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eddiesghxst · 6 months

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PRICE OF FAME (PART 7/12)

AHHH HERE SHE IS, i hope you enjoyyy hehe <3

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18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: you and eddie are back to square one...maybe

contains: enemies to lovers trope, themes of sexism/misogyny, smoking, drug and alcohol use, sexual themes, some jealous!eddie, brotherhood, mentions of eddie's dad being shitty, mentions of a sick family member (reader's grandfather), flirting, and eddie being a sorry mf <3

word count: 4.2k

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| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

Eddie very rarely finds the time to go to the studio by himself.

With the busy lifestyle he’s now adopted, he mostly gets his writing done on the road or when he can’t sleep. And Eddie can’t sleep tonight. He doesn’t want to sleep tonight. He can’t seem to find it in himself to give his body and mind the few hours of rest they plead for because Eddie— Eddie fucked up.

The studio is quiet— because nobody in their right mind comes to a recording studio at three in the morning— and Eddie begins to wonder why he even came here if he can’t write a single lyric. Every line that crosses his mind is too little, too much, too mundane— it’s all wrong. Everything is wrong, and Eddie wants to scream.

Eddie takes another hit of the burning cigarette, rubs his eyes in exhaustion, and places his used journal to the side in exchange for his guitar.

He sits on the couch, the quiet room filling out the whirlwind of unsaid words in Eddie’s mind. He strums a soft tune on the wooden instrument, eyes closed and legs propped up on the coffee table. It takes Eddie a few moments to open his eyes when he hears the door open, and he has to blink a few times to clear the fog of fatigue from his eyes.

And Eddie doesn’t even have the energy to roll his eyes and scoff at the sight of Gareth.

He keeps the cigarette between his lips and goes back to plucking his guitar strings, ignoring the shuffling sound of Gareth walking over.

Gareth is quiet for a long time until he clears his throat, “This is good.”

Eddie opens his eyes again and glances over at the brown-haired boy. Eddie’s face pinches in confusion before Gareth raises the journal, and Eddie huffs out a laugh. “No, it’s not.”

Gareth shakes his head, “No, it really is. I like this line,” he points to Eddie’s messy handwriting.

“It’s not going anywhere. I’ve been here for almost two hours.” Eddie brushes it off.

Eddie resumes his peaceful strumming, and Gareth— Gareth just can’t let it go. Because he misses his best friend more than anything in the fucking world, and it hurts. This hurts. The quiet and the unsaid— it hurts.

“I’m sorry.”

And Eddie thinks, fuck, not now.

“Man—” “No, Eddie I… I fucked up.” And Eddie glances at Gareth because Gareth sounds… Gareth sounds like he’s on the verge of something, something that Eddie has rarely seen from his friend.

“I really fucked up, man. And you don’t have to forgive me, but I don’t want you thinking I don’t regret it— because I do.” Gareth looks at Eddie. Clear eyes, so wide and full of what Eddie can only imagine to be sorrow. “I should’ve never done that to you, and I sure as hell shouldn’t have told her— especially because I hadn’t told you.”

And Eddie is so tired of being angry. He’s so tired of feeling the gaping and missing piece of his best friend— and sure, he wishes Gareth never went behind his back and fucked his ex, but he mostly just wishes things would return to normal.

Eddie is silent for a moment, and Gareth almost takes it as an answer, but Eddie finally says, “Did you really love her?”

If Gareth is shocked, he does an excellent job of not showing it. He only swallows and shifts in his seat, “I thought I did… I don’t know, maybe?”

He’s being careful, Eddie knows, and he can’t blame him for it.

“Do you still talk?” Eddie can’t help but ask because he needs to know. He needs to know so he can prepare himself for whatever bullshit he’ll go through later if he ever sees Chrissy again.

To Eddie’s relief, Gareth shakes his head, “No. Not since… no.”

Eddie nods and says nothing else while mindlessly playing his soft tune.

Gareth shifts beside him, glances down at the journal in his hands, and hums, “So… you gonna tell me who this is about?”

Eddie jokingly glares at Gareth and leans forward to set his guitar down. “S’nothing.”

“That’s a lie.”

Eddie raises an eyebrow at his friend, and Gareth takes a deep breath. “Look, man,” he places the journal down, “I’ve seen the way you look at her. And Jeff said he saw you—” “That motherfucker.” Gareth softly laughs but shrugs either way.

Eddie drags a hand over his face and sighs, “I don’t know, it’s… complicated.”

Gareth hums, like he doesn’t believe Eddie, “All I’m saying is if you like her as much as I think you do,” he gestures to the journal, “Then you better act quick.”

And Eddie knows Gareth is right— which is annoying, but he thinks he needs to hear it now more than ever.

Eddie’s not sure when he closed his eyes and dozed off, but by the time he opened them, it was the next day, and Jeff was standing over him with a sly grin. Eddie’s face is twisted in morning confusion and annoyance at Jeff’s proximity, and something heavy is leaning on his side and— “I see you and Gare-bear have made up.” Jeff tips his head to the right of Eddie, and Eddie glances over to where he’s motioned to find Gareth fast asleep with his body leaned against Eddie’s side.

Eddie groans and grimaces as he turns his head, a painful pinch resting at the top of his spine as he shoves his hand against Gareth’s shoulder, voice dry and scratchy from sleep as he speaks, “Shut the fuck up.”

Eddie’s arm tingles under the weight of Gareth, and he grunts, pushing harder at his shoulder, “Gareth, get off me, man; I can’t feel my fucking arm,” Eddie grumbles, shoving the boy off of him, grimacing when Gareth grunts in protest.

Jeff snickers and looks around the room; sheets of paper are scattered across the coffee table, empty beer bottles are strewn on the floor, and a guitar with a busted string lies on the other couch. “Jesus, did I miss the party?” Jeff teases, kicking at an empty beer can as he walks over to the sheet of music on the soundboard, picking it up and glancing over the words.

“What’s this?” Jeff wonders aloud. Gareth opens an eye to see what Jeff is talking about and shifts in his seat as he answers, “Eddie’s apology to the journalist.”

Eddie wipes drool from his mouth as he sits up, leaning over to sift through the rubble for his pack of cigarettes, “Birdie.” He mumbles as he shoves a stick between his lips and lights the end. “Yeah, Birdie.” Gareth sleepily mumbles.

Jeff laughs as he reads over the half-assed written letter. “How drunk were you two shitheads?” He wonders, eyebrows raising at one particular sentence. “And what’d you do that made you finally realize you’re an asshole?”

And Eddie thinks Jeff is asking a lot of questions right now, and Eddie doesn’t have the mental capacity to digest any of them. Gareth snickers beside Eddie, shaking his head with a shrug, moving through Eddie’s cloud of smoke to reach for a beer can, shaking it to see if there’s any drink left before sipping on whatever's there before speaking, “What didn’t he do?” He jokes.

Eddie kicks his heel into the brown-haired boy’s shin, ignoring the spew of curses Gareth sends his way. Jeff tosses the paper back onto the soundboard and turns to the two boys, “Does this have anything to do with her trying to drop the article?”

Gareth shrugs, uninterested in whatever Jeff is insinuating, but the question seems to wake Eddie up quicker than the slow-burning stick between his fingers. “What are you talking about?”

Jeff looks at Eddie as if he’s asked him what two plus two is, “You don’t know?”

Eddie tilts his head, a confused look on his face, irritation lingering on his tone, “Know what, Jeff?”

Jeff’s eyebrows raise, and he lifts his hands in surrender, “Look, Naomi and Birdie were talking at breakfast, and she told Naomi that she’s thinking of dropping the article.” “What do you mean dropping the article, Jeff?”

