with Logan. His hands rest on your hips, squeezing slightly when you straddle him. As the minutes tick by, the kisses grow in intensity, what was soft pecks has turned into a full on make out session. You tangle your hands in the blonde hair at the back of his head, grinding against his lap. He groans into your mouth, keeping a firm grip on your body against his.
“I need you Logan.” You moan against his lips. You let your hands travel down the expanse of his bare chest. You whine, pulling away from him. “I need both of you.” You pout.
“Let's give Os a call then, huh? It should be the morning for him.” Logan suggests, reaching for his phone.
You roll off of him, laying by his side as Logan finds Oscar’s contact. He quickly calls Oscar, holding the phone to his ear, waiting for an answer.
“Hey Os, how are you doing?” Logan asks. There’s silence for a minute, then Logan speaks again. “Yeah, we miss you too.”
You smile and reach out for Logan’s phone. He leans away from you, standing up and walking to the foot of the bed.
“In fact, we really miss you. Someone’s getting needy without you.” He teases as he smirks at the small pout that graces your features.
“I wanna talk to him Lo.” You tell him.
Logan places the phone between his ear and his shoulder and reaches down to grab your ankles. He pulls you down to the end of the bed, causing a squeal to escape from your mouth.
There’s another few moments of silence on Logan’s end as his hands wander up your legs, pushing the shirt, Oscar’s shirt, you’re wearing up to reveal your panties.
Oscar had always been the more dominant of the three of you in your relationship, with Logan falling into the switch category, and you the sub. You knew Oscar had to be unhappy with what Logan was about to do. Sure he was okay with the two of you having sex while he was away, he’d told you that himself, but to be made to listen as Logan got the both of you off while he was on an entirely different continent? There was no way this was going to end well for the two of you.
All thoughts of stopping this melt away when you feel Logan’s fingers prod at you through your panties, brushing against the damp patch that’s started to form.
“She’s so wet Os.” Logan says into the phone, talking as if you’re not even there. “Wish you were here to feel her?” He laughs into the phone. “Here, I’ll let her tell you how needy she is.” He pulls the phone from his ear, and presses the speaker button before setting it down on the bed next to you.
“Tell Oscar how much you need him.” Logan instructs you as he slowly pulls your panties down.
“Y/n. Behave.” Oscar says firmly through the phone.
“I- I don’t- oh!” You yelp when you feel Logan’s tongue against you. A hand quickly falls to tangle itself in his hair. He continues licking at your folds, occasionally letting his nose brush against your clit. His eyes are full of mischief as he looks up at you from between your thighs.
“Feel’s so good Lo…” you whine, lifting your hips up to meet his mouth.
“What’s he doing to you Y/n?” Oscar asks. You know he knows, he has to. He’s spent countless nights with you leaning against his chest, his hands holding your legs open as Logan devours you like his last meal.
“He’s- he’s eating me out.” You moan softly.
“Tell Oscar how good it feels baby.” Logan says before taking your clit in his mouth.
“It feels so good Os, so good.” You grind against his face. “I wish you were here Os, I wish you could play with us.”
“Y/n, you’re not being a very good girl.” Oscar practically groans.
You can picture him in your mind, his boxers pushed down just far enough to free his cock from them, his hand stroking himself slowly.
“You’d better not cum for him.”
Oscar’s warning strikes something in the both of you. For you it’s the want to please Oscar, to keep him happy, to be his good girl. For Logan it’s a challenge, the need to see if he can make you fall apart for him while you’re being told not to bubbles up inside him.
Logan’s tongue makes quick work of you, slipping into you as his arms lock themselves around your legs, using his strength to male sure you can’t pull away.
“Logan! Logan!” You tug harshly at his hair, but to no avail.
He rolls his eyes back as you pull at his hair, as if you’re just encouraging him to keep going.
“Logan, you’re not going to like what happens when I see the two of you again.” Oscar says, his voice breathy.
He pulls himself away from you to stand up and look down at you. “Maybe. But why not have some fun while you’re away, huh Y/n?” Logan grins down at you.
He tugs his sweatpants and boxers down, kicking them away. He wraps a hand around his cock and pumps himself a few times. “If you want me to stop we will. I won’t do something you don’t want me to.” Logan tells you. You know he’s being sincere, that your sweet boy would never want to do anything to upset you, but you don’t miss the glint in his eyes that returns. “Or, tell me you want it. Tell Oscar you want it. That you need it and that you don’t care what he says.” He slowly pulls you down the bed even further. He lifts your legs so that your ankles rest on his shoulders. He softly taps against your clit with the head of his cock. “So tell us what you want, baby.” Logan coos down at you.
“I want…”
“Be a good girl Y/n.” Oscar reminds you.
You look up at Logan, a smirk on his face.
“I want you Lo, I need you.” You tell him.
He’s quick to push himself inside you, making you gasp as you take his deep thrusts. The stretch is intense, it usually was with both men, but the clear desperation in both you and Logan sent you both into a foggy haze, filled only with the desire to be as close to the other as possible.
“Logan!” You moan out, your head rolling back against the pillows.
“No, I want you to moan for him.” Logan grunts. “Moan for Oscar.”
You yelp when you feel him hit deep inside you, repeatedly hitting your g-spot.
“Oscar, Os, fuck! It feels so good!” You moan as you feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm. “I need to cum Oscar. I have to cum.” You tell him.
“Don’t cum for him Y/n.” Oscar’s warning is drowned out by a cry from your throat, quickly followed by a series of deep groans from Logan. He slowly pulls himself out of you, sighing at the feeling. He drops one of your legs from his shoulder and reaches out for his phone.
“Let’s show Oscar what a mess you are baby.” Logan says. He switches the call to FaceTime and holds the phone in front of your pussy, giving the camera a view of his and your cum dripping out of you. He then pans the camera up to your face. You’re still trying to catch your breath as your eyes slowly blink at the camera.
“Apologize to Oscar baby.” Logan tells you.
“I’m sorry Oscar.” You whimper. “I’m sorry I was a bad girl.”
“You’re both in for it when you get here.” Oscar says, already planning out your punishments.
“We can’t wait.” Logan grins, ending the call.
844 notes · View notes
jo-harrington · 3 months
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Stranger Than (Fan)Fiction - Prologue: Crossover
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Summary: Everyone wishes that they could have an Eddie Munson in their lives. In a strange turn of events, Eddie wishes that he could meet you, his favorite character from a cult classic 80's TV series. And he's about to get his wish.
Word Count: 3.9k
Pairing: Eddie Munson/Fem!Reader
Warnings/Themes: No-Upside-Down AU, Minor Angst, Fluff, Isekai, Mentions of FOI-compliant events
Note: Hello and welcome. I'm very excited about getting to expand on this idea; it's going to be a wild ride. Please note as you head in, and as we get into further chapters...this fic is going to be a little mind-fucky and a little bit self aware. This is my love letter to and my criticism of fanfiction, but at the end of the day, we're still gonna get to fall in love with Eddie and get some kind of Happily Ever After. This is my guarantee.
You can find my masterlist here.
Please do not interact if you are not 18+.
Enjoy!
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May 2022. Such a weird time.
A time of uncertainty, a time of change. A time where the world seemed like it had been torn apart and was slowly being knit back together again.
But then a switch was flipped. Something happened. An old season ended and a new one started and with that start came something new. Someone new. And suddenly, countless people began to yearn for this new person in their lives.
A new, old person. Eddie Munson.
Joy ignited. Creativity sparked. Millions of words written and read. Edits made. Art drawn. Merch bought.
So many voices crying “why isn’t he real. WHY ISN'T HE REAL.”
If there was a god, he would let them have their own Eddie Munson. And if there was a Satan, he would let them sell their souls for Eddie Munson.
That’s just not how the universe works.
At least…not this one...
October 1985. A different kind of place and time. Still weird.
But Eddie Munson was real.
Sometimes to his detriment.
And for the most part, it was alright.
He played guitar, laughed with friends, mocked bullies to protect the people like him that were considered less than. He'd overcome hardships of one sort or another for most of his life, he could keep at it for a little while longer.
It would be his day week month year sometime soon.
Wouldn't it?
But until then, he would bide his time. Hopefully, this year, he'd pass all of his classes and finally graduate. Get to flip that douchebag Higgins off and snatch up a long-awaited, and well-deserved diploma.
What made it all easier, what softened the blow...was you.
It was silly. He knew that. Ronnie used to tease him on Wednesday nights when he needed to run home because he had a "standing date with his girl."
"Your girl doesn't even know you're alive," she'd scoff as he bustled her into the van. "She isn't real."
No...no you weren't.
Why couldn't you be real.
See, for the past...however long Eddie had spent his late nights half-assing homework, planning campaigns for Hellfire, working on music, and watching a television show. His guilty pleasure, a show about the ups and downs and upside downs of living in a sleepy suburban town: Port Geneva.
A show where you were his favorite character.
And crush.
You weren't the main character--in fact, you were just the main character's quirky best friend--but you were a fan favorite, as much as he could tell. You'd only been in the background during the first season, but before long you were front and just-left-of-center. And last year, you'd even gotten a two-episode arc in the season finale as you turned the small town on its head by announcing, a month or two before graduation, that you were quitting school to follow your dream and become an artist.
And man...Eddie had been there.
He'd actually missed those episodes airing when...well, when everything happened with his father and the heist...and the house...and Paige.
He'd missed a lot of episodes that season. Missed seeing you come into your own as he tried and failed to come into his.
Thankfully Wayne--and Eddie wasn't a believer but whatever deity in charge needed to bless his Uncle Wayne--had the foresight to tape those episodes for him.
Those tapes would be cherished 'til the day he died, because they had truly gotten him through those tough days after everything.
He wished he had seen them when they aired, maybe...maybe he would have made some different decisions if he had.
Of course, Eddie had already loved you before then.
Since he had first laid eyes on you, actually.
He was sure that if you were real, you would be the one to understand him more than any of his friends. See the real him. In return, he would understand you, be there for you too.
He already had been. He'd seen you cry countless times, he'd laughed with you, celebrated your successes and mourned your failures. He'd been there for you when you crushed on that dickhead Mark, and then had your heart broken by the careless jerk.
And somewhere deep down inside of him, when he was sitting in that jail cell after he wasted his phone call on Paige and he felt the weight of the world bear down on his shoulders…he wished that you were real so he could have called you instead.
If you were real, Eddie's life would just be a little nicer.
He knew…he just knew.
Of course, in the mean time while he wished with every fiber of his being that you would walk into his life, he brought you to life in other ways. During mid-season and summer hiatuses, he would write you into his DND campaigns. His friends knew, they always called him out for it.
"Are you seriously making her an NPC man?" Dougie would scoff and throw a D20 across the table at him.
"No, what are you talking about?" he defended and threw the die right back at his friend. "This is Spiria the Bold."
"Uh huh," Jeff rolled his eyes. "Sure."
By his imagination and his pen, you became a powerful warrior, a sharp-tongued trickster, a seductive mage. You became anything he wanted you to be--most often with a companion and lover that mirrored him--and everything he knew, deep down, that you were.
And then the unthinkable happened.
September ‘84. He and Wayne were in the checkout line at K-mart. Cart stacked with new clothes and school supplies and groceries. When suddenly...there you were. Right in front of him.
Alright, not you. Per se. But your face, smiling alongside Samantha and Patrick and Scotty and Bill on the cover of the TV Guide.
On Set with the Stars of Port Geneva.
Wayne was the one to snatch the magazine from the rack and add it to their bounty, a knowing smile on his lips as he shook his head.
He knew Eddie needed a little pick-me-up.
Or a big one.
How could he have known this would be anything but one...
Eddie scoured over the pages once they got back to the trailer. He was hoping there would be a big enough picture of you that he could cut out and tape to the otherwise barren walls of his new room. And there was; you were leaning against the back of your signature pastel blue Volkswagen Beetle, arms across your chest, head tilted to the side with the signature scrunched smile you gave when you were embarrassed.
He adored you.
Before he took scissors to the page, he read the interview with your actress.
He wasn't too keen on her, even though she had your face.
The illusion that Rosemary Glass was really you had been shattered the first time he'd heard her voice on a radio interview; instead of your perfect and familiar middle-American speech...Rosemary's voice was accented.
Not to mention, she sounded pretentious.
Gross.
Still, he could look past that annoyance if he got some kind of insight to what the next season would bring for you.
Hopefully not a new love interest. His heart could only take so much.
...gives us a tour of the Patterson and Son's set, one that is forever enshrined as the setting of Patrick and Samantha's first kiss. "Oh I'm actually not fond of that scene," Rosemary confesses. "Yeah it's sweet, and the way I bring Sam in so Pat could confess his feelings but the...when I fell down? It was not scripted. And I was honestly shocked they kept that in. But fans seem to think she's clumsy now because of it. That I'm clumsy. When I just tripped over a wire. It's quite awful, really." We ask Rosemary to tell us what she'll miss most, now that the show is coming to an end...
Eddie went rigid as he read those words.
The show...coming to an end?
"What?" he exclaimed into his empty room. "No, no, no."
He carefully examined the article again, then turned back to the beginning of the feature, only to feel his heart stop in his chest.
The title of the feature was like crit hit.
The final killing blow to his already weak constitution.
One Last Summer in Port Geneva - On the Set of the Final Season
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The final season was a sham.
Eddie savored every episode, though. Of course he would!
He would enjoy every last moment with you that he could get before he lost you forever. But...he hated it.
It was lazy writing--seriously what were they thinking--and a quick, cheap means to tie up all the loose ends they'd set up over the years. He could tell they tried to deliver as fulfilling a finale for the extensive cast of characters as they could. Still, he was sure he could have done better.
Samantha and Patrick got engaged after graduation. That was lame.
Bonnie finally quit the bakery to open her own cafe the next town over. Didn't anyone remember that she wanted to quit because she wanted to be a vet instead? That was the whole point of her! She didn't want to follow in her family's footsteps and she was doing just that.
And you? You took a backseat.
Instead of leaving town right after graduation--something that you had followed through reluctantly to make your parents happy even though you had just resolved to put your own happiness first for once--you stayed to help Pat plan his proposal.
Your big adventure, your big push for your dreams, were on hold again. You played second fiddle over and over until the final episode.
Eddie was grateful to have you for a little longer, but...once again annoyed that you were looked over--over and over, just like he was--when you had already proved that you were worthy of top billing.
Worthy of being the main character for once.
Still, at the beginning of the series finale, you packed your bags, cashed in your savings account, and drove out of town. The future was yours, just like it was always meant to be.
And Eddie cried.
The whole time tears streamed down his face as you said your own watery goodbyes. He might have even waved as you stuck your hand out the windshield to say goodbye to your friends as your car idled at the last stop sign. You blew a kiss to everything you knew and loved then started on your way into the unknown, car getting smaller in the distance right before the commercial break.
He held his breath for the final scene: a walk through the house where it all started and then Sam smiled her signature hopeful smile as she shut the door on the audience.
The screen faded to black for one final time and he exhaled.
"It's over," he muttered in slight disbelief, suddenly unsure of what to do with himself.
Port Geneva was over, and you were gone for good.
It was a strange feeling.
Heartbreak, mourning, disappointment? He couldn't really know for sure. Empty was the best way to describe it; the lack of feeling. It was infuriating. Port Geneva was just a television show, he attempted to rationalize for the nth time since he started watching. You were just a character on a tv show; how could you mourn for someone and something that wasn't even real?
You hadn't actually died. He could still see glimpses of you if he wanted, whenever Rosemary Glass' next movie came out or something.
But that wasn't you.
You were gone, for all intents and purposes, and it was a blow that hit Eddie hard.
How could he go on without you?
Devastated, he got high that night after he stewed on his grief. He day-dreamed and monologued to an empty trailer about a universe where the two of you were together, where your travels took you to Hawkins, of all places, and you fell in love with him, just like you were supposed to.
If the walls could talk, they would have a fantastic tale to tell. One with heroes and misunderstandings and love at first sight. One with a horrible, unseen foe and many pitfalls and dangers that exceeded anyone's wildest imaginations. One with a magic door that led to the happily ever that was beyond well-deserved.
Grief did wonderful and terrible things, after all.
He woke up for school the next morning with cotton mouth and a vague outline of a story that did just that: brought you to Hawkins to fall in love with him and all of the other things that seemed like nonsense once he was in a more right-minded state.
The only problem was that it was all in his English notebook. And he didn't need anyone finding that.
"Fuck," he groaned and ripped the page out. He shoved it into his bedside drawer, where it would be doomed to a crumpled and forgotten future.
Or until he needed a condom.
Which, considering how everyone had doubled down on their disgust of him, wouldn't be any time soon.
But there you stayed.
Put away, like old obsessions and childish things, to be ignored and forgotten.
At least for a little while.
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Eddie tried.
He did.
He kept you and Port Geneva out of sight and mind as much as humanly possible. It was the most effort he had really put to anything tangible in the past year.
The series ended at a weird time--during the middle of the season--and some investigative journalism show took over its time slot. Barbara Walters couldn't hold a candle to you, so it wasn't difficult for him to keep himself rooted in reality on the nights where he typically indulged in his silly fantasies.
The daydreams that he had were limited to lyrics for Corroded Coffin originals and ideas for Hellfire, and nights were spent alone in the darkness of the living room, with his reflection in the television set to keep him company as he tried his best to do homework that he'd already done before.
Before he realized, though, the school year was coming to a close and he was--big shocker--on the brink of failure. It wasn't until Higgins called him into his office, again, that you made your violent resurgence into his life.
There was a tentative truce between Higgins and Eddie for a while.
Civility was a strange thing for both of them. They actively avoided one another, save for a snide jab here and there, and Eddie tried to stay out of the Principal's Office as much as he could.
That is, until Higgins was forced to tell Eddie that he needed to repeat his repeat senior year.
"Don't act like I want this at all," he sneered at Eddie who tripped over a reaction. "I'd rather have you out of these halls for good. You drop out one year, then you re-enroll and you fail another. Try to make the most of it this time Munson; I don't want to have this talk again."
Eddie grumbled the whole drive back to the trailer, and he fell onto the sofa with his head in his hands once he got in.
"Which one of the fates wrote this stupid plot for me now, as if last year wasn't enough. You can't make this stuff up sometimes."
He laid there, wallowing in his misery for hours, days, years, until it got dark enough for headlights outside to be noticeable as they shined through the window. There was a glint of a reflection that caught his eye and had him turn his head.
"TV," he sighed and reached out as though he could touch the set and stacks of tapes neatly piled below. “The cause-of and solution-to all of life’s problems.”
He contemplated his life for a few more minutes.
He could make the most of the final few weeks of the school year. He could set himself up as a willing and reliable pupil for these last few assignments and tests, even though they wouldn't mean very much.
He could do all of these things so that when he walked into the halls of Hawkins High in the fall, on his absolute last first day of school--whatever deity or powers-that-be willing, because how "getting the hell outta dodge or he would die here" turned into "two extra years in that shit hole" he could only attribute to cosmic intervention--the faculty would already know he would try his best this time.
It would show them he was serious about graduating and that he would succeed despite all odds against him. Finally.
He could do this.
Or...
He could put in one of the tapes from the stack and scrounge for loose bills left over from his last few transactions and order a pizza. Pretend like he didn't exist for a little while.
And given the choice?
Eddie Munson chose the latter.
And he continued to choose the latter throughout the summer and even into the fall.
Nights that he didn't already have plans were spent in front of the television.
They were cherished nights with you.
Aside from his VHS recordings, he found a channel that showed reruns of Port Geneva after 10pm. Two hours of small town shenanigans that might very well be found just outside of his own door--if he only went and looked--with you just there, making your appearance every so often and catching his eye.
Homework was sometimes left halfway done on the coffee table until he needed to switch out a tape, or change the channel, and he spent more time filling his heart than enriching his mind, so to speak; he knew all of this school stuff already anyways.
Third times a charm and all right?
He talked to the screen more often than not, tried to warn you against one disappointment or another. Sometimes, if he was watching one of his tapes, he'd pause right on your face and just talk to you. Mundane things, usually, like Ronnie's last phone call home or some album that got released and a song he thought you might like.
Other nights, like tonight, he got vulnerable. Moments where life seemed a little extra trying, and he'd confess his feelings to your image.
Knelt on the floor in front of the coffee table, warm light bathed his face promising comfort as he spoke, and the din of static emitted from the television set, akin to an angel's voice...beyond understanding of humans.
He'd never been one for church, but this kind of confessional was sacred enough.
An eternal bond, just you and him.
He stopped his ramblings at that thought.
It was a strange moment of clarity.
Where had that come from?
"I..." Eddie looked down at himself, a foot away from the television set, remote clenched in his hand. Then he looked at you, soul-filled eyes just beyond the glass, not looking at him, only...through him, just past him. "What am I doing?"
What was he doing? He was...he wasn't a kid anymore who could hide in his dreams; well, honestly he was always going to do that, but this was different.
One minute he felt the weight of the world lift off his shoulders as he told you about his troubles, and the next it was all back, heavier than ever, as he realized how silly this all was.
And here he was, wasting his life knelt at your altar.
It wasn't holy. It was pathetic.
You'd never answer; you weren't real.
"Why?" he asked aloud, jaw clenched. He gripped the remote tightly. "What did I do to not have...someone? Huh? What have I ever done to be alone? That I have to rely on a fucking television character to feel understood. And now I'm losing my mind talking to myself, talking to you, at midnight every night. Why am I here wishing that you're real? Why couldn't you just...be...real?"
If there was a God, he would let Eddie Munson have you. If there was a Satan, he would let Eddie sell his soul for you.
And that's how he knew neither of them existed: you didn't exist either.
Eddie hit the eject button on the VCR and was about to shut everything so he could go to bed, when there was a crash outside.
Crashes in Forest Hills weren't abnormal--someone backing into trash cans, losing traction on the icy roads in the winter, and the one time Mrs. Dawson kicked her husband out and threw all of his things out the window--but it was something he'd gotten used to since he came to live with Wayne.
This crash, however, started a ruckus.
Someone was yelling and that stupid dog across the way started barking.
Eddie was a lot of things...but a dramatic gossip was definitely high on the list.
What else was there to do in the Midwest?
He grabbed his cigarettes from the bowl full of junk on the coffee table and stepped outside, fully intent on plopping down on the old couch on the porch to smoke and watch the scene unfold.
A car crashed into the telephone pole; didn't look like there was much damage but it had run through some trashcans and might have clipped the drivers side mirror off of Mrs. Mayfield's car. The same Mrs. Mayfield who was on her own porch being held back by Max as she yelled.
"Are you kidding me? It's fucking midnight!"
"Mom! Stop!"
"The car, Max!"
Maybe there'd be a fight.
He barely got his cigarette lit when he noticed--really noticed--the offending car: a powder blue Volkswagen Beetle.
He blinked several times and then rubbed his eyes, thinking it might have just been a trick of the light or something.
Or it was a coincidence.
Or a dream.
Maybe he'd had a heart attack and died in front of his television or something?
Plenty of people drove Volkswagen Beetles. He was pretty sure he'd even heard Nancy Wheeler asking her parents for one as a graduation present.
But with the same license plate number?
The same one from the show, the same one that was in the TV Guide all those months ago. The same one on the makeshift poster he had taped on the wall next to his bed, that he'd run his fingers over to "kiss" you goodbye countless times, just like he did to his guitar.
"It's just dark," he tried to convince himself, "and I'm tired, and...and..."
It was a coincidence. It was a dream.
He repeated the mantra over and over in his head like a lifeline.
It was another fan like him who just used fantasy to make their life a little better. That's all he was trying to do too, right? He could understand; hell, if this was a new neighbor, maybe he'd be able to chat with them about the show. Wouldn't that be something?
Eddie was so distracted making up endless excuses for himself that he didn't notice Mrs. Mayfield as she threw her hands up in the air with an exaggerated "I'm calling the police. He didn't hear Max holler at her mom to calm down, or see the tail lights of the Beetle turn off either.
It wasn't until the driver's side door swung open and a sneaker-covered foot crunched against the gravel that he forgot all the excuses he was conjuring.
And his heart stopped as the driver got out of the car and stood in the faint glow of the streetlight.
Because that driver was you.
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Next Chapter: Alternate Universe
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559 notes · View notes
carolmunson · 3 months
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i'm the best thing at this party | e.m.
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up and coming rockstar!eddie munson x girlfriend!reader (is that a picture of slash? sure, but we can pretend it isn't.) aka the first time carol ever wrote a fic based off a taylor song. but in my defense, it was a chase petra cover of 'you're losing me' that inspired it. this is not connected to my rockstar!eddie x actress!reader storyline, this is it's own oneshot in a separate story.
in the early 90s, when your boyfriend's band starts to make it in the big leagues, you start to come to terms with the fact that he might not want or need a small town player anymore. eighteen plus. established relationship. angst. hurt/no comfort-ish. open ending.
"and i'm fading, thinkin': 'do something, babe. say somethin'. lose somethin' babe, risk something. choose somethin' babe. i got nothin' to believe, unless you're choosing me.'"
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The Hideout was hot with all the bodies packed in like sardines; stark contrast to the icy chill of winter outside. Glowing on the screen was The Tonight Show, everyone’s eyes glued to it while Corroded Coffin made their first national televised debut. 
No one’s totally sure how their manager Richie was able to finesse this slot – but they went to New York to film earlier in the week and didn’t ask any questions. With Richie, it's better to not ask questions and just let it happen. Eddie came home with an adrenaline rush so intense that he barely slept for three days. No matter how much you tried to keep him in bed and tire him out. 
And sure, it was hard to have him be gone while you drove out to Indy and took a friend to see the new graffiti art exhibit that came in from LA when it was supposed to be with him. It was hard to have him miss a lot of things. His return from the city only started another big talk about it, one you've been having every few months the last two years. Even so, you couldn’t help but be proud of him, proud of all of them. Remembering that just four years ago they were barely getting fifteen people in here to see them play when you first started dating. 
The crowd erupts when the camera comes off of the band on the stage and back to Leno at his desk, the boys in real life all standing on the bar. You look up at Ed and smile, he finally did it, he’s doing it. The contracts are signed, the people saw him, he’s gonna make it. He’s making it. 
You duck out of the way when they start to spray champagne over everyone by the bar, “Not my hair, babe!” 
The two  bartenders pour shots of Jameson and flutes of Prosecco while the show cuts to commercial and it’s not long before you feel the sticky chest of your boyfriend up against your shoulder, “It was good? I did good?” 
“Ed you’re…you’re fuckin’ famous,” you grin, “You’re fuckin’ famous!”
You follow while he leads you through the crowd, settled in near the back where the stage doors lead to the dressing room and out into the parking lot. He looks over his shoulder twice before he sneaks you both behind the amps; heart pounding when he leans you up against the painted cinder block walls, noses mashing when he takes your lips in his. It’s feverish, desperate when he pulls at your hips, one arm wrapped around your mid back to keep you steady up against him.
“Lemme – mmm – lemme take you to the green room,” he breathes between kisses, moving your hand toward the bulge in his jeans, “C’mon I wan–” 
“The interview’s up!” Jeff calls from on top of the bar. 
“Where’s Ed? ED? Come on! The interview’s up!” Gareth calls, the crowd erupting in a cheer of ‘Edd-ie, Edd-ie, Edd-ie!’
“Come on, come on!” you squeal, pulling away to pull him toward the front of the bar again, “You said they were gonna cut it!”  
“It’s stupid, babe,” he assures, “It’s so dumb.” 
“Ed, you’re being interviewed by Leno, this isn’t stupid,” you urge, “This is like – this is it.” 
“It’s literally like two minutes, it’s not special,” he doesn’t move when you pull him along with you, a frown pulling on your lips. 
“Eddie,” your voice raises an octave, tugging on his hand – he lets go. 
“I’m gonna take a leak,” he shrugs, heading toward the green room while you watch him disappear behind the door. Your brows furrow slightly, but it doesn’t stop you from making your way back to the edge of the bar where everyone’s eyes are glued to the medium sized screen in the corner. 
The crowd cheers again while the band is re-introduced, Eddie and Jeff sitting on the chairs with Gareth and Grant standing behind them. You admire the way your boyfriend looks post performance, nearly glittering with sweat but glowing with pride – with accomplishment. You look over your shoulder to see if he’s back from the bathroom yet, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
“So we got a group of some – what looks like – nice, respectable hard core guys,” Jay smiles. 
“I don’t know about respectable,” Eddie scrunches his nose back at the host. 
“I don’t know about nice, either,” Jeff jokes. You marvel at how relaxed and natural they all look on camera, cracking wise and getting laughs from the audience. They talk about the album briefly, and the front cover which has all four boys in caskets with a red kiss print on their cheeks. 
“So, the debut is self titled, Corroded Coffin – but it looks like you all got a coffin kiss here,” he points out, “These from anyone special? You got the girls going crazy.” The audience erupts in cheers and screams, a bra finding its way flung into the sound stage. You giggle when Gareth and Grant  hold it up, making them both blush pink on the screen. 
“Well I got a girl at home, so, I don’t hear any screamin’ if it’s not her cheering for me,” Jeff’s smile is bright when the camera focuses on him and he winks into the lens. Sasha, Jeff’s girlfriend, screeches in the crowd of The Hideout. 
“You didn’t tell me you were gonna do that!” she beams, and your heart thunders while you watch them kiss on the bar. The promise ring that he gave her back in ‘88 shines on her ring finger, awaiting something much more flashy when that first big rockstar payday hits.
“It’s definitely a change of pace,” Grant nods on the screen, “Definitely wasn’t getting a lot of girls in high school.” 
“It’s wild,” Gare laughs. 
“And what about you, Munson,” Jay asks, “Frontman like you’s gotta be beating them off with a stick.” 
The camera focuses on him, his pink lips and smart grin, a flash of teeth before he starts talking. He’s so handsome, you feel your fingers and toes start to tingle when he opens his mouth.You weren’t expecting to hear your name on national television, or be alluded to. You’d never really prepared yourself for something like this. To be declared to thousands, maybe millions, as a rockstar girlfriend.
You swallow the nervous spit pooling in your mouth, heart pattering while you run through all of the scenarios of the outcome of being ‘announced’ in your head.  
“I don’t kiss and tell, Jay,” he smirks.
Oh.
Your hearing clouds and your vision blurs – unsure of what you just heard. If maybe you imagined it, but that proves to be untrue when you feel a few sets of eyes on you. A moment of silent confusion lulls on the crowd at the bar.
You swallow the lump in your throat, fingers and toes cold now while the blood rushes to your heart and head, to your lungs which suddenly forgot how to work. Through teary eyes you look around, drowned out by the cheers of the bar when Jay announces when the album will release. You sniffle, trying to hold it back – but there he is in the back of the crowd now, eyes rounded; pleading, looking straight at you. 
The tears spill over and you try to catch your breath as you make your way through the bodies on your way to the front door. You hear Gareth call after you, hearing him stumble over the barstools while he hops off the counter. Another ragged intake of breath shakes through you while you get closer to the sticker covered door, pushing through the first set and then the other into the dark blue night. Your breath puffs white in front of you, coat abandoned somewhere back inside The Hideout while you walk across the street to your car. 
You fumble with the keys, blubbering while you get the engine started and the radio blares Al Green’s Let’s Stay Together part way through the song. In the rear view you see him hustle out of the bar to search for you, catching the start of your car and getting to the passenger window before you can pull away. 
“Wait, wait, wait,” he strains, his fingers hanging on the edge of the half open glass, “I promise it’s not what you think. Richie asked me to answer like that, it wasn’t on purpose.” 
You press slightly on the gas, making the car lurch forward and inch.
“Wait! Please don’t – don’t just go,” he begs, voice breaking with desperation, “We can talk about it.” 
You look at him through wet eyes, the street lights haloing behind his head to feign his innocence. He can talk himself out of anything.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you rasp out quietly, “We’ve done enough talking.” 
“I can…please don’t go,” he says again, “Not with you crying like this, c’mon. Don’t leave.” 
“I’m gonna go home, Ed,” you sniffle, “J-just go h-have fun inside. S’too cold to be out here.” 
“You don’t have your coat,” he states, “Come back in and get it. We can talk in the back, please.” 
“I don’t need my coat,” you garble out, “I’m going h-home.” 
“Well I’ll – I’ll bring it to you tomorrow morning,” he nods needily, “Okay? Is that okay?” 
You let out a shaky breath, fogging again against your windshield, “F-fine.” 
Eddie cracks a weak but winning smile, “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” 
“I love you,” he adds. It tastes like ash in your mouth. You pull away before you feel compelled to say it back. 
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Eddie show’s up in the morning with coffee and your coat, a small carton of donut holes for you both to share. He’s all smiles, seeing you in the kitchenette cleaning out the coffee pot that you now no longer have to fill. 
“Morning, baby,” he grins, “I brought your coat.” 
“Thanks,” you mutter, keeping your eyes on the droplets of water that race down the side of the glass pout, “You can just hang it on the hook.” 
“Are you…are you still upset with me?” his voice is airy, surprised while he makes his way behind you. Calloused hands reach around to pull your back in his chest, nose nuzzling against your cheek. Your stomach rolls, bile inching up the base of your throat. 
“Enough, Ed,” you sigh, pulling out of his hold. 
“Sweetheart, c’mon,” he huffs, “I told you already. I didn’t want to say that. But you know how Richie is! He just wants what’s best for the band and so do I! Don’t you? I thought you’d understand.” 
“Jeff had no problem talking about Sasha,” you do your best to measure your tone, too early to start yelling. 
“Jeff has the wholesome thing going for him; plus – you know his family isn’t for him being considered like, a rogue or whatever. He’s already in a metal band,” Eddie explains, like this is a totally normal conversation, “Richie even said this morning that he was getting a lot of calls.” “Okay,” you nod, sitting down at the small table in your kitchen where your coffee sits. 
“And like, a lot of people wanna do interviews with us and get hype up for the release,” he half smiles, sitting down across from you, “I told you, it was…it was a good thing. They were saying y’know like, mysterious bad boy front man is a good angle.” 
“Great.” 
“It doesn’t…babe, it doesn’t mean we can’t be together,” he leans forward, hand reaching out to touch yours. His shoulders sulk when you put them both under the table. 
“Ed I –” you let out a breath, eyes tracing a pattern on the waxed canvas tablecloth, “I can’t even look at you right now. And you wanna tell me we can still be together?” 
“What like it’s…some consolation prize?” you choke out, “You made a fool out of me. The looks I got?”   
“I know, I know, but it was for the band. You know how I feel abo—“ 
“How you feel about me?” you hold back a bitter laugh. 
“Ed, the last year or so we have kept having the same conversation over and over again. You are so, so caught up in Corroded and making it and getting there and trust me I am so proud of you. If there is anyone on the planet who is more proud than me maybe it’s Wayne, but – this is just like, this is kind of it. We have nowhere to go from here.” 
He’s quiet for a moment, his brown eyes rounding and brows tilting slightly when he realizes what you’re really saying, “What do you mean no where to go? Are you not listening? I said we can still be together, just like befo–” 
“Before? Before when?” you get up and pace back to the kitchen where he can still see you, “Before when you would cancel dates to go practice? When you missed my awards night for work  because you wanted to fill in guitar for a gig in Ohio? When you didn’t come to my poetry reading with the guys like you said you would and instead got plastered at The Hideout after rehearsal?” 
“Well I apologized for all that, that was all in the past couple years and I – look, I said I was sorry and you accepted that,” his voice raises slightly, he stands up to full height with defense evident in his stance, “You can’t just throw it back in my face.” 
“When you were gone weeks at a time for mini tours, for opening for bands on the East Coast – god, all the work I took off to make sure I was there for you? When you canceled our three year anniversary dinner, without my knowledge, because you got a call for discounted studio time on the same night,” you manage to get out, the tears inching toward the edge of your lash line, “And I sat there at the table in my new dress and everyone looked at me the same way they looked at me last night. Poor girl. Must’ve got stood up. What an idiot.” 
“Yeah well that studio time is why we were on fuckin’ LENO, babe!” he pleads, “Don’t you get that? It’s for us!” 