Jeff gazes at Eddie like he’s lost his mind, “Honestly, man, I don’t know why you’re freaking out when this is literally what you wanted ever since she came along.” He points out, calmly sitting in the desk chair by the soundboard. “I mean, yeah,” Eddie stresses, “But that was before— fuck,” Eddie rubs a hand over his face as he plops back into the plush couch with a heavy sigh. “Before?” Jeff wonders aloud.

“Don’t worry about it.” Eddie snaps.

Gareth snickers again, glancing at Eddie’s depleted state before glaring at Jeff, “Before Eddie fell in love.” He childishly giggles. Eddie glares at his friend, finally finding his shoes and hastily shoving them on, “I’m not in love with her, you fucking idiot,” He swats at Gareth, “I just…” Eddie glances between his two friends before sighing, rubbing his hands over his face again and resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s complicated, okay?”

“Didn’t seem that complicated when I walked in on you two.” Jeff points out, to which Gareth’s jaw drops as he turns to Eddie, “No fucking way. You boned the journalist?—” “Birdie.” “—And Jeff walked in on it? You didn’t tell me that last night!” He exclaims.

Eddie grimaces at Gareth’s words and the fact that he won’t just say your name because, for some weird and obnoxious reason, it pisses Eddie off. “Because it wasn’t like that.” Eddie shakes his head. Jeff makes a face, and Eddie rolls his eyes, “It wasn’t,” Eddie repeats, “Not that it’s any of you fucking losers' business.”

Eddie tries so hard not to seem distracted when they start working on their last song of the album. He tries to put his entire mind, body, and soul into the words and the chorus, but he can’t. Eddie’s mind is somewhere else, wasting away trying to find a way to say sorry and get you to change your mind about abandoning your project because, sure, Eddie’s an asshole when he wants to be, but he has some inkling of remorse and human feelings. He has the ability to feel sorry and know when he’s crossed a line, and clearly, Eddie is far beyond the line.

Eddie’s stomach churns when he thinks about the last night: the look on your face and the tone of your voice, the unmistakable sniffle as you wiped away a stray tear. And Eddie really is a jackass, isn’t he?

Making a kind girl like you cry, telling her she’s ruined everything when all she’s done is stay true to her task. It’s Eddie who’s led you astray, who’s tempted you and poked and prodded until you cracked— and, god, Eddie feels sick to his stomach.

Eddie remembers how that feels. To be pushed and shoved to your breaking point, to where someone breaks you down to the point of giving up. Eddie knows that feeling so well; he dealt with it for so long as a kid before Wayne took him in. Eddie remembers how useless he would feel, how his father would tell him he was stupid and naive for thinking he could be something. And it’s difficult to ignore those harsh words when it’s repeated over and over in your ear, and Eddie can’t believe he let himself do that to you.

Eddie’s kind of frantic when he walks up to you at rehearsals.

He’s fidgety, and he’s aching for a cigarette, and his heart is racing in his chest because Eddie’s not the best at apologies, but he’s also not very fond of the idea of you not being here anymore. As much as Eddie hates to admit it, he likes you being here— because watching you, hearing you, and seeing how you move about a room is addicting. It’s a movie, a show that gets better with every episode, and Eddie has tried so hard to lie and say he can’t stand the show, but fuck, he’s hooked.

You look tired today, uncharacteristically quiet and reserved, making Eddie all the more nervous to break the slight trance you seem to be in. Your lashes flutter as you blink up at him when he approaches you in the backstage hallway, “Can we uh— can we talk?”

You don’t seem eager when he asks, and you don’t sound it either when your eyebrows furrow in distress, and you shake your head, “Honestly, Eddie, I’m not in the mood—” Eddie shakes his head, tone sincere and eyes holding no trace of mischief, “No, I promise it’s not…” Eddie trails off, and you raise your eyebrow, growing impatient with his hesitance.

“It’s about the magazine.” He rushes out. You look confused and unconvinced— and there’s so much going on in the background; staff calling out demands, crew members scrambling to get things done, and Eddie just can’t fucking think. “Well, it’s about you, but it’s also about the magazine— can we step outside?”

Eddie looks away in embarrassment because Eddie doesn’t get flustered very easily these days— there’s not much to get flustered over when you’ve seen it all— but again, Eddie doesn’t do this often— and his neck is heating up, and he knows his cheeks are turning an embarrassing shade of red because you’re looking at him like he’s the biggest idiot known to man.

Eddie drags in a steady breath, teeth digging into his bottom lip, and he grumbles lowly enough for you to hear, thumb brushing the tip of his nose once before speaking, “Come on, don’t make me beg.”

You scoff at that, arms crossing over your chest as you push past him and storm towards the exit, and Eddie follows with a shaky breath.

When Eddie steps out into the alleyway of the venue, you’re leaning against the wall with a deep frown etched across your lips, and Eddie’s fingers twitch for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. You glare at him, “What’s wrong with you?” You snap. Eddie looks at you silently for a moment, confusion written across his face as he speaks, “Huh?”

You glare as you speak, “You’re being weird.”

Eddie rolls his eyes and clears his throat, shifting on his feet before he starts, “Listen, I uh,” he scratches the back of his neck, “I know we don’t get along and shit but just…” Eddie ignores it when you roll your eyes, “Don’t drop the magazine because of me.”

You’re silent then, for much longer than Eddie would like you to be, and Eddie is thoroughly confused when you scoff, “Excuse me?”

Eddie stuffs his hands in his pockets and glances around the empty alleyway, “Look— believe it or not, we actually kind of need this, and the boys will fucking kill me if I screw it all up, so just… I’m sorry, okay?”

And technically, it’s the truth. It might not be the whole truth as to why Eddie has pulled you aside, but at least there’s some truth to it… right?

You don’t seem too appeased with Eddie’s half-assed apology, considering the way your face doesn't even flinch for what seems like decades. “Well, for starters, I’m not dropping out of the magazine,” and Eddie doesn’t want to unpack the reasoning behind why the tension in his shoulders eased, “And the only reason why I had even debated doing so is because my grandfather is sick, not because some douchebag artist pissed me off.” You snap.

Eddie feels like an ass.

No, he feels worse than an ass, whatever that may be. Eddie feels like he’ll maybe just go back to the hotel and sew his mouth shut because the one time that Eddie tries to fix things, his tongue flaps and spews out bullshit, and then he’s further in the ground than he was, to begin with.

Eddie’s not sure what to do or say because, honestly, he didn’t even think of the possibility that he’s not the reason for you dropping the magazine, and Eddie only then realizes how selfish of a mistake this was. “Can I be honest with you, Eddie?”

Even though you sound and look like you could stab him right now, Eddie thinks you’re absolutely breathtaking. Your eyes are so alive beneath the light of day, and a gentle breeze carries your scent to wrap around Eddie in a dizzying manner. His heart races, and Eddie feels… small.

He hasn’t felt this way in a long time, like he’s damaged things to the point of no return, and it’s all his fault— and usually, it never actually was Eddie’s fault, but this… Eddie can wholeheartedly admit he’s at fault for the agitated look you’re giving him— and Eddie doesn’t know what to do.

Still, Eddie nods— because what else can he do?

“I think we should keep the one-on-ones to a minimum. Better yet, let’s just stop it as a whole.”

“What?”

You take a deep breath, gaze dancing away, seemingly anxious to flee the scene as you speak, “I don’t think this is benefiting either of us— this back and forth. I have work to get done, and honestly, there’s nothing more that I need from you aside from when I interview the band as a group— and seeing as you hate me and I hate you, why don’t we just make our lives easier and stay out of each other's way?”