“It’s for you!” you break, the shrill frustration coming out with your voice, “It’s always just been for you. It’s always about Eddie and the guys. I have done nothing but make sacrifice after sacrifice, excuse after excuse to play the part of perfect, understanding, cool, laidback girlfriend but like fuck Ed, when is it gonna be about me, huh?” He stands there, unsure, cheeks sucking in between his teeth.
“And what’s on the docket for you on Friday? Have any plans?” you ask, your voice softening while you cross your arms over your chest. You lean the small of your back against the counter while you watch him. He clears his throat, hands finding their way into the back pockets of his jeans. 
“Um, we have some meetings in the morning in Indy. And then um, we’re gonna take a late flight out to LA. The label’s excited – they’re really excited,” he breathes out, eyes finding the floor and your sock covered feet.
“Oh, that’s interesting,” you nod, voice still measured, “Since we’ve had the tickets for my niece’s winter school concert on the fridge for over a month. I guess I’ll have to tell her that her favorite bonus teacher couldn’t make it.” 
“Fuck,” Eddie’s eyes shut, pulling his lips in to run his tongue across them while he thinks of what to say next. Your heart thrums in your chest, throat getting tighter and tighter while you hold back a cry – this was just another thing to add to the list.
“I can make it up to her, I promise,” his raspy nicotine voice becoming garbled with desperation, “I can make this all up to you, too. I swear. I wish you had just told me about all of this.” 
“I have, Ed. We are always having the same conversation. I’m tired of having it. I’m so tired of this. Make it up to me? How do you make up for it?” 
“I…” he chokes on his words, ringed fingers running over his face and reaching to pull his hair back off his neck. 
“Go ahead,” you encourage angrily, “What’re you gonna do? Say something. Fucking, do something, Ed!” 
“Baby, I don’t know what to…” he swallows, tears pooling in shiny wells over his eyes, “What do you want me to do? I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.” 
You take a breath through your nose and let it out through your mouth, taking the three steps it takes to get to him. Your hands fall from being crossed, reaching up to cup each of his cheeks. Your thumbs run over the apples and drag softly over the stubble left over from the night before. 
His eyes shut while he keens into your touch, his rough hands covering yours. Calloused fingertips coasting delicately over your knuckles. You know what you have to do, even if his touch makes you want to do the opposite. 
“Go be famous,” you shrug, smiling weakly, “Go be the big rockstar I know you are. Like how you wanted. Go play The Garden and live in LA.” 
Your hands slide down his face, tears falling after them, “Go do all that, and just, um – just leave me alone. Please.” 
“But I don’t–” he starts, pulling in a sharp breath while a cry leaks out of him, “I don’t wanna lose you.” 
“Oh, Ed,” you shake your head while the ache spills over into your own leveled sob, “I’m already lost.” 
“No, please,” he begs, trying to catch your hands as they make it back to your sides, “Please, baby, I’ll fix it. I pro-promise.” 
“There’s nothing left to fix,” you whisper in finality, “You should go.” 
“I don’t want to,” Eddie’s soft pink lips quiver while he speaks, “Please. Please. I can fix it, the next interview, anything, it’ll be all you. I swear I can…I can…” 
When your face doesn’t change he knows there’s no way to pull you from your stance, voice trailing off in defeat. You watch as he rips open your storm door and goes to his van, his chest and back shaking with sobs that make the hardware on his jacket cry with him.
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A year passes and you are not surprised when you find out that Corroded Coffin has made the cover of Rolling Stone. Wayne bought every copy from the gas station at the end of the road and put them in every mailbox early that morning. You don’t think there’s been a day in the last year that Wayne wasn’t seen beaming ear to ear; his boy finally getting everything he wanted. 
Life had gotten easier now that you weren’t regularly expecting disappointment. You went on few dates here and there, just trying to navigate your life after spending four years sharing it with someone else. Some nights were colder than others, but it was better than the frigidness you felt that night at the bar.
You did your best to avoid the tabloids – Eddie was certainly doing just fine navigating his life as a bachelor; some new model or actress on his arm every other month it seemed. Hardrock’s Resident Playboy. It stung the first time you saw it, and a little less each time after – heart breaker to the core; you would know, you were the blueprint.
In the same cold that matched the night at The Hideout a year prior; you sat on your steps wrapped in a robe – morning cigarette between your fingers. 
“Morning,” Wayne’s voice is gravelly when it sounds over you, still soaked with left over sleep. 
“Mornin’ Wayne,” you smile, taking a sip of the steaming cup of coffee in your other hand. 
“Wanted to uh, to let you know that the guys are playin’ a show in the city tonight. I could uh – I could get you a ticket if y–” 
“That’s sweet of you Wayne,” you smile tightly, “But I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 
“He might like to see you,” he shrugs. He hadn’t quite gotten over the break up the way you and Eddie had, convinced that this was the real deal – that he was watching young love flourish into something bigger. 
“He’s seeing someone, Wayne,” you take a drag of your cigarette, “Why would he want to see his ex-girlfriend who still lives in Hawkins? He’s got some actress girl now, right?” 
Wayne shrugs again, scratching at the back of his neck, “I never know what that boy’s got goin’ on in California outside of shows and gettin’ into trouble. Maybe he is seeing some girl but, y’know, seein’ an old friend could be good for him.” 
“He’s still got plenty of friends here he can see,” you let the smoke out to drift off in the gentle wind rustling through the line of trailers and mobile homes, “I don’t think I need to be one of them.” 
“Well, they’re gonna have a small after party at The Hideout tomorrow,” he offers, “Even if you just wanna do somethin’ fun. I never see you goin’ out anymore.” 
You laugh, “You work at night, what do you mean you don’t see me goin’ out anymore? I go out plenty.” 
His eyes linger on you, enough to encourage a thoughtful sigh – you might as well humor him. 
“I’ll think about it, okay?” you toss your half finished cigarette onto the browned grass before looking back up at him.
“Okay,” he smiles, eyes sparkling as he makes his way back inside. 
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You spend the next day deliberating between making it to the bar or not, putting in the effort to get ready and showing up. Why bother? Just to sit awkwardly in the corner while everyone flocks to the boys and tells them how great they are? They already know they’re great, they’re crawling higher and higher up the ladder. 
You haven’t even talked to Eddie since the morning he left your trailer, and Wayne knows that. He knows how bad you hurt his nephew because he came over to talk to you a week after Eddie went to California and stayed for good. ‘So why should I show my face there? So I can relive the moment he made a fool of me over again?’ You think while the hot water of the shower glides over your shoulders and down your chest. 
‘Maybe it’ll be good to make amends or something, I at least owe it to the guys,’ you figure silently while you slather on some moisturizer at the bathroom sink. And you did – not seeing Eddie meant not seeing the rest of the band. Gareth, Jeff, and Grant were your friends too, and you sort of broke up with them in the same instance. Sasha moved out to California with them soon after – it would be nice to catch up at least. You hadn’t seen her since that night. 
‘But why would I want to bother? So I can see that engagement ring on her finger and hear her talk about her wedding plans?’ you swallow sourly while you use a touch of your lipstick as blush on the apples of your cheeks. ‘Remember all the times you thought you and Ed were gonna get married? Hilarious.’ 
Before you know it, it’s 11:30 and you’re standing outside of the sticky and stickered covered door of The Hideout. Even from where you’re standing the bar is a buzz like a hive, energy inside like a livewire when you get into the entryway, showing your ID to the bouncer at the inside door. 
‘Small after party my ass, Wayne,’ you think to yourself when you get in, shrugging off your coat. There was barely room to move and most of the lights were off or dimmed aside from the small stage in the back. By the looks of it, they must’ve played a small set – an intimate ‘home base’ concert for the real hometown fans. You push through some of the crowd, acrid smoke haze hovering over the room. A single bar stool sits empty at the end of the counter close to the wall and before you can think about it, you beeline straight there before someone else can grab it. Not that anyone would be able to see it through the six couples making out to Slayer blasting through the speakers. 
The bar tender notices you soon after, coming over to get your order while his two cohorts speedily pour shots and mix drinks. You almost don’t want to get anything just to make the night easier, but opt for a beer instead. 
“How much?” you ask over the music. 
“WHAT?” the bartender shouts, holding a hand to his ear. 
“HOW MUCH?” you yell back. 
“ON THE HOUSE. BAND IS COVERING DRINKS,” he shouts back. You take a few dollars out while he pours your beer anyway, sliding it across the bar with a smile. He smiles back, pocketing the ones with a wink before helping another person leaning over the bar. 
The TV takes your attention, a tape of their recent interviews and music videos playing on a loop with no sound. The beer is almost comforting as it passes over your tongue, it’s been some time since you just sat in a busy bar – and for the most part, no one here even knows you. For the most part. 
A call of your name snaps you back to reality, looking around to see exactly who you thought you would. Sasha. And low and behold a ring sparkles bright on her finger, a breathtakingly big diamond glittering in the neon lights behind the bar. 
“Hey!” you call back with a smile, sick crawling up your throat. You watch as she fights the crowd to get over to you, wrapping you in a tight hug while you stay seated on the stool. 
“How have you been? You look gorgeous,” Sasha’s tan skin glows back orange in green while the lights change, tight dark curls bouncing prettily around her face. 
“I’ve been good!” you nod, your voice hardly sounds like your own, “Y’know just – hanging around Hawkins. How’s LA? How’ that ring?!” 
She holds her hand out so you can really see it, her skin is warm in yours while you take her fingers. It’s more beautiful up close, the marquise diamond flanked by two smaller triangles in perfect harmony. 
“He did so good, Sash,” you giggle. 
“I slapped his arm so hard when I saw it,” she laughs, “I said, ‘Jeff we could’ve bought a freakin’ house!’ but you know how he is.” 
“I do, I do,” you nod, “Did you set a date?” 
“Probably not for another year or so if we do a big wedding,” she shrugs, “Maybe a little longer? We think it’s smart to actually buy a house first – with this kind of money coming in. And y’know, the industry is, uh, well, it can be wishy washy. What’s in today could be out tomorrow. We wanna be smart.” 
“Well thank god he’s marrying someone like you then,” you tease. 
“That’s true,” she beams, “Do the guys know you’re here? I can go grab J–”
“No, no, they don’t,” you interrupt, taking her arm gently while she turns to leave, “You don’t have to tell them I’m here. I’ll go find them, I promise.” 
Sasha gives you a half hearted smile, “Okay. Well – We’re sitting over by the stage if you wanna come say hi to the guys. Gareth would lose his mind, and Grant brought his new girl with him, she’s so cool. They met in LA and she’s like, got the sickest punky-goth type of thing about her.” 
“I love that he’s in love,” you gush. 
“Me too,” she nods, “The girls are obsessed with him out there.” 
There’s a silence, but it’s knowing – still one person yet to have been mentioned but you both seem to understand it’s not worth bringing it up. Sasha reminds you that they’re by the stage, giving her a wave while she disappears in the throngs of people in the crowd. 
Half way through your second beer and a couple of random conversations with people later, you see him in glimpses while people pass by. You can tell by the smirk on his face that he’s flirting, and when more people move and re-disperse, settling, you see glimpses of her, too. Some cute young looking thing, you wouldn’t be surprised if it was her twenty-first birthday. All doe eyed and giggly while he leans over her against the wall near the booths. I guess whoever he’s seeing in California isn’t too important.
He looks good, healthy, you can tell his clothes are tailored now – sort of comical that a tailor would fit and adjust ripped jeans and an old leather jacket. Not that he has to know you think it’s funny. 
Eddie leans forward and lets his finger tap her on the nose, a tell-tale sign of his that they’ll kiss later. He’s used that move on you more times than you can count. He did it the night you met, tipsy at a party at Gareth’s – tapped you on the nose, making you scrunch it. 
‘Aw, if I knew you’d make a face like that I would’ve booped you way earlier.’ 
‘What do you mean? What face?’ You scrunch again. 
‘That face,’ he bites his lower lip, blush on his cheeks, ‘It’s a cute face.’
You expected it to hurt more, to watch him active in his element; but it doesn’t. You know the motions, you know his tells, he next move. You can see it in the way he leans into her and then leans away – almost kissing her, but leaving her wanting more. You smirk into your next sip, counting down the moments until he puts their conversation on pause to do their rounds and finding her again later. Gotta keep her yearning, you guess. He certainly was always good at things like that. 
You don’t see their reunion, you assume it was somewhere near the stage where the band and Sasha were. At the end of the night, the boys play a goodnight mini-set, just three songs. You’d never seen Ed so in his zone in your life, fully basking in the glow of upcoming stardom. Every chord and every lyric punching out of him like the sweat pouring from his hairline and chest. This was what you wanted, what you told him to do. 
Go be famous. And here he was. Famous. Just like you said he would be. 
Water takes the place of your beer while they play; and you know better than to get up and join the crowd. Much happier sitting at the end of the now more empty bar just listening instead of getting potentially punched or tussled with amongst the bodies. 
People take their time leaving when the set is over, shrugging on their coats to brave the cold weather. 
‘Thanks for comin’ out to celebrate with us – now get the fuck out so our buddies at the bar can go home before four!’ 
You savor the conversations and music settling down to a much quieter murmur while you sketch on a napkin. A few people you shared niceties with tap your shoulder to say goodbye, new friends you’ll never see again. On the other end of the bar you hear Grant and his girl order a round of shots. Your head almost pops up at the sound of his voice, but that might bring attention to you that you don’t think you really want. Now that the night is over, you’re glad you came. If anything, just to see that they were making it just fine – and they would have with or without you. 
With less people in the bar you can hear Sasha’s laugh in the back where the stage is, and you laugh into your napkin turned sketchpad. Her laugh was always infectious, enough to make the crowd follow suit. You grab a fresh napkin from the pile next to you and start to doodle again while you figure out how to best leave without anyone catching wise that you’re here. Out of the last twenty people left at the bar, a little more than half knew who you were.
The tap of the pen on the bar top while you think blends in with the tinkling of hardware that gets a little louder the closer it gets to you. A squish of leather and drag of a barstool later makes you privy that someone’s next to you. Spiced cologne and sweat sheened skin. 
“You come here often?” 
Slowly, you turn your head – level with brown eyes you haven’t looked in for a year, just in the glossy pages of magazines you’d leave behind at the grocery store or Melvald’s. 
“I used to,” you offer a quiet tired smile, leaning your chin on your hand on the bar, “It’s been a while.” 
Eddie smiles back, soft, cautious, “Yeah, same for me.” 
You both don’t speak for a moment, adjusting yourselves on the barstools while a few more people head out to leave. The jingle of the door fades out, crunches of the parting patrons’ sneakers and boots in the snow sound outside.
He clears his throat, bringing your attention back to him – the curls of his hair, the slight stubble on his jaw and cheeks. His bottom lip tucks between his teeth for a moment before he turns his chest toward you. 
“Can I uh, can I get you a drink?” 
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lucyandalexiafan · 4 months
Text
blow off steam | Alexia Putellas x reader | part 1
summary: since Alexia got injured two weeks ago, it's obviously that she needs to blow off steam; so, after the umpteenth attempt by her to have your attention, you ask her to take control, to completely dominate you.
Warnings: dom!Alexia, sub!reader, kneel at Alexia's feet, Alexia' fingers that fuck reader's mouth while reader in kneeling in front of her, humping shoe, face slaps (three times), humiliations, degradations, use of pet names / slut, light jelaous!Alexia, dirty talk, praise, hair pulling.
words: 3131
Do not copy, translate or claim my works and fics as your own; if I find out I will report them and block you. Instead, write to me, my directs are always open, and ask me if you can publish your work/fic inspired by one of mine. However, you can reblog them!
Nb: English is not my first language and I’m not sure if it’s “blow off steam” or “blow of some steam”. I searched online but I didn’t understood, so I’m sorry if it’s wrong the way that I used
I turn off the TV interrupting the program that Ale is watching, the umpteenth trashy program.
Since she was injured two weeks ago, she has become unbearable.
She doesn't come to the field during training hours anymore, she doesn't go out, she doesn't cook, and she doesn't do anything other than be on the phone and watch stupid programs on any TV channel or streaming platform.
It doesn't bother me that she behaves like this or, at least, I understand her, I try to understand her; so I do everything for both of us without protesting, without emphasizing how to take care of the house, shopping all the different type of food required by our diets, cooking different dishes for me and her every lunch and dinner (due to the variation of her diet), do not combine well with the study for my master's degree, with the research I am doing, and with my training with the team.
I don't protest, I don't snort, I don't say anything. 
I accept any comment about how overcooked the chicken is, about the fact that the bread had to be soft wheat and not whole wheat, about how messy the kitchen is.
I didn't even comment on the fact that she delegated the care of her dog to me alone, even though she can walk.
I accepted to study all night and write those essays at unreasonable hours, risking not completing my homework or showing up not prepared enough for meetings with university tutors, as well as showing up for training tired, exhausted and with less and less energy.
But today... today it's too much.
I had started studying in the kitchen, on the counter, because I had started cooking dinner and lunch for tomorrow; Ale was watching television. She knows, she knows, how much I hate having too much noise around, how much the overstimulation is a problem for me because of my ADHD, how much I go into crisis when there is too much chaos around me, no longer being able to concentrate and control myself, always ending up looking around, trying to figure out where all the voices are coming from and, when there are too many, ending up on the verge of tears.
She knows it.
But, despite this, she had started using TikTok at maximum volume at the same time as the television, creating an annoying chaos that could not even be masked by the music that passed through my headphones.
I had asked her to turn down the volume several times, I had even texted her asking her to stop because I had to study, telling her that it was important that I end that essay within three days, before the last game before the Christmas holidays.
After half an hour of trying I couldn't take it anymore, I got up, took the remote control and turned off the television.
"What are you doing?" she asks irritated.
The sharp voice.
I bite my lip.
We haven't had sex in two weeks and I haven't had an orgasm for three, and seeing her so angry floods my belly with sharps of pleasure.
Ever since we had started experimenting with sex, since Ale had started to be dominant in bed and I had started to feel free enough and trust her enough to be completely submissive, we had established 'rules'; one of the ones we started experimenting with first was about orgasms. 
No orgasms that aren't given by her or that she doesn't allow me to have.
It had not only increased libido and feeling in bed, but also communication. Since we had established this rule, we had begun to talk much more about sex, to describe how we felt and to provoke ourselves; I had begun to no longer feel embarrassed to express my sex urge or tell her what I needed. 
Begging her for what I needed.
So, after exactly three weeks since my last orgasm, I'm extremely needy.
Ale, at the same time, is extremely angry, disappointed, and resentful, about the injury and I know, I'm sure, that she would like to blow off steam on me, on my body, but she is afraid to ask for it, to do it. She's afraid because she's never done it before, because she's always afraid of hurting me and because she knows what I've been through in the past.
So now, because she doesn't want to express this need, she is short-tempered, rude, arrogant.
I kneel on the ground, in front of her, my legs slightly apart.
I look into her eyes.
She swallows the saliva, the phone still in her hand, as she jams her eyes into mine.
"I would like you to take control – I say, my voice trembling with embarrassment – I need you to blow off steam on me and I need to be dominated, to let you be in control"
I bite my lip.
The fear that he will refuse, that she will say no, that she will think I am crazy, increases when she does not respond immediately.
"You don't know what you're asking for, little girl" 
The low voice, the seraphic tone.
"I want you to take control Reina, I want you to punish me, I want you to use my body"
She lay her phone on the couch.
"You don't have to do it for me, i-"
"I want it, Ale, I need it as much as you do" I whisper, pleading, looking into her eyes.
Nails playing with a little skin on my index finger.
She nods.
"Are there any things you don't want me to use or do?" the tone is the one she uses on the field when she's the team captain.
That confident tone, which admits no reply.
"No, Reina"
I touch her right calf with one hand, the need for physical contact advancing in me; I play with her skin, just massage her.
She grins, looking at me.
She looks at me, her face slightly tilted.
She bites her lip, as if pondering my request.
"Now I'm going to make you a list of items or practices and you have to tell me with safewords which ones are green, which ones are yellow, and which ones are red, okay? – I nod – What are your safewords?"
"Green to continue, yellow to slow down, red to stop"
"Good girl - I twitch my thighs, a knot in my belly, as her hand brushes my cheek, a satisfied look as she looks down on me – then let's get started"
After a few minutes, I had established green orgasm denial, spanking with hands and belt, the use of the collar with the leash, the use of ropes or more generally in bondage, penetrative sex with both fingers and dildos, the use of plugs and strap-ons, degradation; yellow overstimulation and preventing me from speaking by putting objects in my mouth; red blindfold. However, I asked her if she could use pet names from time to time to reassure me, so the degradation and humiliation were not the only channels of communication during a scene we were experiencing for the first time.
I clasp my hands on my thighs, my belly invaded by contractions of pleasure.
"Have you had any orgasms since the last time I got you one?" the tone is so low that it gives me goosebumps.
"No, Reina" I hurry to answer; a marked blush colors my cheeks and neck because no matter how much we talked about sex, how much we started experimenting in bed more than a year ago, I will never stop being embarrassed when we talk about these things.
She grinns with satisfaction.
"Something as needy as you hasn't had an orgasm in three weeks, hm? – she asks as she strokes my cheek with her thumb, a fake smile of pity adorns her face – Does your need to be a good girl, to please me, also beat your need of an orgasm?"
I look down immediately, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.
How can she make me so submissive, so needy, with just one question?
The panties are soaked, I feel them being uncomfortably attached to my intimacy.
"Yes, Reina, I just want to please you"
She moans openly at my answer and I see the muscles in her legs twitch.
I close my eyes to the sound.
"I don't think I told you that you can not look me in the eye"
I look at her, eyes slightly wider, position more rigid as I try to hold her gaze.
"I'm sorry Reina," I whisper guiltily.
We haven't even started and I'm already breaking the rules?
She looks at me for a moment and then her gaze, that sadistic, excited look, softens; a sweet, loving smile replaces the grin that had begun to adorn her face since she began to list what she could and couldn't do tonight.
"Amor, this is the last chance I'll give you to stop everything before we start, before I start punishing you and then take you to the bedroom, where only the safewords will make me stop – the suddenly cautious, sweet tone, like it's never been in the last two weeks – I'm not going to get angry, resentful or irritated if you tell me you don't want to go on anymore or that you're not sure anymore, baby, but I want you to tell me before you start because I don't want to start without being sure that you want it as much as I do; we will cuddle and maybe watching a film, order some takeaway food"
Her hand on my cheek, the back of my index and middle fingers caressing my skin.
I look at her, every fear gone, every tension leaves my body. 
She is always her, the sweet, caring, loving girlfriend who would never hurt me or continue something I don't want. 
No matter how much she needs to blow off steam, she would never hurt me.
I shake my head.
"I... I want to do it Reina, but-but only if you want it completely too" I answer, my voice trembling with embarrassment, but my gaze fixed on hers.
She smiles.
Her beautiful smile.
"I love it when you call me Reina, I'll never stop saying it" she whispers as she runs her thumb over my bottom lip, as she frees it from the grip of my teeth.
I open my lips allowing her to stick it past my teeth, into my mouth; she pushes it all in, until she hits my chin with her palm. I lick it slowly as I look straight into her eyes.
After a while she replaces it with her index and middle fingers, pushing them into my mouth slowly, and then she starts to move them, as if to fuck my mouth.
I go along with it, licking her fingers, opening and closing my lips against her skin. 
She groans looking at me.
"So submissive, at my feet, while you call me Reina – she pushes her fingers harder into my mouth, until she touches my chin with her palm again, and touching the back of my throat, gagging me – My dirty filthy slut"
I gasp.
I place my hands on her knees, as if looking for a support to hold on to while she fucks my mouth with her fingers.
She sneers.
I look at her from below, her lips slightly open twisted into a grin, her eyes veiled by sadism, her cheeks flushed, her tongue occasionally caressing her lips, her brow furrowed, the hair of her forelock escaping the grip behind her ears.
"Hands behind your back, I don't think I told you you can touch me" 
I groan in surprise as I hurry to do what she says, squeezing one hand into the other until my nails are in my palm.
The tips of her fingers touch the back of my throat with each thrust, and with every moan I make, she grins; She tells me to breathe through the nose when she realizes that, due to gagging, I struggle to breathe through my mouth.
She continues like this for some time that seems like minutes, she fucks my mouth with her fingers, her gaze alternating between my eyes and my mouth, a sadistic grin, until she takes them off completely.
I moan, finally free to breathe through my mouth.
She wipes the fingers against my cheeks, the back on one cheek, the inside on the other; the trickle of saliva that still connects them to my lips.
She puts her hand on my right cheek and I know what's going to happen.
"Disobedient little girl – the first slap is light against my skin, more for the scene than for anything else – Twice you disobey my orders and I didn't even touch you"
I gasp looking at her, her lips still slightly parted.
Then, as she walked away, her hand hits my cheek.
We both moan at the same time, her greasing and lowest, mine louder.
No matter how much I expected it, it's getting more and more exciting every time.
"Color, little girl?" she asks, an attentive look on my face trying to understand what I think about the slap.
"Green... green Reina" I moan.
"Dirty little," she whispers as she caresses my face, "So needy just because I fucked your mouth, hm?" she asks, as she runs her fingers over my lips, but without pushing them any further.
"Yes-yes Reina," I say cautiously in response.
Then, suddenly, she moves one leg between mine until I feel her foot, covered by her favorite and most expensive pair of shoes, in contact with my intimacy.
"Hump my shoe, slut" 
It's an order said as she leans back on the couch. She opens her arms, resting them on the headboard of the sofa.
I wade at her, my eyes wide open with the request, but my pupils probably dilated with excitement. I'm incredulous.
"Color, little girl?" she asks when, after a few seconds, I don't move, her voice warm, lovely.
"G-green Reina – I whisper hesitantly, realizing the time that has passed, realizing that by doing so I was disobeying – I'm sorry"
She moves her torso toward me, her hand grabbing a hand of my hair. "Do you want to add a third punishment to the two you've already earned, hm? – I answer with a faint no, Reina – Then, move" she continues, her tone suddenly more authoritative and dominant, no longer disguised as feigned pity, her back coming back into contact with the sofa.
I bite my lip and moan when I feel her shoe move slightly against my clit.
"C-can I put my hands on your leg Reina?" I ask, my voice faint, the need to touch her, for physical contact.
"Aw, little girl, can't you even keep your balance? Okay, grab my leg. You can lean against it however you want," the mocking tone.
My hands grab her calf.
My torso is against her shin as I slowly begin to move.
I'm wearing thin shorts and panties made of almost non-existent fabric, so with every movement I feel the relief of the shoelaces against my clit.
I moan, I whine, unashamed.
I squeeze her leg as I rest my head on the lower part of her inner thigh, just above the knee, breaking eye contact. 
As soon as the tip of her shoe starts to move against me, putting pressure on my hole, I start moving faster and faster; I'm not sensual, I'm not pretty bent over her, my back arched out, my head down.
"Dirty little slut," she says while her hand scratches my scalp "How does it feel to hump against a so expensive shoe that I've been looking for months in any shop in Barcelona, to be so slutty that you seek satisfaction and pleasure by rubbing yourself on a shoe without shame?"
I whine in humiliation.
"Please Reina, can I... can I-"
Her hand clenches in my hair, forcing me to look at her.
"Don't even try. This is just the beginning – she hits my cheek again – Did you think it would be so easy after disobeying me?"
I bite my lip, looking at her with the most puppy look I'm capable of; my vision slightly clouded by excitement and tears.
I open my mouth a couple of times, attempting to speak, but no sound other than a moan comes out.
When she notices that I am not responding, she stops moving her foot. "Color?"
"Green" I answer immediately, as I continue to move on her shoe, hoping that she will move again.
The shoelaces against my clit.
The contractions of pleasure in the lower abdomen.
She grinns as she looks at me.
She reaches down to kiss me, her hand still in my hair.
Then, as it all began, she moves the shoe away from my intimacy.
"How do you feel, hm? What would people say if they could see you like this, at my feet, desperate after humped my shoe like a slut, hmm? What would our teammates say if they saw you like that? – she grins, the hand that makes pat pat on my head – How do you think Aitana and Ona would react, mh?"
I close my eyes.
"None of them will be able to make you feel like that, reduce you like that, like I do. Not even Lucia. It doesn't matter how hard they try"
"Please, please," I whisper as I tighten my fingers around her knee.
The humiliation becomes pleasure, contractions of pleasure stronger and stronger, when she starts talking about the team, about my friends, about Lucy.
Of her jealousy of Lucy, caused by the fact that we are so close friends and that she is also dominant in bed; the eldest is openly dominant in bed, while Ale is much more modest in making her sexual performances public to the team. Modesty for which I am grateful, but which makes her feel clearly in competition with the English player.
"Please what, little one?"
Cheeks that burn when I hear the pet name.
Her fingers forcing my chin to look at her.
Her blonde hair is tousled.
"Touch me, please Reina... I-I need to-"
Humiliation breaks through my legs, which I immediately clench.
To be at her feet, to call her Reina, to be so desperate.
"I just want you, Reina... I... on-only you. No one else," she moans, "I beg you."
"Get up, go to our room and strip. I want you on the bed, on hands and knees. In less than ten minutes I'll be there."
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suiana · 4 months
Note
yo i saw ur rb && feel free to write about the renting concept!!! if u do pls tag me i’d love to see <33 😋
😻😻 rhanks genie
(yandere! rental boyfriend x gn! reader) (shitpost kinda) (concept based on this post)
you know, it's not like you were ugly, dumb or poor. in fact, you consider yourself rather attractive, smart and quite rich. but it seems that no one has noticed that which... might've been why you were single for a very long period of time.
very meaning from when you were born up until recently.
you had always desired for a relationship. wanting to experience the joys of love, the romance, the contentment you get whenever you're with that special someone.
unfortunately you never got to experience that. never. even after putting down your dignity and renting a boyfriend.
you had rented a rather pretty looking guy from this... dodgy website called 'rent-a-darling'? was that the name? it probably is. what a weird website it's called. anyways, it was basically a rental boyfriend/girlfriend website and you had absolutely struck gold with it.
perfect face, perfect body, incredibly intelligent... he was basically a work of art. and his personality wasn't half that bad either! he cracked jokes and they were entertaining enough! he made you laugh, feel better about your miserable love life...
but he just wasn't it.
so you decided to end contact with him. there was no point in continuing that rental service anyways. it's not like he'd like you back even if you fell for him.
except that was exactly what happened?? a few days after you officially ended your contact with your absolute god of a rental boyfriend, he showed up at your doorstep, panting as a lovesick look paints his beautiful features.
you were concerned to say the least. after all, you had never seen him act in such a way before. which was why you allowed him in... which led you to your current situation which was far from ideal.
"could you let me go please? my arms are sore..."
"you know, you're really cute like this."
you merely sigh in response, looking away as you grow awkward under his obsessed gaze. this has been the fifth day since he tied you up, only allowing you to leave the bed for meals and the toilet.
and in those five days he's openly admitted to be in love with you.
while it was nice and endearing to hear such words, you only wish it was from someone you actually loved back. and maybe not as crazy as this guy was.
"can you please let me go? do you want money or something? i can give it to you-"
"what i want is your love, and that cannot be bought with money."
he interjects promptly, still smiling at you with his pearly white teeth which were honestly starting to creep you out. why were they so white? why was he so objectively perfect? and why was he madly obsessed with you?
"hey can i just ask something? why are you so obsessed? like just why."
he pauses for a second, hummung contently as he shuts his eyes for a bit.
"I'm not sure why,"
his eyes open again and he continues his sentence. this time, you can't help but feel an impending sense of dread in your gut when he speaks.
"i guess i just really adore you."
he then giggles oddly, tugging at your bedsheets as his face nears yours.
"you complete me, my love."
you grimace as his face nears yours. ugh, what you wanted was that lovey dovey shit you saw on television. not whatever this was. kidnapping and constant moans of how your captor loves you.
but oh well, it is a relationship. just not the one you wanted. maybe you could learn to deal with it-
"darling! if you tell me how much you love me, block everyone else you know, leave your job, and promise to run away with me, I'll untie you! how about it?"
...yeah, you're not dealing with this. perhaps you're just not meant for love.
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gglitch1dd · 10 months
Text
The Contract Pt2
Context: When you broke up with Katsuki, you thought it was the end for you. No marriage. No family. No white picket fence. You had spent so much time on Katsuki and now it all just fell to the wind. But what if a certain green haired hero offered you a contract, offered you the dream life of security and happiness all for the small price of being his wife? Love wasn’t in the plan but maybe it was in the fine print.
Basically: Reader dumps Katsuki and goes for Izuku.
Main Pairing: Midoriya Izuku x Reader
<Part 1> <Masterlist> <PART 3>
You weren’t sure what to call your relationship with Midoriya. It was something you never thought you could have again. Something with a mixture of giggles and laughter and feel good moment. Neither of you were perfect obviously, he had his workaholic issues that you often had to remind him to take a break with and you were getting back into doing your work. However, you looked forward to your little late night meetings with him that had turned to even seeing each other in the day.
It was a Thursday night, not much happening on television other than a broadcasted interview between ProHero Dynamight and ProHero Deku on a Night Live Show. The two heroes sat in two separated cushioned chairs opposite from the host and both looked seemingly comfortable, however anyone who knew them knew that it wasn’t the case.
Midoriya sat back in a button-down white shirt that had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He was seemingly relaxed, his fingers adored with silver rings as he looked over to the host attentively, like he always did when he was being interviewed. “Deku, you’ve spent the five years being the Number One hero,” The studio burst out into applause and shouts of praise making Midoriya smile almost bashfully. He acknowledged the audience with a wave and a grateful nod only making them cheer louder. Bakugou rolled his eyes at the cheers. “And the whole of Japan has seen you save the citizens of the country countless times. You’ve done so much for this country and in your line of work, which we all greatly appreciate.”
“Well, I do hope so.” Midoriya commented jokingly.
“We do! We really do and yet, we can’t seem to help notice… your lack of a future Mrs or Mr in your life.” He motioned towards the green haired hero.
A small red blush sprung up to his face only making the audience giggle and coo at his reaction. No matter how much older he had gotten, the confidence that he had racked up as well as  the strength and build he had worked hard for, pushing himselfto be bigger than what he once was, Midoriya would forever stay Midoriya. There were certain traits that would never changer, like how he would blush when he was embarrassed, or how when he did allow himself to cry, it would be big rivers of tears spilling from his eyes. There were somethings about him that would never change.
Midoriya cleared his throat as he adjusted his seating. He tilted his head slightly, allowing a green curl to fall on his forehead, shifting with him. “What makes you think I don’t have a partner?”
Before the host could answer, “Oh please, Deku.” Bakugou began rolling his eyes to the heavens. He sat lounged in his chair with no care in the world, the aura of confidence surrounding him as he sat as if he owned the place. Bakugou adjusted the glistening expensive watch on his wrist as he turned his crimson gaze to Midoriya. “If you had a partner, I would know about it.”
Midoriya let out a disbelieving laugh, eyebrows raised at such a statement. “Why the hell would you know?”
Bakugou motioned with his arms openly, almost as if the reason was obvious. “I’ve been forced to be your friend for years.”
Midoriya scoffed as he looked to the side. “Some friend you are.” He mumbled loud enough for the microphone to catch.
“Oi!” Bakugou sat up, if it wasn’t for the fact that his PR team was screaming in his ear he probably would have stood up and confronted Midoriya. Bakugou motioned back towards the green haired prohero. “It’s just like I said at the gala a two months back, you rarely have a partner on your arm.” He pointed out.
Midoriya sighed. “Not this again.” He rolled his eyes. “Maybe I just don’t want to put my partner in the spotlight, ever think of that?” Midoriya asked with a tilt of his head with a glare.
Before Bakugou could retaliate, the host sought to take back control of the conversation (half-heartedly- he too wanted to see how the conversation would end). “That is very true. With being a hero comes with the unfortunate reality of you and your loved ones being in danger.”
Midoriya motioned to the host with a pointed look angled at the blond. Bakugou softened his expression for a moment, immediately making the hairs at the back of Midoriya’s head stand up. “Deku, it’s okay…” Bakugou nodded his head sympathetically almost as if he was trying to be understanding. “If you don’t have anyone at the moment, no one is going to judge you.” Midoriya’s face fell to one of emotionlessness. Nothing but an empty dead stare that instantly made everyone else uneasy. The blond shook his head with a tsk. “Already just hit the big thirty mark and you’re still alone, but it’s okay. You aren’t the only one. There are plenty of singles out there, just like you.”