This isn’t how Eddie imagined things going.

Eddie imagined he would say sorry, and you would give him a pretty smile, and things would go back to… well, not normal, but perhaps something a little better than normal. This is worse than normal. This is so left field of what Eddie had imagined, and Eddie can’t bring himself to say anything.

So, instead, Eddie nods, mumbles a quick agreement, and says nothing more as you leave.

Days pass slower than usual, and you find ways to get busy outside of drafting the magazine. You take frequent walks in Central Park to clear your mind and spend many nights talking to your family over the phone.

Your grandfather is old, and it’s no surprise to the family that he’ll soon see the end of his days, but your mom immediately told you no when you said you would be coming home after getting word of his current state. You weren’t particularly close to your grandfather; you really only saw him once a year around holidays, but you felt the need to be there for your mother, to offer her a shoulder to cry on. However, your mother, ever the sweet lady she is, insisted she would be more than okay with the support of your father and younger sister and demanded that you stay in New York to finish your project.

Still, even though you called home every night, you felt the distance with each goodbye. It ached to be so far from your family at such a time, but the world won’t stop just for you, and time is of the essence in your line of work.

Despite the somewhat gloomy past days you’ve had, each show has given you a moment to breathe and take your mind off the stresses of life. There are two shows of the residency left now, and the boys of Corroded Coffin seem more pumped than ever for the two big nights.

You usually spend time before the show loitering in the green room or waiting out in the crowd, but today, you’ve chosen to have front-row tickets to the chaos that is Corroded Coffin’s dressing room.

There’s a thick fog of smoke dancing through the room; tobacco, weed, and alcohol drenching the walls with their smell as the boys and crew members share drinks and blunts and jokes. You, Jeff, Gareth, and James are gathered in front of the vanity— away from most of the chaos to enjoy light conversation— with Jeff and James sitting in the tall vanity chairs while you and Gareth stand between them both.

“I think we should play something off the new record tonight,” Jeff suggests. Gareth, who’s busy messing with his hair in the mirror, finds the time to respond, “I kind of wanted to do something old. Maybe even a cover?”

James raises an eyebrow, reaching forward onto the vanity desk for a black eyeliner pencil, “You guys are on in like fifteen, man. The stage crew is not gonna be happy about that.” James points out, inspecting the small item before popping the cap off. Gareth snickers as James attempts to apply the eyeliner, “When are they ever happy? Poor guys have to put up with our bullshit every day.”

Naomi comes to stand behind Jeff, draping her arms around his shoulders and resting her chin atop his head. Jeff smirks at her through the mirror, and she smiles, “You agree, right? We should play something new tonight?” Jeff asks his girlfriend, to which she shrugs and glances at both band members, “I don’t see why not. It’s the second to last show, and I’m sure the fans would love it.”

You look over to James as he curses to himself when the pencil tip breaks off. You snicker, not thinking twice, when you step forward to place a hand on his shoulder, “You’re pressing too hard.” You mumble as you gently grab the pencil from him. James watches as you turn to grab the pencil sharpener, shaving off the empty end of the stick until you can see the soft pencil again, “Aw, you’re gonna help me out?” He presses a hand to his chest as you roll your eyes. Whatever conversation Jeff, Gareth, and Naomi are having, you pay no mind to it anymore. “Shut up, take a seat.” You nod to the vanity chair.

James takes a seat, and you shake your head as you step forward, tipping his head back for a good angle as you say, “Remind me again how you’re an artist and still don’t know how to apply eyeliner correctly?” You mumble as you begin softly applying the makeup to his bottom lashline. James smirks, “I can’t be good at everything.” He jokes. You roll your eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Just look up at the ceiling, please.”

And in the corner of your eye, you catch him— Eddie.

He’s watching you and James with the sharpest gaze you’ve ever seen— angry and daring, and it only falters when you turn to look at him. You don’t know why, but your heart seems to rise to your throat, and there is an annoying twist in your stomach when you see how his jaw ticks in anger. You don’t notice it until Eddie’s gaze flickers down, and you suddenly feel the warm heat of James' hand pressed against your waist.

Your body heats at the attention, and you shy away from Eddie’s accusing gaze, returning to your task. Your eyebrows are furrowed in concentration as you apply the makeup, and you try desperately hard to ignore the way James is gazing up at you or the gentle squeezes he gives you when you shift. What’s even harder to ignore is the hole Eddie is burning through your head— and god, why do you feel like this?

Why do you, for some odd reason, wish it was Eddie beneath you? Why do you wish it was Eddie’s hands touching you? Why do you wish Eddie’s brown eyes were gazing at you? Why do you wish it was Eddie’s warm skin beneath your fingertips?

Your body and heart want Eddie for selfish reasons, but deep down, you and Eddie both know it’s best not to venture down the short path you’d started. But that doesn’t mean you don’t think about it. That doesn’t mean you don’t think about what it would be like to have Eddie in all the sinful ways you’d both tasted.

You don’t hear James the first time, but your attention snaps back to him when he gently squeezes your hip, “Huh?” You blink.

James chuckles as you pause your task and gaze down at him. His gaze dances all around your face for a moment, pearly white teeth digging into his smile before he speaks again, “What are you doing tonight after the show?”

And god, why the fuck is James looking at you like that?

You shrug, “Um, I— I don’t know why?” You ask, finishing the last few touches on his makeup. James shrugs, watching as you stand up straight and put the cap back onto the pencil, “I was thinking maybe I can take you out? Like a date?”

You almost choke at that. Your eyes are wide as you blink at James, heart racing and mind a whirlwind of thoughts— and Eddie is still watching you.

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can say anything, Richie bursts through the door with a grin and an exclamation of two words.

Show time.

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part eight

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a/n: ANNNDDD HERE WE ARE, if you've made it to the end and see this, thank you for reading, ilysm and i appreciate any for of feedback, i love to here ur funny, sweet, and smutty thots <3 ALSO A BIG THANK YOU TO @siennamagee FOR THE IDEA OF THE SCENE WITH JAMES, ILY STINK <3 LET THE GROVELING BEGIN !!

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cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @jesssssmaybankk @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2

@daddyhetfield @s-u-t @hereforshmut @mmunson86 @welcometohellsock @lma1986 @birdsinmywalls @animechick555 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @spideydreams00 @lorosette @prestinalove @sirensleepingsoundly @nabiiturner

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red-writes · 9 months

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crushing on taiju shiba is so hard because you can never truly get a read on his mood. he’s grown up now and learned how to dial back his personality so not everything he feels is shown on his face but it’s hard to tell wether he likes you back or not, his poker face for romance is incredible. you guys have gone out together a few times you and he has yet to kiss you, even though you’ve dropped multiple hints that you were ready, but when other men try and approach you on the street he makes it clear that “she’s with me.” and they can’t help but back off after being face to face with a man looming at 6′5 and is nothing but thick muscle. crushing on taiju is very difficult because you've watched the sunset together and he’s always whispered “beautiful” and you were never sure if he meant you or the view. he doesn’t compliment you directly and every night before you see you him you doll yourself up hoping that tonight he’d comment on it but every night he looks you up and down, devouring your appearance with his eyes and proceeds to ask you if you’re ready to go. furthermore he only calls you ‘kid’ and sure there was an age difference but the nickname made you seem almost like a little sister and not a love interest. but with taiju there were those sweet times where you'd hear him call you by your name and the sound would have you floating on air.