The green haired man was silent, unmoving for a hot minute as he just stared at the blond next to him. It was sickeningly silent in the audience as well. Midoriya didn’t move, didn’t blink, it was almost as if he was frozen in time as he stared at Bakugou. The host attempted to open his mouth and say something, however, Midoriya raised his hand, indicating for him not to say anything. And like hell was the host going to say something when the Number One hero of Japan looked just about ready to commit murder.
Bakugou wasn’t wrong. There were many singles out there, and yet the only one that came to Midoriya’s mind was you. The green haired man smiled, finally breaking his emotionless façade. He smiled almost warmly as he released a sigh, leaning back dispelling the tension around him. He scratched the back of his head. “Well, I guess there’s no use in hiding it now.” He let out with a shrug. He looked towards the host. “He’s right, I don’t have just a partner.” Bakugou smirked in satisfaction as he leaned back in his chair, about to let out the biggest laugh in history. “I have a fiancé.” That made Bakugou pause.
The host’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “A fiancé?” He asked with a tone of curiosity.
Midoriya nodded with a chuckle. “I know right, I’m surprised too that she said yes. I mean, not to shrug myself off but- I was hesitant because of my work and everything, yet she’s just so understanding. She’s the most beautiful woman to me.” Midoriya looked down into his lap with an almost fond expression. “She… she has the way of instantly relaxing me and just bringing out something in me I didn’t think I had. It’s almost comical how I feel with her, almost as if it isn’t even real. Like I’m in some sort of dream.”
The audience was gushing at his words, eating up everything he had to say on this apparent mystery partner of his- one that he had been keeping hidden for so long. Bakugou looked at Midoriya in pure and utter disbelief. His eyes wide as he stared at Midoriya, not believing a single word that had just come out of his mouth. Midoriya looked to him with an innocent smile and a tilt of his head. He leaned forward, covering the microphone on his shirt as he moved towards the blond.
“Not all of us are attention seekers, Kacchan.” He whispered to the blond. “Some of us just choose to be smart about things.” 
You had just ordered yourself takeout for the night, mainly because you were in no mood to cook for yourself. The whole day you had been so busy in meetings and working that you had barely had any time to just relax, check what was on the television, and check your phone for longer than five minutes. You sat the takeout down on the coffee table in front of you. Just as you were about to dig in, there was a knock at your door.
Specifically your balcony door. You chuckled as you stood up. Midoriya came over tonight. How he seemed to have a habit of knowing when you had food at the ready was beyond you, yet you found it funny somehow. With a small sigh, you walked to your balcony and opened the door. “Midoriya, I find it funny how-” You stopped talking when you noticed something very important.
That being Midoriya on one knee with a wedding ring gleaming up at you. Your eyes widened bigger than saucers as you looked down at the green haired hero in front of you in the moonlight. He had a velvet box in hand were the diamond encrusted engagement ring sat gleamingly. He looked up at you nervously with a smile. “Y/N will you make me the happiest man in this world and marry me?”
You looked down at the ring and then to Midoriya. You closed the door in his face, turning around to go eat your take out.
“Y/N!” You heard whining at the door. “Y/N please!” He sounded like pitiful puppy that just got kicked out.
You paused. He was making noise and it was night time. God knows what sort of explanation you would have to give your neighbours if they went onto their balcony and saw the Number One hero standing outside your door. You groaned as you turned back around. You opened the door, making his face light up with a smile. Before you could talk to him, you pulled him back inside with a scowl. “What are you doing, Midoriya?” You asked him as you closed the door. “Have you gone crazy? Are you drunk?” You turned to him in disbelief.
Midoriya walked up to you with a gentle expression. He put his hands on your shoulder and smiled gently. “Listen, I know that this is sudden but I promise you, I’ll take care of you. I’ll support you and we’ll be such a good team together.”
You folded your arms and looked up at him with a pointed look. “What did you do?” You asked him. He hesitated to answer you. You huffed and turned to go put on the TV.
Just as you were about to sit down and ignore the giant green haired man in your living room, the headline shocked you. The reporter had a smile on her face as she covered the story. ProHero Deku’s fiancé. You switched off the TV.
Midoriya didn’t have a fiancé. Or at least not one you knew of. Then you slowly turned to look at him. Midoriya had awkward smile on his face. He let out a nervous chuckle as he scratched the back of his neck looking at you. “My love…”
“No.” You got up and walked to your room.
Midoriya let out an exasperated groan. “Oh come on!” He turned and followed you as you walked to your room. “Please, just marry me.”
You chuckled. “Midoriya, I don’t know what drugs you are on, but I suggest you stop taking them.” You tell him. “I am not going to help you keep up with a lie you told.” You walked into your room with a huff, settling in on the edge of your bed, folding your arms.
Midoriya followed you inside, not giving much thought to the fact that he was in your bedroom. “Please.” He begged. “Kacchan was pressurising me and I felt attacked. I had to do something about it!” He threw his arms open. You only gave him a look that made him sigh. He dropped his shoulders as he tried to think of a proper explanation to give you. “Look…” He crouched down in front of you, putting his arms on his knees as he looked at you. “I know that what I said was irrational and stupid. It was thoughtless and careless, but I didn’t just come over to you because you were the first person that came to mind. I didn’t just come to you cause I thought I could easily persuade you.”
You lifted an eyebrow, having gotten intrigued by his words. You didn’t say anything at first, wanting to see where he would take this. You couldn’t act as though that this wasn’t one of the reasons you thought of him as crazy, nor act as though that wasn’t something you hadn’t stopped to consider. As much as whatever was going on was damn right crazy and shocking, you also knew Midoriya and you knew he didn’t do things without reason.
Midoriya waited for your go ahead. You sighed and motioned with your hand, indicating for him to go on. He smiled and stood up. “Think about it, we could use each other. I need a partner, someone who understands hero work and the hero scene but also someone I get along with.” He was standing in front of you, within arms reach. He motioned towards you, indicating that you were that person. “You could use me to further your career with the commission. You know how the commission is, all connections and influence. What greater influence do you need than being married to me?” He motioned to himself with a somewhat confident smile. You raised an eyebrow with an amused scoff. “Plus, you get all the benefits of marrying me.”
“What benefits?” You asked.
“Well I have great medical and life insurance.” He listed on his fingers. “I am an elitist. I have more money than I know what to do with. I am funny and charismatic, loyal and trustworthy. I have a lovely mother who would be the best mother in law-”
You chuckled as you lowered your demeanour. “Izuku, all those things are great and all but…” You stood up trying to match him (despite being undeniably shorter than him). “We aren’t even dating.”
Midoriya grinned. “We can have our first date at the courthouse?” He asked optimistically which only made you burst out laughing. At the sight of your laughter and much more eased demeanour, he smiled gently. “Hey, we get along great and I know you said you don’t believe in forever when it comes to love. Not anymore at least.”
You looked away from him when he said that last part. He wasn’t wrong. It was hard to believe in love and forever in the same sentence when you had fallen in love with a man you thought you would spend your forever with. You had fallen for him, loved him till death and look where that led you? It led you heartbroken and seemingly forcing yourself on your own for years. It was hard to commit to love when you had put in your whole being into Bakugou Katsuki for years and it all amounted into nothing in the end.
“Hey…” Midoriya pulled you closer towards him, his hands on your shoulders, gentle and yet reassuring. He had a soft and almost adoring look on his face. A mixture of understanding and hope on his face. His green eyes holding nothing but sincerity as he looked down at you. “I’m not asking you to love me, if you think you are unable to do that.” You looked away from him not entirely knowing how you were feeling. “But I do know…” He lifted his hand and gently redirected your gaze up to him. “I do know that we know each other well enough as friends, to make something work. Even if it isn’t forever.”
You sighed. “Midoriya, I’m tired of wasting my time. I’m not getting any younger.” You stepped back for a moment reflecting on what you wanted in life. “I… I wanted to settle down, you know? Have a partner, kids, a pet... the whole nine yards.”
“You can still have that.” Midoriya urged as he took a step forward. His eyes almost pleading with you to try and see it in how he was explaining it to you. “You don’t trust love and that’s fine, but what’s better than a relationship based off of friendship?” He wasn’t wrong. Most relationships that had friendship as the basis and not just love often lasted longer and were better home wise too. “And I want kids too.” He motioned to himself. “It’s a win-win.” He grinned.
You raised an eyebrow but the amused smile on your face never left. “I’m not sure I want my kids to have green hair.”
Midoriya looked taken aback, a hand to his chest as he furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s wrong with green?” He asked, offended. “My mother gave me this hair colour, thank you very much.” He folded his arms.
You chuckled. “No offence to your mother, I’m sure she’s a great person, but you look like a tree!”
“We…” Midoriya was speechless for a moment, before letting out a soft scoff. “We can have saplings together.”
“My God!” You turned around as the both of you started laughing. You shook your head with a pointed look. “You did not just do that.”
“I did and look, we can cross that bridge when we get there if you still want to. However, I don’t see anything wrong with this.” He shrugged. “Besides…” Midoriya carefully turned you to look at yourself in the mirror that you had. He stood behind you, moving to keep you facing to look at the reflection of the both of you. His smile turned into a soft smirk. “See it like a contract, between me and you.” He commented. “A contract that will get revenge on Kacchan and Kirishima.”
You hesitated at that part. The thought of revenge pricking your interest the most and Midoriya could see it on your face as plain as day. His smirk broadening at the sight of it. “I… I don’t know…”
“Come on, I know you’ve been hoping for a chance.” He spoke truthfully. “A chance to show them just how much they hurt you but also just how powerful you are without them. This would be a blow to Kacchan’s pride worse than anything. His ex-girlfriend in the arms of his rival.” The grin on Midoriya’s face and the hint of mischief in his eyes made you pause. It was something that twisted your stomach and made you pause. The look of pure wanting in revenge too. A look that overshadowed everything as the glint of danger and a hint of chaos danced in his green eyes. It was something you never thought to see in his eyes but something you felt addictive to know that it was there. He moved his head closer to yours, his lips to your ear. You watched him, unable to look away. “Just say yes,” He spoke quietly and determined. “And I’ll have the whole of Japan eating out of the palm of your hand.”
You were enchanted. It was something Midoriya was able to do. Most of the time you found him less of a rabbit and more like a snake. His jade eyes enchanting you and pulling you into his tight grip where he would have you right where he wanted you. And with the way he looked down at you, you had no will of your own to say anything otherwise.
You nodded your head, your bottom lip relaxed and out as you turned your head to look at him dead in the eyes. “Yes…” You let out quietly your eyes catching on the way his lips spread into a smirk. “When do I sign?”
Midoriya grinned as he turned you to face him. “Tomorrow.” He answered you. “My lawyers have already written up a contract we can go through and approve of.”
You nodded as you moved to the door of your room. You stopped for a moment, a hand on the doorway. You raised an eyebrow and looked back at him.  “How did you know I would say yes?” You asked him amused that he already had the contract written up.
Midoriya was silent only for a moment before shrugging. He smiled gently. “Why would you say no?”  
You rolled your eyes at his confidence, turning back to go warm your take out. “Maybe I didn’t want to get married to a tree.” You pointed out. You moved back to grab the take out off the table.
“A very handsome tree!” Midoriya pointed out, which only made you laugh. He moved into the kitchen with you, grabbing plates automatically. “So what’s for dinner?” He asked with an innocent smile.
You shook your head with a chuckle. How he always managed to come in when you were about to eat was unknown to you, once again. But with that dimpled smile on his freckled face, who were you to say no. “Takeout.” You pushed the boxes into the microwave, warming them back up. “I was not gonna cook today, and talking about today,” You turned around as you put your back to the counter. You folded your arms as you faced him. “We need to talk about us and our history. How did we meet? When did we start dating? How did you pop the question?” You listed trying to get him to get the idea.
Midoriya hummed as he copied your body language to stand opposite you. He nodded his head agreement. If the two of you were going to sell the plot of being in love and soon to be wed, you would both need to know everything about each other. More than just the fundamentals but also your whole story together. There couldn’t be single point the both of you weren’t aligned on. “I agree and for an easy starter, I already knew you when you were dating Kacchan, which is true.” You nodded your head, understanding where he was going. “Then after the two of you broke up we stayed in touch.”
“We didn’t do that.” You notified him.
“Yes, but it can be fabricated.” He waved it off as if it wasn’t a big deal. You raised your eyebrows in surprise. He shook his head as he thought more on it, then his eyes lit up as he realised something. He tilted his head and looked to you about to point out something. “When you were in Portugal, during your time abroad, I also went to Portugal for a conference. We were both in the country for three days at the same time.”
You tilted your head. “Really?” You asked in surprise; however, you didn’t really look online to find out whether your friends were out of Japan or not.
Midoriya nodded his head. “We can make up some excuse of how we met up and just couldn’t stop talking since.”
You hummed. “Okay… but how about the fact that we told absolutely no one about this?” You pointed out, putting your hands on your hips as you gave him a pointed look. That’s when the microwave dinged and you took out the takeout. It was steaming hot and already you could smell every spice and flavour dripping from the food you had chosen. You grinned as you made your way back to the sitting room, Midoriya following you with soda cans in hand.
“Oh that one is easy.” He informed you. “We didn’t want anyone to know yet. We wanted to make sure before telling anyone.” He sat you both down on your couch.
You set down the food and he set down the drinks. You both got comfortable thinking this all through. “You know there’s no going back on this.” You reminded him quietly as you looked at the soda can you had put in your hands. “Once it's out there, it’s out there. I... I don’t want you to regret your decision.” You spoke quietly as you fiddled around.
Midoriya could see right through your statement. He could see the insecurities and the fear of being rejected and cast aside yet again. He could see the fear of ridicule and misfortune. He knew you didn’t want to be alone anymore. Who would? But he also knew that you were scared, because at least if you were alone, you wouldn’t get hurt. He smiled gently as he reached forward, taking your smaller hand into his own. You looked up to see his eyes were filled with kindness and sincerity. It was so gentle and comforting, you almost felt emotional looking into them. “I don’t think I could ever regret anything when it comes to you.”
-Glitch1d
Taglist: @cillshot @stxrrielle @doomedengineer @chims-kookies @fabii275
https://archiveofourown.org/works/48492484/chapters/122336080
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01zfan · 4 months
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third | j.sc
boyfriend!sungchan x fem!reader | 3.9k words
this is a mature work, minors do not interact
third base - touching below the waist (without sexual intercourse) or manual stimulation of genitals.
contains: established relationship, mutual masturbation, f. fingering, switch reader and switch sungchan if you squint. only slightly proofread.
base series: first | second | third | homerun
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you looked at your boyfriend sitting at the foot of your bed. you could feel the gentle kneading on your feet, trying to dull the ache that was brought on by being on them all day.
this was becoming a part of your friday night routine. sungchan would pick you up from your late night shift at work and drive you home while you complained about customers and laughed as you recounted funny moments with your coworkers. sungchan always listened attentively, also in shock at the stupidity of the customers you had to deal with. sungchan would talk about his day then he would drop you off in front of your house, coming around to open the door for you. you would kiss and say goodbye. then he would drive off.
this was all a part of the master plan you came up with to sneak your boyfriend into your parents house. the front door camera would see him drive away after waiting for you to close the door to go inside. what the camera wouldn’t see is sungchan park his car at his friends who lived in the same neighborhood as you and “sneak” up to your window so you could let him in. you enjoyed being rebellious, and he enjoyed humoring you. you loved watching sungchan pull himself up through the window into your room. sungchan would never admit it but he loved showing off how easy it was for him.
even in the dark of your room looking at his back you could see the tentative and concise movements. his white tee moved in tandem with his ministrations on your foot. the fact that he was perched at the end of your bed like a little bird while being gigantic never ceased to amaze you. he carried himself similarly to a large puppy. so innocent and playful, while not knowing his true size. there were moments where he would lay on you and you would have to pinch him to get him off. he often picked you up like you weighed nothing, and you still weren’t sure if he knew how you felt when he’d lean against a wall looking down at you. the only illumination from the television helped you see through the negative space in his shirt. did he even know his muscles rippled underneath that white tee, that his shoulders were so broad?
you almost felt guilty when he turned around and smiled at you laughing at a funny part in the show. 
“this show is hilarious, babe.” sungchan told you, shaking your feet slightly for emphasis.
“it is but you can’t be too loud my parents might hear you.” you said trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. you wanted to jump his bones more than anything, but you atleast had to give the illusion that you weren’t completely objectifying your boyfriend behind his back.
“oh you’re right. i completely forgot.” sungchans voice went completely down to a whisper and that made you smile. he turned back to the show and started massaging your calves.
“you’re really tense.” he whispered.
“sungchan.” you whispered matching his volume.
“hmm?” he looked at you again with his pretty brown eyes. “want me to go back to your feet?”
“can you come up here instead?” it was a struggle to sound neutral. something was in the air, you usually weren’t this desperate. 
sungchan gently set your legs back on the bed and crawled over to you. he sat up next to you leaning on the headboard. it felt like there was an awkward blanket surrounding you two. it was strange, even during the awkwardness in between moments of intimacy you still felt adrenaline bubbling underneath your skin.  he was your boyfriend, intimacy wasn’t new to either of you but it always felt like the first time without fail. maybe that comes with the territory of being young and in love, you feel on fire constantly. 
you put a hand on his thigh, patting him trying to break through the moment. sungchan instantly puts his hand over yours.
“thanks for the massage. and for picking me up from work. and for sneaking through my window.” you grab his hand and kiss it. sungchan slowly sinks down from sitting on the headboard to lay next to you. 
“no problem. i love doing stuff for you.” he said it with no hesitation. like it was his second nature. maybe he really was a puppy.
you slowly leaned forward to kiss his nose. it was a simple peck you pulled back as soon as you went in. when you saw sungchan’s face get a little red. you two held contact like that for what seemed like centuries. both chests heaving in anticipation, grinning ear to ear like idiots. him looking down at your lips gave you the confidence to go back in for a kiss right on his lips. 
sungchan immediately took control of the situation, putting a gentle hand on your cheek to pull you closer. the other hand rested on the nape of your neck, as a guide to help you deepen the kiss. your hands opted to rest on a shoulder with his shirt in a vice grip. your teeth occasionally clashed together, not used to this slightly awkward angle. you reluctantly pulled away. sungchan’s hands still rested on your body. his lips were swollen and had a pinker tint than usual. 