crushing on taiju is dangerous because he’s such a gentleman to you. he pulls out your chair, tucks loose hairs for you, covers you with his figure while you adjust your dress and yet he has yet to let you know if his heart is beating just as fast as yours or if he's just being kind to you. and you're getting to the end of your rope- you couldn’t keep sitting in limbo like this, what were you supposed to do it was like torture waiting for him to confess to you and you decided that waiting was no longer an option but you soon discovered that crushing on taiju was actually impossible because as you entered his apartment using the key he gifted you a while back you discovered a girl in his bed while he rested half dressed on the love seat across the room in front of the bed and you froze before mumbling an apology and quickly leaving and shutting the door behind you. you could hear his shuffling behind you, calling your name and the sound of your own sniffles and cries drowned out that sound. once you make it home your phone is blowing up with calls that you know are from him. it just all made sense now, the reason he never actually made a move on you...was she prettier than you? did she have something you didn’t? what made her special to taiju and not you? your own insecurities bubbling to the surface as a result of his actions. you jumped as you heard several rough knocks at your front door. you opened it only to be met with the very man you were trying to avoid. he was out of breath, looking as though he came here on foot. he was breathless as he explained the situation to you. a childhood friend of his just needed a place to stay for the night and that she was moving to another city the next day. there wasn't anything happening between them he explained and the weight of doubt is lifted off your shoulders but his explanation didn't quite answer every single question you had.

“if this is true then why haven't you told me you liked me? or...or that I'm pretty and you enjoy having me around? and you always call me kid- I just..” you felt tears brim your eyes and you didn't want to cry, you didn’t plan on this you just wanted him to like you as much as you liked him. he pulled you into a hug and you began to softly sob into his chest as you hugged him back. he squeezed you tight, his heart hurting- he really didn’t mean to make you cry, hated seeing you sad.

“i do like you..” he sort of whispers out and you freeze for a moment as you hear him out.

“i like you so much and i think that you’re stunning and i love having you around more than anything i..want you around all the time, you’re so special to me” he confesses and you lift your head from his chest and he moves his hands to cup your cheeks. you smiled up at him, cheeks smothered in tears and nose full of snot. taiju didn't care, he thought you looked gorgeous. he leaned down and pressed a kiss on your forehead which made you pout. he noticed your reaction and used his thumbs to wipe your eyes dry.

“don’t want our first kiss to be after i made my girl cry” he says and you giggle at the nickname.

maybe dating taiju shiba would be even better than you hoped.

#red writes— ੈ♡˳#tokyo revengers x reader #fluff #taiju fluff #taiju shiba #taiju x reader #taiju shiba x reader #taiju shiba x reader fluff #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo revengers fluff #not proofread #enjoyyyy

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bisexual-horror-fan · 5 months

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Do-Over-December 10th. Mirror Sex. "More Than One Way." Bo Sinclair X AFAB! Reader.

The do-over of Kinky December is going on! Bo and mirror sex, what more do you really need honestly? Not much to say but this event is fun and I hope you all enjoy it!

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 2.4K (Old Length, 2.1K.) Warnings: Alcohol Mention. Dirty Talk. Jealousy And Possessive Behaviour. Manhandling. Choking. Vaginal Fingering. Hair Pulling. Rough Sex. Degradation. Name Calling. Semi-Public Sex. Exhibitionism. Bo Is A Bastard.

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You are a low maintenance and relatively easy to please, you never ask for much of anything, and you were quite content with the life you had carved out in Ambrose, further still you were very happy with him. Perhaps this causes the change of heart, pushes you to be genuinely honest because you ask for so little, and it was almost your birthday, you thought he just might give it to you.

He could be in a giving mood on occasion, and what better time to set off that than your birthday?

Bo had laughed when you asked for it, “You wanna do what now?”

You were already half regretting this decision based off of his initial reaction alone. Crossing your arms and looking away from him, you started to downplay it, “Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

He scrolls and flips the magazine closed on the tabletop closed, he tossed it aside as he said, “Naw it ain’t nothin’ c’mon, I just wanna make sure I was hearing you right.”

You let out a small sigh and looked back over, he was smiling, a little smug but still seeming like he genuinely wanted to know as he sat at the table in front of you.

A deep breath and you push yourself to repeat your previous statement, “I wanna go out for my birthday.”

“Like out-out?” He leaned back in the kitchen chair he was seated in and gestured vaguely to the window with the hand that currently wasn’t holding his beer, “Outside of Ambrose?”

You nodded once and were about to start defending yourself and giving reasons why it was a good idea, and why you wanted it so much, how good you had been that you felt you’d earned it. You were about to begin to tell him about how much you helped out around here and how well you listened, and you wouldn’t ask for anything else-

But before you could even start he gestured for you to come closer, you did, pushing off the counter you had been leaning against and coming over to him, closing the gap between the two of you. As you were right in front of him you knew what he wanted, a single nod being the gesture that he wanted you to sit on his knee, and you did so easily. His hand met your lower back, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, it was quiet for a moment. With his nose buried in your hair, he asked, “Where’d you wanna go?”

That is how you ended up here.

You wanted to go out, go dancing with him, he seemed reluctant, but you weren’t super familiar with the general area, you didn’t live around there before. Back before you knew him you lived states away, you were on vacation with friends when you stumbled into Ambrose and fell into his life. So as a compromise you decided to let him pick the place, he had been into the nearest big city far more than you had, and it seemed only fair, he seemed MUCH more interested after you mentioned that he could choose the venue.

Now the reason why he was so into it was made apparent.

You’d been having fun so far, the tables are all occupied, leaving you up closer to the bar than Bo would like, especially because the bartender was looking at you far too much. As soon as the bartender attempted to verbally flirt with you, that was it, you were pulled away to the bathroom.

The set-up of this club was different, having single room bathrooms with doors that locked, as opposed to a more traditional bathroom with usual stalls. You couldn’t protest, you knew if you tried it would fall on deaf ears, he’d have no sympathy, you could tell by his body language that he’d made up his mind. The door is opened, you are shoved through it and pushed against the door, your back meeting cool metal and his mouth is on yours.

The reason why was obvious. He needed to stake his claim, mark you as his again, you would never ever want anyone else, and you weren’t flirting with the bartender back, but the fact that he was even comfortable enough to attempt it with you was reason enough for this. He had his hands all over you, rough and possessive and so thoroughly Bo.

You were breathless when his mouth finally pulled away from yours, and he turned his efforts towards attacking your neck, his hips pushed into yours, you feel how hard he is against you. He spoke, voice as rough as he was being,“You like how he was lookin’ at you?”

Head was already swimming from the drinks and from the sudden make out session, arousal filling you rapidly, you stumbled over your response, thinking was hard when your panties were this fucking wet, “Wha-what?”

Wrong answer.

He was off you, hand on your wrist, and he dragged you from the door, it was very sudden you nearly tripped but managed to stay upright. Then you were right where he wanted you. He placed your hands on the counter flat and one of his hands was curling around your throat from behind, the other on your forehead, pulling your head up, and he spoke harshly in your ear, “Fuckin’ look at yourself.”

You did as instructed. Eyes half lidded, clothes slightly askew, breathing harder, you looked almost as turned on as you felt.

“What do ya see?” His hand on your neck squeezed and you swallowed thickly. You took a little too long to reply because he decided to answer for you,“Cuz I’ll tell you what I see.”

His hand came off of your forehead, keeping his other hand firmly around your throat as the first one reached up under your dress, fingers felt you over your panties, and you gasped at the contact, “I see a fucking whore.”

How he spoke to you made you fucking throb and fill with want, somehow even more so than you already were. His fingers ran over your slit a few times, making your underwear even wetter as he pressed it closer to you, and it made your hips squirm, “Just look at what you’re wearin’ for Christ’s sake. This is your idea of a good time on your birthday, huh? Getting gawked at by a bunch of drunken assholes? Parading around in a skimpy little dress?”