“is something wrong?” his blown out pupils only made his eyes more expressive, slightly worried he went overboard.
“can you sit up?” 
“yes. of course.” sungchan said a little too quickly propping himself on his arms while his back leaned against the headboard. you could see his curious face light up from the television as it cut to another scene. whatever was showing was long forgotten as you put your legs on either side of him. 
your bout of courage to straddle sungchan subsided. now he was the one looking up at you, mouth slightly open. sungchan always looked at you with such awe and curiosity. how did he land in your bed with you on top of him, guiding his hands to your hips? he knew he was the luckiest man on earth when you pulled him close to kiss him again. you pulled him in, desperate to get a close as possible. sungchans hands moved to the small of your back. you could feel his large warm hands resting there, splayed out to cover the most area possible. when you put your tongue in his mouth his hands on your back pulled you in.
you two were chest to chest. sungchan tilted his head to get a better angle. you will admit you were still clumsily going through the motions of kissing. you weren’t sure when to tilt your head like sungchan was doing his, or how to properly incorporate your tongue into kissing. all you knew was that you were ravaging him, not able to get enough. you knew sungchan felt the same way because his arms wrapped around you, caging you in. he had you surrounded the best way possible. the need running through your veins gave you another dose of courage to grind against him. sungchan broke through the sound of kissing with a moan. you began letting out breathy pants and whimpers. you were desperate to let him know you were enjoying everything.
sungchan’s hands were now on your waist. you two had taken a break from kissing to rest forehead to forehead looking in eachothers eyes. sungchan looked at you, not breaking eye contact as he slowly pressed you down on the hardness in his pants. you let out another moan, nodding your head and gripping his shoulders. he looked down where you two were touching, mouth agape. 
you could no longer kiss him, too focused on trying to swivel your hips to feel that pressure. sungchan’s grip on you was only getting tighter, his breathy moans becoming more frequent.
you leaned back moving your hands to grip his thighs. using your leverage you were able to control the pace and feel every inch of him. his gray sweatpants and your pajama bottoms allowed both of you to feel the pressure. your head lulled back when sungchan helped you slowly drag against his whole length. when you looked back up sungchan was staring at you. he looked ready to eat you then and there, eyes low and staring directly into yours.
“i can do this all night,” sungchan said, a smile breaking on his lips “you’re so good at this.”
“take your shirt off.” you pushed yourself off his thighs and went to the bottom of his shirt, pulling it up. sungchan lifted his arms up and took off his shirt with one hand. you moaned and began rubbing your hands all over his body. so defined, brought on by hours of discipline and exercise. everything about sungchan was so hot you could barely control yourself anymore.
“you want it bad, huh?” sungchan teased. his hands dipped underneath your pajama pants to grab handfuls of your ass. he used the grip to move you against his length again. “no underwear.”
“i never wear underwear to bed.” you said. sungchan throbbed underneath you. “and you’re the one that picked me up dressed like a slut.”
sungchan’s laugh boomed in your room. you were knocked out of your current state to bring a hand to his mouth. you didn’t pull your hand away until he had stopped laughing. you smiled on instinct, despite trying to be authoritative.
“a slut?” sungchan made sure to whisper.
“a white tee and gray sweatpants is the sluttiest thing a man can wear.” you said with a serious face but you couldn’t stop the tone from coming out jokingly.
“so you were degrading your poor sweet boyfriend while he was rubbing your feet?” sungchan tried to pout, but the way he pulsed in between you let you know he liked it.
“oh but i’m very grateful.” you smiled, slowly resuming movement of your hips. sungchan caught on quick, his big hands moving to guide you again.
after building the tension back, sungchan pulled you in for another kiss and you happily obliged. it wasn’t long until you could feel the wetness seep through your thing pajama shorts. you knew that evidence of your arousal would be all over sungchans sweatpants.
“i’m really wet.” you whimpered in between kisses. 
“can i see?” sungchan pulled at your waistband, letting it hit snap back against your skin. your body was on fire as you nodded, moving your body backwards on the bed. sungchan moved to a sitting position, trying to give you as much room in front of him as possible. it was almost awkward moving backwards in a crab walk position, but sungchan’s hand on your knee egged you on.
once in a good position you propped yourself up on your elbows and with your knees raised slowly opened your legs more and more. sungchan watched attentively, swiping his finger over your clothes slit. 
“wow,” he sounded amazed. “you’re so wet.”
sungchan’s finger went back to your pants. rubbing up and down slowly. your body twitched in response, the teasing becoming too much.
“can i turn on the lamp? i wanna see you.” sungcchan’s other hand that was on your bent knee rubbed soothing circles, trying to get you as comfortable as possible. 
“yeah you can.” 
sungchan turned his body to your bedside lamp. without his hand on your knee, you instinctively let your knees come together, trying to cover your lower half. 
the light came on and you were suddenly hyperaware of the growing wet spot on your pants and sungchan’s sweats. you could also get a better view of sungchan’s body, his abs flexing as his hand went back to your knee.
“you’re so cute.” sungchan said smiling. his reassuring hand gave you the confidence to spread your legs again. he went back to drawing his finger up and down your vagina. sungchan honed in on your clit, the bundle of nerves that was slightly protruding out. you couldn’t stop the moan from coming out and he slowly circled your clit.
“feels really good sungchan.” you wanted to close your legs again on his hand in efforts to keep it in place till you reached your climax. but sungchan’s hand was steady on your knee, with just enough force to keep them apart.
“can i take these off?” sungchan asked quietly and he reached for your waistband again. you nodded and lifted your hips up, giving him the room he needed to slide your bottoms off of you. 
sungchan sucked in a breath as all of you was put on display for him. you weren’t sure if you were imagining things but you swear you could see him twitch in his pants. sungchan was staring at your center, both of his hands running up and down your thighs. he slowly pressed his hands on either side of your inner thighs, forcing you to spread apart more. now you were really on display for him.
“you like what you see?” you asked playfully. the tent in his pants was making you feel powerful.
“i love it.” sungchan sounded breathless as he stared at your center. his dick clearly jumped in his sweatpants as his hands got closer and closer to your heat.
“you off your pants so i can see how much you love it.” you used your fingers to spread your pussy out even more, showing him how you were clenching around nothing. 
sungchan took his pants off quickly, heeding your request. his dick bobbed up and down, resting on his stomach. it was solid and hard, a little bit of precum dripping from his tip. 
he let his legs spread out on your bed, making his body even larger than before. he looked like a sculpture, each muscle carved delicately carved out in stone.
“you look like a painting, babe.” sungchan spoke like he had just ran a mile. his hair was haphazardly pushed back, he didn’t even want to take the time to move his hair out of the way if it meant taking away from looking at you. “just for me to look at.”
“only for you.” you moaned pushing up your pajama shirt to reveal your boobs. you touched them tentatively, already so sensitive.
sungchan is the most articulate person you know. you just didn’t mean speaking, though. sungchan is always very purposeful with every action, sentence, and to you it seemed like even his thoughts were well managed. you always reveled in his discipline, especially when he would describe to you his day. school, workout, homework, eat, sleep. he was always very in control of everything while also being the warmest personality in the room. sungchan’s control was one of his strong suit, so it always took you by surprise when an action or unregulated thought slipped through the cracks.
he was also very considerate. he never wanted to make you feel pressured to do anything, to the point where he would never initiate touching first. so when sungchan’s face heated up in embarrassment after telling you he masturbates to the thought of you like this, all spread out and on display for him, your face heated up too.
“sorry. i didn’t mean to say that.” sungchan smiled sheepishly. you couldn’t stop imagining him in the confines of his room, thinking of you while he touched himself.
“c-can you show me how you touch yourself when i’m not there?” you slowly pulled your finger in and out of yourself, gathering as much slick as you could. sungchan watched you carefully as you dragged your finger on the underside of his dick, giving him extra lubrication to jerk himself off.
sungchan got the hint quickly. he spread the precum on his tip and your slick together up and down his length. after an experimental stroke he slowly leaned forward, bringing his hand to your face. you looked at him in confusion.
“spit.” sungchan said, the most impatient you’ve ever seen him.
after letting some spit dribble from your mouth, sungchan brought the same hand to his mouth and spat roughly. 
sungchan let out a ragged breath and he gently stroked himself, slowly at first. he looked at his hard dick fisted in his hand then looked to you. he kept eye contact and you looked everywhere as you watched him in awe. his stomach flexed with each stroke, his slow hand making himself twitch. his arm was picking up a slow but steady pace, and you watched as his index finger spread the precum from his tip around.
you have never seen anything like sungchan, and the way his pupils were blown out he must’ve thought the same thing about you. you fully took off your pajama shirt, letting him get a full view of your naked body. sungchan moaned, quickening his pace slightly letting his head fall back. 
“what do you think about when i’m not there?” you asked. this brought sungchan’s gaze back to you. you were tempted to start fingering yourself, but you were too caught up in watching sungchan chase his pleasure.
“i think abouttt—fuck. i think about your body.” his voice was so close to becoming whiny, still trying to keep his composure for you. 
“what about my body?” you asked. you began applying pressure to your clit, trying to egg sungchan on.
“your boobs. your ass. your curves. everything about you is so perfect.” sungchan used his spare hand to wrap around your thigh. as quick as his hands were on you, he pulled you closer to him. you were so close to him now. he guided his penis to slap your spread pussy. you gasped out loud at the sudden action. “i think about this pussy the most, though.”
sungchan went back to jerking himself off, you couldn’t help but slip a finger into your heat.
“i think about you all the time too.” you confessed. you were desperate to catch up to where sungchan was. his pace was steadily increasing as he watched you finger yourself.
“what do you think about?” sungchan asked curiously, looking at you finger yourself. “put another finger in, baby.”
“your hands,” you said while putting in a second finger. “they’re so soft and longer than mine.”
“you can’t hit all the spots that i can, huh?” sungchan smiled down at you. he took a hand that was gripping your thigh to reach down and rub circles over your clit.
“n-no. it doesn’t feel as good when i do it either.” you were squirming underneath him. between your fingers and his, you weren’t gonna last much longer. 
sungchan noticed you getting closer and closer. he had completely abandoned jerking himself off to keep a hand on your clit. you felt his other hand creep its way to your heat. when he slipped a finger into you as well, you couldn’t help but moan loudly.
“we gotta be quiet right?” sungchan looked down at you from the headboard. all you could do was nod and bite your lip. sungchan looked at your fucked out face, bending down to kiss your cheek. sungchan made an effort to pick up the pace of your fingers and his. 
“so cute,” sungchan smiled at your furrowed eyebrows, kissing the space in between. “it’s kinda like we are holding hands.” he put an emphasis on his words by touching your fingers. it was all so lewd. the squelching, the moans, the fact that you could feel yourself clenching around you and sungchan’s fingers. 
“i’m close.” you whimpered.
“i got you.” sungchan increased the circles on your clit and you quickly grabbed his dick, jerking him off.
“i want to fuck you so bad.” you moaned, swiveling your hips. his finger was so close to hitting that spot deep inside of you, the one that was just for him.
“no condom babe, gotta be responsible.” sungchan was laughing at you in your desperate state. him laughing at you only made you more desperate, something about the way he mockingly pouted over your neediness. you changed your motions to match how he was jerking himself earlier. his expressions changed almost immediately, getting harder in your hand.
“i’m close now too. keep going please.” sungchan bent his finger inside of you and you had to bite hard on your lip to hold it in. you brought a leg to his shoulder and he immediately attached his mouth to your calf, sucking on the skin.
you came first. it hit you suddenly when sungchan pulled your fingers out and added another one of his. you ended up pulling him closer with your legs, making him bend over. sungchan’s head rested on your stomach as you rode his fingers, one hand on his shoulder digging into the skin. he let out sympathetic whimpers to match your moans. he kept murmuring “i know, i know” as you came down from a high thats been building up for hours. 
when you were done, you used all strength left in your body to sit up, so you could kiss sungchan. his fingers were still inside of you and your hand was still on his dick. you kissed him deeply and started jerking him off again. you wanted him to finish, to see that same feeling of ecstasy that you got to experience.
“fuck.” sungchan pulled away and rested his face in the crook of your neck. “just like that.” he whined.
you kept going, and he took his fingers out of you to to let his hands touch all over your body. you felt his large hands grab your breasts, your sides, your ass, your shoulders, everything. sungchan started to whimper in your ear.
“im about to cum.”
you responded by picking up the speed. sungchan let out on final whimper and he started to slowly collapse against you and could feel his cum go down your hand, dripping on your thigh and core. he continued to whimper and moan in your ear as you quickened the pace.
“oh my god.” sungchan gripped your shoulders as he pulled away to look in between the space of your bodies. he could see the mess he was making on your thighs and core. he slowly leaned back against the headboard, whining as you kept going. “fuck fuck fuck.” 
you didn’t stop until sungchan pulled your hands away and put them at your sides. he was breathing so heavily, chest raising up and down. his eyes were wide open, clearly trying to come down from the overstimulation. seeing him in such a weak state made you want to keep going, but you couldn’t when he pulled you into his sweaty chest. you instead made a mental note of overstimulating your boyfriend in the near future. sungchan pulled you closer to his body and rubbed a soft hand up and down your back. this was his signal that he was done and spent for the night, wanting to cuddle with you and bring you close as possible. you turned around, so sungchan was resting on your chest. you pulled him in even closer and you went to rubbing his head and playing with his hair, something you loved to do to calm him down.
“that was fun.” sungchan said, looking up at you from your chest.
“it was.”
you and sungchan were quiet for a few moments, just holding eachother.
“do you think your parents heard us?”
607 notes · View notes
Text
when i think about you, i touch myself
pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader
summary: you & eddie have been friends forever. when he arrives early to your house one day to hang out, he encounters something unexpected.  part 1 of 2.
word count: 2.6k 
warnings: smut, obviously. basically reader touches herself and eddie watches, unbeknownst to her. 
a/n: i don’t know if anything like this has been done yet, so i’m sorry if it has! i have no time to read or see every single fic out there. if you want added to the taglist, let me know! also, this should go without saying, but minors DNI. 
_________________________________
Hanging out with y/n had always been a major highlight for Eddie. The two had been friends since her arrival in Hawkins during Eddie’s second senior year, when she herself had entered her first & only senior cycle. She chose to remain in Hawkins after she graduated, a fact that left Eddie completely baffled. She was smart, she was driven, she could grab the world by the ass if she wanted, so why stay in a shitty town like Hawkins? In any case, though, Eddie was glad that she was still there; it gave him something to look forward to, aside from Hellfire Club and shows with his band.
Weekends belonged mostly to them, unless they had other obligations. She also never missed one of his Tuesday shows, and they always hung out together afterward. They would go to one of their homes–usually hers–where they listened to music, smoked weed, drank beer, and just enjoyed each other’s company. Not only did they have fun every time they were together, but they were each other’s rock. Eddie didn’t have a best friend–hell, he barely had a handful of real friends–but y/n was as close as it got for him. When something good happened, she was the first he went to so they could celebrate together. When he needed to vent, or was angry, or frustrated, she was the first he came to so that she could calm him down; it was something she was damn good at doing. They knew everything about each other–or at least, almost everything. Eddie had a secret, one that he would never dare speak aloud. 
He was in love with her. 
He could even pinpoint the exact moment it happened. It was close to the end of the 1984-85 school year, and that particular day had been terribly rainy. Neither of them had an umbrella or raincoat, and by the time Eddie had driven them to her place, it was coming down like a damn waterfall. Both had become soaked in the short distance from Eddie’s van to her front door, and they had to change into drier clothes right away. She’d put on a long shirt with shorts beneath, and she gave him some oversized clothes that she believed would fit until his own were dry. Once they were toweled off and changed, they sat on the couch to watch a movie before her parents got home. Eddie didn’t even know what the film was, nor could he tell anyone if he tried to remember. y/n had taken to lying against him, cuddling close as he held her in turn. The warmth of her body, the sound of her laughter at the film, feeling her just existing against him as her focus remained on the television…it had been the most beautifully simple thing in the world. It had opened an absolute Pandora’s box of emotions for him, and he fell fucking hard for her.
He could never tell her, though. He knew that someone as beautiful as y/n would never love him in return, nor would she ever want to. How could she, when she was a goddess and he was Eddie Munson? He was a freak, an outcast who drank too much, did too many drugs and dealt even more, was a high school senior at the age of twenty, and played D&D with a group of teenagers. Not only that, but she was always dating someone–in school and out–or gushed over this person or that person, so the feelings were likely unreciprocated. Eddie felt as if he deserved an award for not losing his shit and revealing his true feelings in the process, every damn time someone new entered her picture.
But, little did he know, things would soon change with the most unexpected turn of events.
***
One day, when Eddie and y/n were set to hang out, Eddie was supposed to practice with his band first. To his equal delight and dismay, however, the session was moved to the following day, due to another obligation of a bandmate. So, instead of waiting several hours to go see y/n, he decided to go over a little early and surprise her. He had a pack of beer and a bag of weed with their names written all over it, and was ready to unwind with her. Metallica blasted from the van’s speakers, jazzing him up as he drummed on the steering wheel and sang along. He was having a blast, and by the time he reached y/n’s, he was bursting at the seams with excitement. He wanted to get stoned off his ass, kick his feet up with a beer, and find ways to make her laugh. To him, her laughter was the best music, and he was so happy that he could bring it out of her the way he did.
Eddie pulled in behind her vehicle, killing the engine and getting out with his goods. He discovered that the front door was locked, and found the key in the hiding spot she’d once shown him. He let himself in, looking around at the empty place upon entering. It was eerily quiet, which was confusing to him. She had to be home; her vehicle was parked outside, but it appeared as if no one were there. Worry soon stole over him, and he hastily placed the beer & weed on the nearest surface before frantically searching for her. He was paranoid that something could be terribly wrong, and he knew that he would never relax until he was certain that she was alright. 