His fingers were inside the barely there garment, his grip on your throat unrelenting to the point that you feared it might bruise, his grip too strong, you couldn’t reply, he tsk’d as his fingers slid roughly inside of you, “Must be, you’re fucking soaked. Don’t need any help from me this time, your cunt is fucking crying for it.”

He only let his fingers thrust in and out of you a few times before he pulled them out, and his hand finally left your throat, you sucked down a few deep breaths now that you were able to. You had no time to rest as he yanked your underwear down to your knees and hiked the skirt of your dress up over the curve of your ass. You heard him undoing his belt and unzipping his pants, and you couldn’t look away from yourself as you gripped the sink, you were so turned on just by the idea of this. Mess leaking down your thighs as you thought what a birthday present, getting fucked in a semi-public place like this? I mean, the door was locked-

Wait.

Was the door locked? You couldn’t remember if he locked it, you couldn’t recall hearing the sound of the lock turning over,

You looked at him in the mirror, he was looking down as he was pulling himself out, you wanted to glance over and check. Trying it was stupid and yet you did, head turning an inch in the direction of the door and in response his fingers were in your hair, tugging hard, it hurt but in that good pleasurable pain kind of way. Hot breath in your ear as he grits out, “Did I SAY you could stop lookin’ at yourself?”

You squirmed again from how harshly he barked that at you, and it made you bite your bottom lip before responding to him, eyes forward, once again having to face yourself, “No-Bo. You didn’t.”

If the door wasn’t locked, then anyone could come in at any time, and that idea got to you terribly. He tugged on your hair again, harder than before, and you winced at the pain, “That’s right, I didn’t. Eyes forward.”

Soon, the feeling of him sliding inside of you took over and filled you with pleasure instead. That first rough plunge into your dripping cunt made you gasp his name and your eyes wanted to roll back already at the feeling, something you knew he wouldn’t allow or tolerate yet again, so you stare forward.

One hand on your hip and the other came around to your chest after releasing your hair, he tugged the straps of your dress down, one after another, exposing your breasts to him and locking your arms to your sides in the process. The straps were tight in this position and holding your arms close to your sides, your hands still on the sink's edges, and he wasted no more time before setting a rough and steady pace, thick and hard cock stretching your walls.

You were trying not to be too loud, gasped and hushed breaths, and he didn’t like that. He gripped your hip harder and pinched one of your nipples, making you whine, “Filthy thing. Fuckin’ love it, clenchin’ down so hard on me.”

You did love it. All of it. The risk, the danger, the pleasure and how hard your heart was pounding in your chest, how you looked, how he made you look at yourself, at what he did to you. Eyes are unfocused but not unseeing, you love how you look, if you had his shotgun to your head and were made to conjure up a word to describe yourself or face having brain and blood paint the mirror before you, that one word you’d choose above all others was, mess.

You were a mess.

The best way to describe you when he had his way like this with you, a complete and utter fucking mess. All for Bo.

This wasn’t going to be drawn out long, wasn’t meant to be, was meant to be hot and quick and hard.

Yet you didn’t need long tonight, you just needed it like this, exactly like this.

He could tell, knew just how badly he was getting to you and how perfectly his cock hit that sweet spot inside and how it all was working for you.

“Bo-fuck-yes!” You gasped, and you clenched on him again, he chuckled, breathless himself and his hand slid from your hip, rough pads of his fingers finding your clit and circling it. You couldn’t hold back the loud moan you let out.

“You wanna cum, little whore?”

A frantic nod from you, pushing your hips back and meeting him in the middle, he filled you perfectly, you were getting so close, you begged. “Ye-yes! Want to cum so-shit, so bad!”

He slammed into you again and again and his fingers didn’t slow, his breathing picked up in your ear, and you were right fucking there, “Well I ain’t stopping you birthday girl. C’mon, do it. Fuckin’ cum.”

And you didn’t need to be told twice, this time you couldn’t help it as your eyes squeezed shut and tipped over the edge, letting out a long moan of his name as you came, shuddering and knees nearly giving out from under you. Thank God, he was still holding onto you and helping hold you up. You hadn’t even caught your breath when you felt his pace get sloppier, uneven, breathing erratic, so close to his end, you wanted it, so bad. You met his gaze in the mirror, still shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm, and you begged, one sweet word passing your kiss bruised lips,“Please?”

He gave you just what you need and groaned out your name, holding himself all the way to the hilt inside your soaked pussy when he unloaded, warmth filling you that felt so fucking right.

You both needed a minute to catch your breath after all of that. You were feeling so much, hot, sweaty, satisfied, more sobered up for sure, your knees were weak, and your arms hurt a little from the straps of your dress digging into them. He was still hard and still inside of you, he ground, and your breath caught, his hand slid up from your breast back to your throat, he squeezed.

“So you gotta be wonderin’ what your gift is.” Wait, you thought him taking you out was your gift?

It wasn’t? You were a little scared as you swallowed thickly, and asked,“I thought you taking me out was my gift, If it isn’t what is?”

He chuckled and his fingers pressed once more on your clit, making you moan softly before slipping from between your thighs and his hand closed around your wrist. He brought your hand up, and he was looking into your eyes in the mirror, his back still to your chest, and he said,

“You know how you’ve talked about wanting me to fuck you in front of other people?”

Your heart nearly stopped. You nodded once. You wanted that more than anything, it was one of your biggest fantasies, you clenched around him again, and that made him smirk.

“Yes Bo.”

“Well I figured I’d be nice and indulge ya.” You were confused, and he could tell, he kept talking, “I picked this place on purpose for a reason. You know what the place next door is?”

Your voice is small and still confused, “Another club?”

He laughed a little, slight cock of his head with a nod, “Yeah it is. A very particular kinda club, baby. One guy owns this one and the other.”

You still didn’t get it. Still confused. He brought your hand up and brought your fingers to the mirror’s surface.

“Tell me darlin’…” And what he asked next might have been the hottest question you had ever heard. Your eyes still glued to his in the reflection, that devious look in his eyes as he asked, “…Do you know how to tell if a mirror is a one or two-way?”

#Do-Over-December #Bo Sinclair x reader #slasher x reader #BHF writing #Enjoyyyy

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astarionancuntnin · 1 month

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his advice is free, do what you will with it

(more bg3)

#thats it im queuing these up #enjoyyyy #bg3 memes #astarion #bg3 #my posts #text post meme #astarion text post #baldur's gate 3 #astarion bg3 #shadowheart #edit #shadowheart text post #shadowheart bg3

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tylerjaaay · 1 year

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crystal exarch / g’raha tia 💎

#ffxiv #g’raha tia #the crystal exarch #my art #enjoyyyy

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redxcrackle · 2 months

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[Caption]

From this Twitter post:

#ENJOYYYY #carmen sandiego #cs #graham calloway #gray crackle #cs gray #cs graham #crackle #gray #graham crackle #red crackle #redcrackle #carmen x gray #carmen sandeigo netflix #carmen sandeigo 2019 #fanart #cs fanart #meme #Twitter

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cheesyjester · 2 months

Note

Hey are you still accepting Spamvil requests? If so can you draw Spamton and Jevil riding a carousel?