He found out where she was soon enough. As he was turning a corner to walk into another room, he heard moaning coming from upstairs. It wasn’t a painful, distressed sound; it was pleasurable, and loud enough that he heard it downstairs. Eddie stopped in his tracks, listening closely to see if he’d been correct. It was silent for what seemed like forever, and Eddie began to doubt what he heard. But then it came again, a little louder than before, and he knew that he was right in the first place. He assumed that the sound was coming from her bedroom, and Eddie couldn’t help but feel jealous at the thought of her with someone else. She wasn’t even his girlfriend, but goddammit, he was desperately in love with the girl. How much longer could he endure seeing her with other people, before it finally broke him or drove him to confess his feelings? The universe was always playing some kind of sick joke on him, but dangling y/n in front of him & then yanking her away had to be the cruelest, by far. 
Eddie listened again, inching up the stairs to get closer to her room. He heard no other voices, and no sounds that indicated she was having sex with someone. He was perplexed, but kept moving, being careful not to make any noise that would alert her. He wanted to see what was going on, and whether she was with someone else or not; he wouldn’t be able to let it go until he knew. He was aware that, while his curiosity would eat him alive if he didn’t investigate, he may not like the answer that he received. He needed it, anyway, and mentally prepared himself for what he could potentially find.
Eddie followed the sounds of her moans to her bedroom door, already feeling like a creep. Her door was open a sizable crack, and he could see through it well enough without having to open it any further and possibly giving himself away. He was relieved to see no one else in the room with her, but y/n was still moaning as she lay upon her bed. A thin blanket covered her lower half, one arm thrown above her head as the other was hidden by the covering. It clicked for Eddie what was going on, and he swallowed thickly as he watched her hand moving under the blanket. She had a shirt on, but no bra, because he could see her nipples clearly poking through the fabric as they hardened. 
While Eddie was completely stunned by the sight, he knew that it was wrong to stay. To do so would not only be such a perverted move, but it would be a complete invasion of her privacy. He reluctantly forced himself to look away, feeling flustered as he turned to leave. He would just have to come back later, at the original time he was supposed to; a few hours wasn’t too bad to wait. But damn, did he really want to stay and watch her, no matter where the hands on his morality compass sat. He had an obligation as a good friend and a decent human being to leave her to her own devices, but seeing her like that? The very girl that he’d thought about in the same way, many times, was touching herself right in front of him; to say that he was torn was a serious understatement. 
Eddie cursed under his breath, and took two steps toward the stairs. That was as far as he got, because he’d frozen dead in his tracks by what he heard next. His big brown eyes only widened, and if he’d still had hold of the stuff he brought with him, it would have dropped to the floor. The same sound came again, and Eddie swivelled on the spot to assure that it wasn’t wishful thinking. But no; it had been clear as day that second time, and then it came a third.
“Eddie!”
His name, coming in the form of a hot moan from inside of her bedroom. The first time, he’d wondered if she had seen him before he had walked away and was simply calling for him. He was in utter disbelief that she would be fantasizing over him to begin with, because why on Earth would she? Eddie did ponder the notion that it could be another Eddie, but did she even know anyone else with that name? His mind turned over every conceivable reason, but y/n did not stop saying the name. Eddie forced himself to walk back to her door, peeking in to see what she was doing. What he saw caused his breath to catch in his throat, and his gaze was immediately glued only to her. 
The blanket was down a little further, barely covering y/n’s lower half. Her fingers were working faster, and Eddie could tell from the placement of her hand that she was most likely rubbing her clit with her middle finger. The arm that was previously above her head was now grabbing at her throat, rubbing her neck before dipping inside of her shirt to grab her breast. Her back arched and her eyes squeezed shut, and she cried out as she began pulling on her nipple. The hand below the blanket slid down further as she toyed with her breast, and she gasped loudly at the sensation. A filthy string of moans escaped her, and Eddie could only assume that she was fingering herself at this point due to her new hand placement. 
Eddie could feel blood rushing to his cock, and he stood rooted in place as he continued to watch. He felt like some sort of disgusting creep, and he didn’t know how he could look her in the eye ever again. At the moment, however, the most rational part of his brain had gone out the window. His jeans were growing tighter by the second due to everything she was doing to herself in there, and his mind was now clouded with lustful judgment. Every stroke of her fingers, every pinch of her nipple, every sound she made, it was driving him absolutely wild. He didn’t think he could ever be more attracted to her, but this whole situation was proving him completely wrong.
“Eddie,” she breathed, her eyes still closed as she massaged her breast. Eddie could see her rolling the hardened bud of her nipple between her fingers, and her head snapped back as she fucked herself even deeper and more rapidly. Her breath quickened, and a lazy smile formed on her lips as she mewled. “Eddie, fuck…”
y/n’s hand shifted to the opposite breast, and he noticed the hitch of her breath when she made contact. Her legs were shaking under the blanket, and her back lifted slightly from the mattress once more. Her hand moved upward after a few minutes, rubbing quick circles on her clit as she began to grow louder & more desperate in volume. It was the hottest fucking thing that Eddie had ever seen, and he felt so dirty for even thinking it. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, and yet there he stood, spying on his best friend while she had a personal moment. It felt like such a violation, but his goddamn never-ending curiosity had forced him to remain there. Not only did he want to watch her masturbate to him, but he had a nagging desire to know what she was thinking. What had gotten her so worked up in the first place? What was she fantasizing about at the moment that had turned her on so much, that she had to get herself off to it? The line he was walking with the whole circumstances was a fine, risky one, but the painful erection he had was demanding he stay until she finished. After that, maybe he could–
No. No, he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t make himself known and tell her that he’d heard everything. Jesus jumping Christ, what was wrong with him? If he wanted to potentially damage the friendship beyond repair, then of course he could go in there and reveal what he’d done. While the only remaining shred of sense he had was telling him that it was a stupid idea, the horny part of him needed it to happen the other way. Fuck, he wanted her so badly that he ached, and if she rejected him or never spoke to him again, then he would absolutely deserve it. But she was moaning his name; something told him that, while she may be surprised, she would most likely welcome him. Either way, he was prepared, and with a shaky sigh, he turned his full attention back to her. 
“Mmm,” she hummed, her mewls turning more heated as her breathing grew heavier. Her hands worked fast, the quickest that Eddie had seen them so far. “Shit, you feel so fucking good.”
Eddie was unable to stop the grin that formed on his face. He could tell that she was close, and sure enough, it didn’t take her long to cum. The sounds she made as she reached her orgasm were like music to Eddie’s ears, and his cock throbbed in his pants because of it. His name fell repeatedly from her lips, her face twisted in ecstasy as she arched her back, her legs pushing the thin covering further down to expose her mound. Eddie bit the corner of his lip, unzipping his fly to alleviate some of the pressure on his erection. He watched as she came down from her high, blissed out with sweat shining on her skin, her nipples still erect beneath her shirt. Her hands came into view from where they’d been, and Eddie could see the fingers that she’d used on her pussy were glistening. Eddie knew, right then and there, that he was beyond fucked. How could he not go in there, after seeing that? He was ready for anything–rejection, acceptance, anger, surprise, whatever may come. If he didn’t work up the nerve now, after everything that he’d just seen, then he never would. He knew himself well enough to know that much. 
Taking a deep breath and shelving his nerves, Eddie gave y/n a few minutes to regain herself, and then stepped inside of her room.
________________________
itty bitty taglist: @littledemondani @korescomaactuallyaactually @rriverrgrace @dumpsterfireoflove
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sunnyflix · 4 months
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REALITY SHOW | KMG
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❝ relax, baby...the cameras can't film here, we're safe, we can do whatever we want. ❞
PAIRING » kim mingyu × fem!reader
GENRE » smut, fluff, strangers to lovers au
WORD COUNT » 2,5k
SUNNY NOTE » yayyy my first one here! hope you guys enjoy this one 🫶🏻
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"I'M NOT SIGNING UP"
You said louder than expected while trying to be reasonable to your friend.
"Honey, why are you screaming? All I just did was tell you to sign up to this reality show, nothing else...Jesus" Your friend Seungkwan said. 
You sighed "I don't know, Kwanie. It's too much exposure... I'll be filmed for 24 hours, seven days a week. It's too much for me."
"Y/N, think with me" he said. "You'll be in a house with a lot of people, you don't know who they are, so just be yourself and try to catch a good one for you."
You started to think. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea. Nobody will know you there. You're safe. 
But just the fact the program will be aired on national television, and your mom will probably watch the show, bring you chills all over your body.
You just have to try, right?
-
Wrong.
When Seungkwan came home with the papers from the program, including all the rules and special items for the participants, your body froze.
If they don't like you? If you ended up being a side-partner for someone? This was such a bad idea.
"Are you even listening to me, girl?" Seungkwan said with a hurt face. 
"Sorry, I'm immersed in my thoughts." 
"However they are, just forget them and focus on this." he pointed to the paper. "There will be 16 participants, that means will be formed 8 couples. You obviously will be with someone...plus, you're hot. You pull anyone you want." He said.
"Don't try to put me up, this is a dating show, not a university." You said, pointing to the papers, sighing after. "Should I, Kwanie?"
"If you were me, I would be signing them and already be on the set, trust me."
You felt anxious. That would be a good idea, right? Seungkwan is a good friend, he wouldn't put you in a bad situation.
"Give me the papers. Where do I sign?"
For the first time, you're sitting at the meeting table. The crew from the reality show called you for a meeting before the show starts, apparently they did this with everyone individually.
You're sitting right before the director. He was wearing glasses that were so big that you could see at such a long distance.
"So, your name is Y/N L/N, right?" You nodded. "We saw your profile...why did you decide to participate in the show?"
What should you say?
"Aham..." You cleared your throat. "...my friend signed me up. I don't know much about these programs, but I'll do my best." 
"What kind of person you are? I mean, you should have a captivating personality to show to the public." The director said while writing something on the paper in front of him.
You described yourself, trying to be the more truthful you can be. 
"I see...look, not to offend you or anything but, I'll just put you on the show because you're pretty. You don't have the type of personality we want."
"Oh...ahm, okay, no problem." You said, trying to not be offended by the words. "So, when will everything start?"
-
"They gave me this kit and filmed an introduction video." 
"That's why you came looking like a whole different person?" Seungkwan said while examining you. "Even your hair, dude." 
"I know right? They even gave me an introduction book to study and then tell the other participants." You said whipping off your makeup. "This is such a mess, Kwanie."
"Calm down, sweetie. Everything is going to be alright once you get there. By the way, when are you going to start?" 
"Tomorrow afternoon. They will send a van to pick me up." You finished. "So, if you excuse me, I will pack up my things."
While packing up your stuff, you saw Seungkwan looking at you, with a confused expression on his face.
"Y/Nie, I was thinking..."
"Here we go..."
"Don't do this!" He said after your interrupting. "Back to what I was saying. If you find a boyfriend on that show, you must give me a gift after you get out of that place. Don't you think?"
"Really, Kwanie?"
"Yes, look...I was the one who encouraged you to do this shit, so if you find someone to fuck, you have to treat me." 
"Seungkwan, stop."
"I'm serious..."
"I know you're. But still"
"But we have a deal, right?"
You looked at his face and gave a little smile.
"Okay, boo. But nothing too expensive."
-
You were amazed. The place was so huge that you could literally take a marathon there. 
You took your stuff and put it all on a cart, where you could walk with. Walking into the place, you saw a lot of places that you probably wouldn't ever use, even a jacuzzi in every room in there. That was crazy.
"Hello, may i help you?" 
"Oh, hi." You looked at the girl in front of you. "Yes, actually. Do you know where room 526 is?"
"Room 526? I'm staying there too. C'mon, I'll take you there. By the way, I'm Hyejin."
"Y/N"
Hyejin took you to the room, signaling which bed you would take and where to put your stuff.
"How did you know about the show?" Hyejin asked after you to come back to the entrance of the place. 
"My friend signed up my name for me. I didn't find it out of nowhere, y'know?" You saw her nod "And you?"
"I'm trying to find a boyfriend, so I think it would be cool to try something different." 
After the little conversation, the crew of the show started to gather together. Filming would begin. They took you to a place where you would do your makeup, hair and put on a different clothe. 
As soon as you did, you were taken to a place that was calm. The director said that you would come from a different place, actually, everyone would come from a different place.
"And ACTION!"
You started walking to the place where was all the people gathered. Sawing a lot a people you didn't know, just Hyejin was a known face for you.
"Hey, my name is Y/N. I have 24 years old, and I'm just trying to find someone good here." You said as the script they gave you.
You saw everyone introducing themselves. But that was someone who caught your attention.
His name was Mingyu. The long hair, canines standing out and the height that above anyone there was a little bit of his characteristics. You're a bit taken back by his visuals, how can someone look that good?
Maybe that show would be interesting...
-
It was about midnight. You were down on your bed, trying to catch sleep. But that didn't work, so you decided to take a walk around the place, only to find Mingyu sitting at the beach across your room.
"Hi...Mingyu, right?"
"Yes." Oh my god, his voice... " And you are Y/N, I'm right?"
"Yes, you're. Aham, what are you doing here?" You asked sitting next to him on the sand.
"I was trying to find my sleep...but that didn't work." Mingyu chuckled. "And you?"
"Same, actually."
Silence. Just the waves cracking on the beach were being listened to.
"It's kinda hard, right?" Mingyu broke the silence.
"What?"
"Even when we are here, there are cameras pointing at us and our mics are working perfectly well. It's kinda annoying."
You were trying to stay on the script. So you said the worst lie ever.
"I kinda like it, tho. It seems pretty cool."
"Really? Your mouth says something while your face says otherwise." Oh fuck, he was smarter than you thought.
"See..." You tamped your mic, whispering the next words. "They gave me a script, I must follow it, right?"
Mingyu chuckled again, looking at you right after.
"When you're with me, fuck that script. Be yourself."
"Okay...and why?" You asked genuinely.
"Because I want to know the real you." Mingyu stayed looking at you, but right after, he stood up and started to walk away. "Bye, Y/N."
"Wait, Mingyu!" You screamed his name. But nothing happened, he still walked away.
Mingyu wants to know the real you?
-
The first two weeks passed away. You're a lot closer to everyone, including him, Mingyu.
You guys were inseparable. Everything one of the two of you did, the other one followed. It was always like this.
But then, you started to feel something more for him. His smile was starting to make things to your heart. But he was nothing beyond. It was noticeable that Mingyu felt something for you too. Tight hugs, kisses on the forehead, arms linked...he fell for you.
"You know...tomorrow is the day to choose who goes to heaven with you." You said to him.
Heaven. The place everyone wants to be. It was an especial place for the couple to be closer. There they would use the same room, the same closet. Almost like a marriage life.
"And?" Mingyu answered.
"Do you know who are you gonna chose?"
Mingyu chuckled. "Baby, don't fuck with me...you already know who I will choose. There's no mystery in this." He began to caress your hair, running his hand through your strands.
"I don't know...maybe you will choose Hyejin." You said looking away. 
"Hyejin?? She is a friend to me...plus, she is in love with that guy from the beach tennis, remember?"
Oh... Seungcheol.
"Yes, I do."
"So don't be worried...you will always be my first option."
-
Heaven.
When Mingyu choose you over another two beautiful girls, you were not surprised, but you still couldn't believe that he has fallen for you
Right now, you were on you new room, trying to put all of your clothes on your space in the closet. It was already midnight.
"Need help?" Your heard Mingyu.
"Not really, just trying to fit all of this in here." You said. "And you, what are you planning to do?"
Mingyu was dressed in shorts and a tank top. A literal sin infront of you.
"I was planning to go in the water...you know, I never used the jacuzzi from my another room, maybe this one could be better."
After saying this, Mingyu took off his tank top and put it on the bed, heading towards the jacuzzi, where he took a dip.
"You don't wanna come?" Mingyu called for you.
"Mingyu, it's already midnight. You'll catch a cold."
"C'mon, baby. Once you are in, you will love, I promise."
You gave up. You put on a bikini and went to the jacuzzi, not forgetting to take the smaller camera to capture the moment for the crew to use later in the program.
"It's cold here." You said entering the jacuzzi, that the water was hot. "But the water is good."
" I know right?" Mingyu said, right before looking at your body up and down. "You look pretty in red."
"Thanks, Mingyu." You said giving him a pat on his shoulder.
A few minutes passed. You talked for a long time, but something Mingyu said may have changed the direction of the conversation.
"You know... you're too far away from me."
"Really? You think that?" You said picking up the camera and passing it to Gyu, who placed it on the jacuzzi's corner.
"Uhum...I think you should come closer."
So you came. You placed yourself right before him, having a jump scare when he placed his hand on your waist and putted you on his lap. Chest by chest.
"Mingyu..."
"This is way better, right?" He said, caressing your sides.
"Yes, but...the cameras."
"Relax, baby...the cameras can't film here, we're safe, we can do whatever we want." He said, turning off the smaller camera.
After that, Mingyu attacked your lips, like a fierce animal. His mouth was like heaven. You placed your arms around his neck, giving you the balance you need to not fall from his lap. Mingyu held your hips, starting to move you back and forth, like a sequence.
"Just don't make too much noise here, they might find out our little fun." Mingyu said, moving his hand to your center. "Can I?"
You nodded. Yes, you wanted everything from him.
Mingyu started with little movements, just teasing your clit. But after them, he penetrated two fingers at once in your pussy, making you whine a little bit, trying to not moan too loud.
"My pretty girl is doing so good for me. Taking me so well...if you're squeezing my fingers like that, I can't wait to feel you around me."
"Mingyu, please..."
"Please what baby?"
"Please...put it inside of me."
"As you want..."
Mingyu took off his shorts, just to find out he was only with them his whole time. But now, that didn't matter, you need to have him.
You stood up a little bit, taking your bikini panties aside, he positioned his member in the right path to your entrance, letting him penetrate every second, until you sat down completely.
"Fuck!" Mingyu exclaimed. "You're so tight, baby. Might come in seconds."
You started bouncing on his lap, forgot about everything at your side. The water from the jacuzzi was falling through the bordes, wetting the entire camera that was in the corner. Mingyu wasn't different from you, his whines were so pretty, giving you so much gas for continue.
But, out of nowhere, he picked you up and put you at the border. He took off your panties, almost desperate.