Here it isss! (Ignore the small mess ups- like how Jevil's lil pony doesn't have the stick thingy stabbed through it's lil body :3)

And here was the wip version

I also accidentally deleted the thing the first time somehow, and ended up having to redraw most of it based on a photo I took of the original one so that was a bit sad on my half but otherwise, I think it turned out better this way ^^

#spamvil 4life #spamvil #deltarune #jevil #spamton #cheesyjester #here is the request you asked for :3 #enjoyyyy

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diseaseriddencube · 3 months

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@hystericfae for our anniversary, the only courier edit I'll ever make 😍

#akudama drive #rave ramblees #okay the ask from earlier was The Surprise #but i just made this and was like. oh wait. this can be the Better Surprise #enjoyyyy #capcut on desktop is so so much better too omg

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madebysimblr · 5 months

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Another little smattering of poses for you, made for one of my favorite sim dads getting too into crunching numbers to put their kid to bed properly lol. check out the poses in action -> ( 1 l 2 l 3 )

For this set you will need @hula-zombie 's Book and Pen posing accessories which can be found here

In game this is called 'Working Late' and comes with 5 poses(and an alternate pose for one of em)

TOU: don’t put anything I make behind a paywall that’s it.

Download under the cut :)

simsfileshare l mediafire

#ts4cc #sims 4 cc #sims 4 poses #ts4 poses #madebysimblr #enjoyyyy #i think these are far too cute to be forgotten about

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mochiwei · 6 months

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Linktober sketches! I love doodling messy sketches so much 🥹💕

#behind the scenes #Linktober #Linktober 2023 #my art #illustration #artists on tumblr #fan art #digital art #mochiwei #procreate #zelda #tloz #link #enjoyyyy #I love sketching #just scribbles

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jitterbugbear · 6 months

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the star of the show 💫

#she spins!! forever! harrowing if you think about it too much #very inspired by angelina ballerina NOT THE 3D monstrosity #i painted the curtains the rocks the floor and the tree with inks/watercolours #and the cat (i named her agnes) i animated in procreate #the bg is a painting by samuel davis i loveeee public domain artworks<3 #enjoyyyy #mixed media #ballet #theater #artists on tumblr #animation #illustration #art #jitterbugbear art #digital art

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tr1ckysp00k · 1 year

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•Bob x nurse reader•

[warning: mentioning of scars, murder, cannibalism (I mean, this is bob), mental illness, mentioning of sharp objects (such as syringes, knives and such, ¿suggestive?]

Slightly proof read: I added more detail in certain bits of the story, and corrected any misspellings and missing words <3

Enjoy! <3

After years moving to various health schools, you’ve finally had became a licensed physician! You had a wonderful job, and big house, and lived in a amazing town!

Until. .

Your whole ship sank. You suddenly weren’t making enough money as you should, now this was a major problem considering you needed money to pay off EXPENSIVE bills, and nonetheless food, the very thing that keeps you alive.

All these problems were pulling you at the edge of a cliff, either continue down this path or. .

•

You decided to move to a smaller house in a less expensive town. You needed to be able to pay for food, and a home, so you choose to live in the cheapest town you could find.

This place was not all of a dump. .

Well it mostly was, but it couldn’t get worse. You unpacked your stuff from inside your shabby house, getting ready for a new day in a new place. You’ve already signed up for a job at the hospital. .which looked more like a asylum, but ANYWAYS.

It paid you well, you were able to keep afloat, there were only so many people working there. Your patients were well-behaved too! But then you hit another bump. .

Day 1

11:00 - AM

You walk into the hospital, which was cover in polar white paint, while the floor was decorated in lose, gray tiles. Something felt off once you stepped inside, like today was gonna be a bad day. .

Reluctantly you walked in, dusting off the stomach-churning feeling with a shake of your head. Once you clocked in, almost immediately, you were called into office. The head informed you that you were gonna be handling a ‘special case’ since you were ‘the only licensed nurse’.

•

To be honest, it’s mostly because you were the first person to arrive work.

They had specifically instructed you on what you’ll need to do and sent you off with a little warning.

‘We are not worried about you hurting him, but him hurting you. . If he does get a little ‘frisky’ we laid out some syringes filled with chloroform (aka the ‘knock out drug’)’

•

Now you were worried, a lot actually. ‘He will hurt me? Why would he do such a thing? Is he mad or something?’

You continuously fidgeted with your fingers as you slowly made your way to the pale white door. Your heart rate was at a faster pace, feeling as if it were trying to escape from your chest. You gulped as you placed you hand on the cold handle of the door, slowly opening it to reveal. .

•

Nothing. Nothing but a empty hospital bed, lied out equipment that rested on a tray, and documents. You hesitatingly walked in the room, heading for the documents. You opened the vanilla colored folder out of curiosity, reading through the fine printed lines of words.

‘Bob velseb, hmm what a peculiar name, where have I heard that before. .’

As you tried to flip over the sheet of paper, something felt out from between the pages.

“The devil has come out?” You said in a whisper.

BAM

The slam of the door echoed through your ears, swiftly turning, only to be knocked to the ground. You were face to face with a large man with pale white skin that was lathered in cuts and bullet holes from top to bottom. His smile only contained pure mania. He placed one of his massive arms beside the door blocking it so you couldn’t run off and within his other arm, his hand held a scalpel. He dazed amongst your terror filled eyes, you were basically paralyzed in fear. He pounced onto you, holding the small blade at your neck.

“Did you know. .~ the heart organ can survive 6 to 8 hours outside of the body?…” a chuckled followed his horrid fact.

“Did you know, breath mints are a thing?” You seethed, kicking in the base of his stomach. He slid amongst the smooth-like tiles, then charging at you. You ran in a panic, aiming to grab one of the syringes that were spread on the ground. You did manage to catch one, a small ‘yes’ of relief escaped your lips but, weren’t paying no attention to bob.

You grabbed you by your neck, pinning you to the dirty ground while holding the scalpel near rim of your stomach. Cyan ruled over his eyes with a sadistic passion. And drool ran over his lips, like a river. With swiftness you hammered the syringe into his arm. He hissed out of pain, and threw you aside. He ripped the shot out his skin, and attempted to make his way towards you before

Boom

Went the man, as he made contact with the ground. He was out cold. You had took it to your advantage. .

•

After you removed any bullets that were lodged in his stomach and back, and sewn him up, you decided to do some digging on him. You read through the paper that read ‘devil has come out’ the placed were you left off, and read through the lines.

‘This makes more sense now..’ you thought, as you furrowed brows at the man that was out cold on the small bed, his large stature took over.

‘How isn’t this guy dead?’ You questioned as You glared at the disc that held the blood covered bullets. Suddenly thoughts were put to a pause when you heard the man shuffling around the sheets. You held a vile close, just in case he tries any funny business.

He arose from his head-aching slumber. Holding his noggin in his hand, clearly a bit in pain from the ‘nap’ he took. It didn’t take long for him to notice you in the corner of the room, sitting in a slightly broken chair. He slowly got himself up, and attempted to get off the bed to come towards you, but you showed him the syringe just as a little warning. He plopped back down in bed, still making eye contact.

By this time he had both feet on the ground, but was still slouched in the bed. His fore arms rested atop his legs, as he let his arms carry his weight. His eye were trained onto you, the itching hunger to grab and bite was clear as day in his eyes. You made sure to show him that you were not afraid, staring right back into his crazed filled eyes.

•

All of a sudden someone opened the door, you made sure to keep bob in your vision no matter who it was.

“I say, y’all did well?” The man asked with a question in tone.

“He tried eating me, but I got done what needed to be done.” You say, with a expression that was as blank as a board.

“He… what?”

“Nothing, just keep a very close eye on him, while I get his lunch ready.” You got out the rusty chair, handing the doctor the vile.

Bob frowned a bit when he saw you leaving the room, something about you made him feel a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach, and it wasn’t hunger I’ll tell you that.

•

You had gotten the food prepped and ready for ‘your patient’. You wanted to hurry, you didn’t trust bob with your fellow employee. And if he did get hurt, you’d be responsible for the incident, since you left them both alone.

When you returned, everything seemed fine. They confirmed that bob didn’t try anything, and stayed from afar. You escorted them out the room, making sure they exited safe and sound, then faced the murderous cannibal. You dragged your feet as you made your way to give him his tray, which has plain food sitting in each category of the tray while a glass of fresh water sat at the edge of the plastic serving dish.

“Here, enjoy. Sicko. .” You trailed off at the end of your sentence, for only a mumble to be heard.

He cringed his nose in response, while slightly narrowing his his brows. He looked down at the food in disgust, complaining with a groan.

“This steak ain’t even seasoned. .”

He grumbled in irritation. Picking at the slab of dry meat with a plastic spork.

“Boo-hoo.” You giggled a bit, but immediately stopped when you saw the man frown in annoyance, a bit of sweat beading out your fore head as you reminded yourself you were in the same room with a serial killer.

You got everything done without a hassle. Including getting bob to eat, despite his pro-testing. What you really were ticked off about is that, you were STILL going to have to take care of him for a couple of weeks, until his injuries have recovered.

• What a way to star the day. . It’s not even past 12:00 yet.

• He’d request for you non-stop through out the day.

• Needed to get some paper work done? Forget it. You were on break? Time to get to working again, your patient is in need of you. You couldn’t even go to the bathroom without being bothered.

• bob had MADE sure it was only YOU coming to his rescue, attempting to bite, or tear into any other twat that tried laying a finger on him.

• when you did snapped at him for his constant, annoying request for you, he giggled it off saying it’s was cute seeing you this frustrated.

•

“There are other people here, why don’t you try asking assistance from them!?” *you’d hissed in irritation, frustration was visible*

“*he chuckles* aww, don’t

Be so mad. . Isn’t it yer job to help those in need, docs?” *he coos*

•

• but once the moon made its way up the night sky, you had given a sigh of relief. Finally able to rest, and someone else would have to put up with his bull-crap.

• When you were getting ready to go home, after a day of long work. You bid the tramp adieu, the frown he gave what up-most satisfying. Though, come tomorrow, you’ll have to go through this hell with him again. And he knew it.

•He just couldn’t wait.

Just until I figured out what happens in part 6 of just a bite.

Thank you for reading!

#spooky month #bob velseb #bob velseb x reader #enjoyyyy #nurse y/n x bob velseb #fanfic #i don’t know how to use tags #ITSASPOOKYMONTH #bob #<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

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bisexual-horror-fan · 1 year

Note

(seems like a good place to leave this) Billy edging you until you're nearly screaming, then handing you over to Stu, who overstimulates you until you're definitely screaming. Thoughts?

So you throw two of my favourite boys, my all time fave poly ship at me with my favourite kink ever and expect me to not write something for it? You would be extremely mistaken Anon. I have so many thoughts about all this and this is literally THE place to leave a thought like this. So let’s get into it.

—

Rating. Explicit. Length 2K. Billy Loomis X Stu Macher X AFAB! GN! Reader. They/Them Pronouns. Poly!Ghostface. Warnings: Dirty Talk. Edging. Orgasm Denial. Vaginal Fingering. Vibrator. Toy Use. Overstimulation. Hitting. Punishment Play. Pain Play. Begging. Crying. Forced Orgasm. Vaginal Sex. Billy And Stu Being The Worst/The Best.

—

A Battle Of Wills.

—

This is your fault.

At least that is what he keeps saying to you, continually tells you and reminds you, that this is all because of you. To quote him about ten minutes ago when you were whining, “If you’d just kept your mouth shut I wouldn’t be doing this to you.”

You are positive that he thinks he is making a good point but no one is forcing him to do this, he made this choice of his own free will and speaking of will that is how this all started. Claims over who had the strongest will, who could last longest in this scenario, and you are coming to realise that perhaps you were too confident, okay, not just confident, leaning more towards outright cocky and now you were paying for it.

You were just so sure that Billy wouldn’t be able to have the self restraint for this, you thought that being naked and below him, moaning and squirming, fully on display. You thought the feeling, the view, hell even the smell would draw him in and make him cave before you did, and yet, you were, fuck, you aren’t even sure how many edges deep at this point. Billy was showing no signs of wanting to slow down or stop or even release himself from his jeans, that smug look on his face, between your splayed legs, two fingers lazily pumping in and out as his thumb circles your clit as he asks, “How you holding up?”

Asshole.

You open your mouth to speak and his thumb presses harder as his fingers curl just so and it makes you let out the most pathetic sounding moan as opposed to any actual proper words and he laughs, “That’s not a real answer.”

Sucking down a deep breath, brows stitched together as you try to ignore the pleasure coursing through your tense body as you try to push out a response that won’t have him mocking you. The words that leave you sound rushed and strained, “M’ fucking fine.”

“Oh yeah, you totally sound fine.” Your eyes run down the length of your body to him, staring up at you with that look that makes you clench around his fingers, something he of course notices and naturally comments on, “I felt that.”

Before you could say anything else another voice is cutting in that has both you and Billy’s attention snapping towards the bedroom door, seeing Stu leaning against the door frame looking all too amused, “Now what is going on here?”

“A battle of wills.” Billy says before his attention is returned to you along with the quickening of his fingers once more, “Oh really?”

“Mmm.” He hums out as Stu pushes off the door frame and comes closer, his gaze feels predatory and somehow makes you feel even more naked than you already are in your totally bare state.

Billy hadn’t stopped and Stu watching now was adding to this, pushing you to the edge quicker, pleasure spiking at an alarming rate. He was watching every small movement and reaction with great interest, the way your chest rose and fell, the stuttering of your words when you try to speak, the hitching of your breath.

"Hi." He greets with a small wave, playful and totally him and you push out the response of, "Hey Stu."

The sensation rises, climbs, you are almost there, you are too keyed up at this point to do anything to hide how you approached that ultimate moment and thus he knew just when to stop, just when to pull his fingers out. He was cleaning them off, a groan against his own slick digits, revelling in the taste of your pure unfiltered frustration as you fight off the urge to sob.

Stu was beside the bed, hands in his pockets, head cocked to the side slightly, eyes roving over your sweat soaked form and he spoke again, “Soooo, name of the game is who can break first? He edges you till you beg to cum or he breaks first and has to fuck you?”

Still breathless you nod, eyes falling closed as you try to regain some composure, Stu snickers, “Musta really pissed him off this time. How long you been at it man?”

“Oh what would you say? Getting near an hour now.” He admits and you huff out a weak, “Feels like two.”

“And you still haven’t given in, it’s honestly impressive.” Billy praises and the warm feeling of pleasing him washes over you briefly before he says, “But I gotta get going soon, so let’s wrap this up, okay?”

“Shit yeah, it’s Wednesday, you got a class soon.” Stu said as if he just remembered and Billy grunts in acknowledgment as he was shifting on the mattress, you hear the nightstand opening, hear him rooting around for something and then it snapping closed again. “Yeah, but don’t worry, after I break em then I got a treat for you Stu.”

Stu points to himself with a wide grin as he lets out a pleased, “Ooooh, for me? You shouldn’t have.”

Billy is back between your legs and the bright flash of colour in his hand catches your eyes before the item he got from the nightstand is between your thighs and the sound of consistent humming fills the room. As soon as candy coloured silicone touches your overly sensitive clit your head is thrown back against the pillows, body is immediately taut, legs jerking from the sharp rush of sensation and the bliss hits like a ton of bricks, weighing you down, rooting you to the spot. Stu laughs as he exclaims, “Jesus, you’ve done a number on em. So loud!”