"I need you to come in my tongue." And then, he started to eat you out like crazy.
The sounds he was making were almost pornographic, he was diving too much into you. He got smeared from nose to chin, not caring about the mess he was doing.
Your hand, that was before at your side, now they were being picked up by Mingyu and placed in his hair.
"Pull my hair, discount your pleasure." You made it. Mingyu started moaning in between your legs, one of his hands inside the water, pleasuring himself in the middle of eating you out. "Such a delicious pussy, baby. Made for me, right?" You nodded.
After a few more licks, you came on his tongue, having him suck all of your juice.
"So sweet." He gave you a peck right after, making you taste a little bit of yourself. "How about a shower now?"
"The cameras, Gyu..."
"Shit...you first, baby."
-
The morning has come, Mingyu was right behind you on the bed, brushing your hair to put it all together.
"Wish I had this view everyday in my life." He said, putting the brush down.
"But you can..."
"Yeah?" You nodded. "How can, baby?"
"Let's just get out of here and I'll tell you" You said, hearing Mingyu chuckle right after.
The day passed by. You and Mingyu were like love birds, nothing could separate you two. Now, you're once again in bed.
Mingyu were caressing your hair while you're on his chest.
"I think we should just give up from the show and get to live our lives in peace. What do you think?" He said.
"That's not a bad idea."
-
"Kwanie, this is..."
"I know, I know...you're the one, right?" Seungkwan said to Mingyu.
"Probably?"
Seungkwan nodded, turning to you right after.
"You have to treat me a whole Korean barbecue, I gave you the chance to meet this greek god and...AH!" You interrupted Seungkwan by holding his arm.
"Baby, what are you doing?" Mingyu asked.
"How about Korean barbecue for dinner, hum?"
560 notes · View notes
storiesofsvu · 9 months
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Five Nights Pt 1
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*not my gif* Aaron Hotchner x reader warnings: language, smut, masturbation, fingering, dirty talk. This is part one!! There is one or two more parts coming, it's a bit of a 5 + 1 trope/style but was getting too long so I figured I'd split it up. Following parts to come likely later this week!
Night One:
You weren’t entirely sure how you’d pulled the short straw and ended up sharing rooms, but at least it was with the silent stoic that was Hotch. He wouldn’t be rambling on about the case hours after leaving the precinct, he wouldn’t force the television onto some mind numbing trashy reality show and he didn’t snore like Rossi did. The only thing you had to ignore was the fact that you wanted to climb him like a fucking tree and were suddenly in much closer quarters and personal space than being in the field or office together.
The town was small, the hotel was cheap and the case was proving that you’d be stuck there for at least a week. All things considered, you needed some relief, some relaxation and all you could pray was that the sound of the shower would cover up anything else. For extra security you turned on a playlist on your phone, figuring that would be enough before you made sure the water was the perfect temperature and stepped under the stream. You let the water cascade over your skin, rinsing away the dirt and grime of the day as your eyes closed and you relaxed against the shower wall. Your hands began to roam your body, tickling at your skin as you let out little shivers, cupping at your chest you pinched your nipples, unable to hold back a quiet moan, Aaron’s name a whisper on your lips as you fantasized it was his hands sinking lower and lower on your body until you reached out for the small toy.
Out in the room Aaron was sitting on the bed closer to the bathroom, the television playing quietly in the background while he got caught up on paperwork. He could have sworn he heard his name, wondering if you’d forgotten shampoo or something in your go bag he glanced up, muting the tv to see if you’d repeat whatever you’d said. The shower was already running and suddenly he caught himself thinking about you naked and dripping, water trailing down your perfect skin and he couldn’t help the way his dick twitched in his pants. Paperwork tossed aside he was about to try and calm himself down before he got to hot and bothered when he heard it again,
“Oh Aaron…”
It was faint, barely audible over whatever music you had playing but you had very clearly moaned his name. Following that he heard the tell tale sign of a vibrator whirring to life and a small whimper. Not only were you naked and wet on the other side of a very thin wall, you were touching yourself.
Touching yourself while thinking about him.
Pretending that he was in there with you doing all the dirty things he’d been wishing he could do to you since the day you met. He let out a low breath, his ears picking up a breathy sigh from the other side of the wall, his cock now hard in his pants. He knew it was a potentially disastrous idea, but you’d just gotten in the shower, if you’d decided to start with making yourself come, you still had to actually shower afterwards. He had more than enough time to get himself off to the sounds you were making through the wall.
Pulling his cock out of the waistband of his pants his thumb swiped over the tip, smearing the precum down his throbbing length. His eyes fluttered shut as his hand squeezed, stroking up and down, listening for any other sounds coming from the shower. With each little whimper, moan or gasp he could hear he twitched in his hand, doing his best to keep quiet as he groaned. He could picture you perfectly, water tracing down your body, fingers pumping into your tight little pussy as you fluttered around yourself, imagining it was his cock buried deep inside you. He thought of you on your knees for him, cock stuffed down your throat as you drooled around him, taking it like the good girl he just knew you were.
“Oh god Aaron.” The music was between songs, this murmur a little louder than the last one, “yeah… right there.”
He squeezed tighter around his length, his hand starting to move faster as he grunted, the coil tightening in his stomach. He imagined you on all fours for him, ass waggling back toward him as you silently begged for his cock before he was sliding it into your cunt, pushing deeper with each thrust of his hips. How warm and wet you’d feel around him, how tight you’d squeeze him, the noises you’d make even better than the little ones he could hear right now. Pleasure burst through him and he groaned quietly, cum spurting out of the head of his dick and onto his stomach. It was only a moment later he heard a quiet muffled cry from the bathroom followed by silence. He grabbed Kleenex from the nightstand, cleaning himself up and tucking his cock back into his pants, relaxing back onto the bed in the exact position he’d been in when you’d left.
Completely distracted by the images in his head and the sounds he wanted to lock away in his brain forever he didn’t even hear the bathroom door click or realize you were back in the room until you spoke.
“What’re you watching?” You asked, crossing past his bed as you glanced at the tv and he looked up.
“Uh.. it appears Futurama.” His eyes darted between the tv screen and you, noticing how tightly your hand was clenched around the shirt you were holding and his pupils widened, knowing just what you had wrapped up in there.
“Huh.” You buried your items into your go bag before you crossed to the bed, “makes sense, I thought it was Family Guy for a sec.” You buried yourself under the covers, letting out a very satisfied nearly dreamy sigh as you did so.
“That good of a shower in this kind of a place?” He asked with a small tease and you chuckled.
“Like you wouldn’t believe.” You rolled away so your back was to him, “night Hotch.”
**
Night two:
The next day was exactly the same, work was work, there was no indication that Hotch heard you masturbating the night prior and there definitely wasn’t even a thought that he’d been touching himself at the same time. Returning to the hotel room you fell into the familiar routine, you dug through your go bag for your shower essentials, leaving Hotch in the hotel room to change out of his suit.
The sound of the water running took over the silence of the room and a moment later music echoed from your phone, Hotch unable to hold back a smirk at the knowledge of what you were about to do. A quiet whirring followed by a satisfied moan as the toy slid into you, your free hand roaming your body and you succumbed to your fantasy world. Aaron felt his dick twitch when you let out a quiet whine, wondering how long he would have to withhold making a move now that he knew. He wondered if this week sharing a room would present him with an opportune moment, or if you would bite the bullet and make a move.  He was jostled from his thoughts at the sound of your voice,
“Dammit.” A frustrated huff and he realized the whirring had come to a halt, judging by your outburst, it wasn’t on purpose either. A clattering sound from the other side of the wall as you tossed the toy onto the basin and quickly finished your shower. It was only a minute later the door opened and you were changed into pyjama shorts and a tank, crossing the foot of Aaron’s bed as you made your way to your own.
“Everything alright?” He raised a brow in your direction and you nearly stumbled, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks.
“Ran outta hot water.” Distracting yourself with folding the clothes in your hands to place into your go bag you missed his smirk as he moved from his bed, grabbing his toothbrush and paste from his bag.
He couldn’t help but chuckle, you’d been on edge all day, trapped in an SUV with only him for most of the afternoon, the close proximity driving you wild as you tried to not let your imagination go too far. You’d been absolutely dying to get back to the hotel and take care of the pent up energy and now that Aaron was in on your little secret, he could tell. The grin remained on his lips when he flicked the bathroom light on and the first thing he noticed was the bright pink toy still sitting on the basin, unable to resist, he picked it up. The opportunity was staring him right in the face and he wasn’t about to pass it up now.
“You forget something in here?” He called.
“What?” You called back and he peeked his head around the corner. There was a large mirror across from the foot of your bed, a small table in front of it that you had your skin care laid out on.
“You missing this?” He asked, eyes gleaming as he stepped back into the room, holding up the pink toy. You re-capped the lotion in your hand, placing it down onto the table before glancing up and your eyes went wide. You felt the blush creeping up your chest as your heart began to race.
“Uh…it’s, uh, travel back massager.” You stumbled out, trying to cover your tracks, “you know how terrible the beds can be on these trips.”
“Mmhmm….” Hotch smirked, moving through the room to approach you, handing the toy over to you and you immediately tossed it into your go bag. “I sure do. I also know how stressful these little trips can be, it’s important to relax, and I’m guessing that little thing died on you?” He nodded in the direction of your bag and you gulped.
“Yup…” Your heart was beating a million miles a minute over just how close he was to you, never mind the smirk on his lips, the near teasing in his voice, his choice of words letting you in on the game. That he was more than well aware exactly what that toy was for, and exactly what you had just been doing in the shower. You should’ve known better, there was no way the walls were thick enough for you to not be overheard.
“You know…I think I’ve got something that could help you out,” he stepped behind you, eyes finding yours in the mirror, “all you had to do was ask.”
One of his hands came up to the back of your neck, thumb on one side with his fingers on the other and your breath hitched in your throat at the touch. His digits massaged for a moment or two, working down your neck until his hand slid to the crook of your neck and his free one came up to the other side, pinching at your body.
“Hmm… doesn’t seem too tight here. You must’ve been using it lower.” His hands slid over your shoulders, rubbing there for a moment and you felt like you were about to burst, your body tingling with pleasure already. “No… not there.” His hands ghosted down your back, settling around your waist as his thumbs gently dug into your lower back, occasionally slipping under the hem of your shirt and you couldn’t help but let out a quiet gasp at the feeling of his fingers on your bare skin. Hotch stepped closer to you, pulling you to him by your waist, his breath was hot on the shell of your ear when he spoke again, “here?”
“Hotch…” It was barely above a whisper, unable to control yourself, feeling the heat radiating off his body as you began to relax into him, your eyes almost threatening to close as a cloud of pleasure surrounded you. He chuckled, leaning down his teeth nipped at your neck and you let out a moan, this one loud and clear to his ears.
“Oh come on now, we both know that’s not what you were moaning last night.” He grinned and your eyes flew open, catching his gaze in the mirror as heat crept into your cheeks once again. “Now… I think you were using it even lower.” One of his hands wound around your body, pulling you flush to him as it slid down your body until it was between your legs and he cupped your pussy, squeezing softly and you let out a whimper. “Am I right?”
“Yes sir.” You breathed out, your knees felt weak when he massaged at your heat again and you let out a shaky breath.
“What do you say we get rid of these then?” His free hand came to untangle the knot of your shorts, “because I do think I can help you out much better than that stupid little pink thing.”
“Mmhmm.” Nodding furiously your fingers slipped into the waistband of your shorts, quickly tugging them down your legs and kicking them off to the side. Aaron remained behind you, eyes locked on your half naked form through the mirror, one hand holding your hip steady while the other slid up your body. He paused briefly only to grope at your chest through the thin fabric of your shirt, smirking at the little moans that escaped your lips when he did so. His hand continued upward, squeezing lightly at your throat and he felt himself twitch at the way your eyes fluttered shut, the way you shivered at the touch. Finally his fingers found your lips, two of them slipping into your mouth and you eagerly sucked at them, tongue lapping around them.
“Good girl.” He cooed, softly thrusting the digits between your lips before adding a third one and you moaned around them. “God I bet you’d look gorgeous with my cock in your mouth.”
“Mmmhmm.” It was mumbled around his fingers and he chuckled at the way you nodded, sucking harder around him.
“You’d like that wouldn’t you?”
“Yes!” You gasped out when he pulled his hand away from your mouth, “oh please yes.”
“Later.” His other hand pinched at your ass, “first I’m going to get you off far better than that little toy could, alright?”
He glanced at you in the mirror, waiting for your eager nod before his hand slid back down your body and his spit slicked fingers easily found your clit. Fingertips brushing against it in slow circles as he began to increase the pressure, your hips jolting up to the touch.
“Fuck…” You muttered out, tingles bursting through your body as you shivered in his arms. Aaron’s lips found your neck again, trailing messy kisses down your skin as his hand began to move faster. Your head lolled back on his shoulder; eyes fluttering shut as you let out another quiet moan. Suddenly his free hand was wrapping around your chin, tilting your head back up as he spoke,
“Eyes open pretty girl.” He murmured, lips brushing against your ear, “I want you to see how gorgeous you are, want you to watch the way my fingers disappear into that pretty pussy.” His hand sunk lower this time, fingers slipping through your folds, a dark chuckle vibrating through his chest before he lifted his hand, fingertips glistening in the low light of the room, “you dirty girl, already this wet for me?”
“Yes sir.” You breathed out, catching his gaze in the mirror and you blushed, your pussy fluttering around nothing, begging to be filled.
“Have you been wet all day? Wishing I would get you naked, thinking about all the naughty things I could do to you?”
“Mmhm..” You nodded, doing your best not to whine as you shivered.
“Well I better follow through then.”
With another smirk his hand was back between your legs and you let out a gasp when a finger slid into your pussy, clenching down around the digit immediately. A second finger quickly joined it, easily thrusting into your warmth, pulling more wetness from it, as he set a steady pace the hotel room filled with the sounds of your pussy mixed with your breathy moans and whimpers. Your eyes landed on the mirror, watching the way Hotch effortlessly held you to him while his fingers thrust in and out of you, the heel of his hand brushing against your clit,
“That’s it…” he groaned, “such a good girl for me.” His hips ground against your ass and you let out a gasp at the feeling of his half hard cock rubbing at you through his pants. “Take my fingers so well, bet you’d take my cock just as good, wouldn’t you?”
“God! Yes!” You panted, struggling to keep your eyes open at this point, his fingers curling and twisting inside you as his lips brushed against your neck and shoulders. “Fuck… feels..s-so good.” His fingers curled once more and you let out a gasp, your body shuddering in his arms, “don’t stop.”
“Ah.” He raised a brow at you through the mirror, his hand pausing its thrusting so his fingers could curl again, finding the sensitive spot in your pussy, “right there?” He asked and you whimpered when he pressed against it again, nodding as you bit your lip,
“Oh fuck Aaron���” you moaned, your head dropping back onto his shoulder as your hips rocked downward into his touch. He felt himself twitch in his pants at the way you said his name and he wished he was buried to the hilt inside of you right then, but he’d promised you an orgasm first and he wasn’t about to back down on his word.
“You like that, don’t you?” He asked with a chuckle, beginning to move his hand again. He could feel the way you were pulsating around his fingers, how with each thrust of his hand there was more and more wetness dripping down his wrist. Your eyes were scrunched shut, your entire body on fire as he continued to finger you, curling with each thrust until your legs were practically shaking. The coil in your belly wound tighter and tighter, your hand shooting to his arm, clutching at him for dear life while you whined and shivered with pleasure.
“Fuck! Oh god… m’so close.” You could feel it burning just under your skin, he stretched you so perfectly with just his fingers you were absolutely driven to insanity at the thought of his cock buried in your cunt.
“Come for me pretty girl.” He cooed, nipping at your earlobe as he increased the pace, his free hand wrapping tighter around you to play with your clit.
You let out a gasp at the double sensation, your body jolting toward his touch, hips grinding into his hands as right as his fingers curled once again your free hand shot to your mouth, letting out a muffled cry as your orgasm shot through you like a burst of fire. Your legs nearly gave out, thankful for Aaron’s arm tightly wrapped around your middle as your body shook. A string of quiet swears and whimpers escaped your lips as he gently fucked you through your orgasm,
“So fucking hot.” He murmured, watching the way your chest heaved as you panted in an attempt to catch your breath, little trembles shooting through your body as his fingers lazily thrusted into you. “Was that better than that stupid little pink thing?” He asked, cocking a brow at you through the mirror and you let out a huff of a laugh.
“Much.”
His fingers finally slipped from your pussy and he grinned, “just fucking drenched.”
“All for you.” You muttered, finally able to stand on your own legs you turned slightly to face him.
“Bet you taste incredible too.” He replied with a grin and before he could even get another thought in your lips were wrapping around his fingers again, moaning over your own taste as you sucked his fingers clean, letting them go with a lewd pop. “Christ.” He felt himself throb in his pants once again as he looked down at you, his hands just beginning to toy with the hem of your shirt when his phone went off with a text tone and both of you jumped, suddenly coming back to the real world.
“Ignore it.” You muttered, tugging at his arm to regain his attention and he laughed softly, stepping back toward you when the phone went off a second time. His hand trailed up your neck to your cheek and all he could think about was kissing you to get a taste of what that pretty pussy tasted like when the ringtone began blaring through the room and he let out a frustrated groan, stepping away to answer the phone.
You dropped down onto the bed behind you, watching curiously as he muttered a couple of things into the phone before hanging it up and glancing back to you.
“I have to go back to the precinct.” He grabbed a couple more things from around the room before scooping up your abandoned shorts from the floor, handing them to you, pausing to pinch at your chin, “this isn’t over.”
“It better not be.” You replied with a grin, your eyes very obviously flicking from his face to the bulge in his pants, resisting the urge to reach out and palm him through the fabric.
*
By the time Hotch got back to the hotel that night it was late, far too late to have expected you to still be awake, completely unsurprised to find you curled up asleep in your own bed. He let out a tired sigh, stripping out of his clothes as he made his way to the bathroom. Tonight it was his turn to get off in the shower with the images of you coming around his fingers and fantasy of how it would feel to bury himself into that gorgeous pussy.
This certainly was very far from over.
Pt 2
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