Were you being? You hadn’t even realised you were moaning until Stu pointed it out, long and low, curses and panting breaths and unable to stay still. It took all of two minutes for you to approach the edge, and that is when you break, that is when you beg at last, “Please, please, please, fu-fuck, I can’t take it, I can’t, no more, please!”

Closer and closer still, he didn’t look like he was going to move away, was holding the vibe just right on you and your eyes stay locked on him, still begging, still pleading, completely and utterly desperate, “Need it so b-bad, need to cum, please, please, M’ sorry! Just let me finish, let me feel it, please Billy!”

He had this look on his face, as if he was considering and that shift in his eyes like he might pull away again it makes you more frantic as your legs begin shaking. Your fingers are tugging on the sheets, back about to arch your volume increases, as if begging louder would make him listen. You were two seconds from tipping over, “Fuck, fuck! Right there, gonna cum, yes-”

That is the moment he turns it off.

You nearly scream, the heels of your hands press to your eyes and you want to break something, you cannot believe how bad this is, how in need you are as you fight back tears, laying slack on the bed and leaking an obscene amount you bite out, voice breaking, “You fucking asshole!”

“Awe, touchy, touchy.” He admonishes you for your comment by laying a firm smack down between your legs, the hit lands on your extremely sensitive cunt and the tips of his fingers catch on your clit and your legs respond to the rush of pain with a twitch as you yelp. He then tells you, “No one likes a sore loser.”

Somehow you restrain yourself from flipping him off but just barely.

You feel him shift again on the bed and your hands pull away, looking to see him tossing the toy aside and stretching, looking again, very fucking smug. “Looks like we proved who has more will power because while you-” He gestures to your still trembling form, “-are a fucking wreck who is practically crying to cum, I’m gonna get up and go off to class totally fine.”

He does just that, gets up and he pats Stu on the shoulder, “And I’m tagging Stu in who hopefully is in the right mood to help you out.”

“Seriously man, this is a great gift, our favourite slut already on the brink of tears and dying to get off? You’re too good to me.” Stu sounded genuinely touched and it makes you want to roll your eyes, the guy will take any chance to ham up a moment for a joke and take great pleasure in it, king of improv thy name is Stu Macher.

“What can I say, I’m a real generous guy. Have fun, I’ll see you two kids later.” A kiss pressed to Stu’s cheek before he is leaving, you are focused now on the tall blonde, a lecherous and sadistic grin splitting his features as he sing-songs out, “Bye Billy.”

Your body still feels weak, limbs heavy but you try to move back on the bed, get away from him but he is too quick, hands lock on your ankles and he pulls you down the mattress, “Hey, hey there’s no getting away from this sweetheart. I got no plans this afternoon and nothing sounds as fun as fucking with you does.”

His hands ran up your legs as he pressed onwards, “Don’t look so scared, Billy was the mean one today so I’m gonna be nice, alright?”

Why didn’t you believe him?

Billy was in no rush to get home.

Class was fine, he got a late lunch, and he was out of the house for around two hours, he wondered if you were both still going at it until he got into the hallway outside your apartment and he could hear you.

He unlocked the door, meandered his way towards the bedroom to find the door was wide open and you still spread out on the sheets and Christ even with the gag Stu shoved in your mouth you were this loud?

Turns out Stu’s idea of being nice was making you cum over and over again until you literally couldn’t fucking think anymore, forget about speaking.

It was nice to begin, the first orgasm had you thanking him, babbling with the relief the washed over you as you came with his fingers buried in your cunt and his mouth on your neck. It was still good when he didn't stop, merely slowed as he worked you up to and through your second and even enjoyable when he first picked up the toy for the third and fourth he wrung out of you.

But those happened over an hour ago and before he even got his pants off.

Now you were sore, exhausted and thoroughly cummed out, dried tracks of tears down your cheeks and forced to just take it as Stu worked on getting his own hard earned pleasure.

“C’mon man, haven’t we tortured them enough today?” Billy asked, Stu’s head jerked up, a look over his shoulder, a smile spreading on his face as he sees the brunette now watching the scene making him slow his hips, “Almost done, swear to God.”

Billy scoffed, a roll of his eyes as he started to come into the room, “Yeah I take you swearing to God real seriously.”

“What should I swear on to get you to believe me?” Stu was back to it, sounding a little breathless, a harsh rolls of his hips, one of your legs propped up on his shoulder, his hand near your knee as he fucked into you and his other hand holding that same toy Billy was using earlier to your throbbing and over worked clit. “A stack of your favourite porn maybe?”

He snorts out a laugh, a harder slam of his hips into yours and another broken moan tears out that he talks over, “You think M’ that sex obsessed? That I can swear on porno like it’s the fuckin’ bible?”

“Think? I know.” Billy sat down on the edge of the bed, his hand reaches out, sweeping some hair off your sweaty forehead, “How many times did you make them cum?”

“I had em keep-ing count but once they, ugh, couldn’t form words anymore-” Stu’s sentence stops with a moan, your body was forced through another brutal orgasm and you cry into the gag, it barely felt good, mostly it hurt, just painful clenching and flexing of your cunt around his cock plunging in and out of your abused hole. His pace was uneven, thrusts sloppy, he was going to cum soon, thank God.

Billy nods as he watches your body shake through the feelings Stu was forcing onto it, your eyes unfocused, drool down your chin, throat ruined from all the incessant moaning and crying and screaming into the gag, “Yeah once they start sobbing like that all bets are off, bet they aren’t even listening to this right now.”

“Ohh, you gonna want a turn after I cum in em?” Stu asked and Billy said, “I mean I didn’t cum earlier did I?”

Seems the afternoon is far from over and one thought breaks through your overstimulated haze, you have got to stop making bets with them.

#BHF asks #Welp I wasn't planning on it being all this but here we are #Billy Loomis X Reader #Stu Macher X reader #Poly!Ghostface x reader #slasher x reader #BHF writing #Enjoyyyy

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wexhappyxfew · 1 month

Text

sweet-talking silver bullets

I in fact have never been normal about anything ever so enjoy a hodgepodge of MOTA OCs I've developed just because. You might've met Annie Bradshaw (who was Annie Chattaway) in another prompt request a few weeks back, but I wanted to do some more with her....and then I gave her a new position, changed her last name, and added an intriguing plot for some ideas, so....enjoy the introduction to some of the crew of Silver Bullets, and Annie, who is trying to navigate a crew who is suffering from a heavy loss, plus some John-squared (Egan and Brady)!

"You must be the new LT, huh?" a voice said from her left; turning sharply to her right, she noticed a woman sat at the bar, a cigarette hanging from her lip, and sad, downturned eyes staring at a piece of paper in front of her. Annie looked around briefly, slightly confused by the sudden addressing of herself, but then nodded - the woman couldn't see it evidently but it was out of habit - and stepped forward.

"Lieutenant Annie Bradshaw, just in from Fort Des Moines," Annie said, outstretching a hand forward to the woman, who glanced up from the piece of paper and then quickly shook her hand before turning and looking away again, "I'm-"

"Sorry for your loss." the woman said, glancing her way, "Yeah, we've gotten that quite a lot."

Annie went quiet and shut her eyes for a moment. She sucked in a deep breath before clearing her throat.

"You must be….?" Annie started, trying to see if this woman was who she thought she was.

"Francis Montez," she said with a nod, "Lieutenant. I was Faulkner's copilot."

"From what I heard, you landed the plane beautifully," Annie said with a firm tone, "it was brave of you to do." Montez glanced at her and pulled the cigarette from her lip.

"I didn't have a choice now, did I?" Montez muttered, before folding the paper and standing to her rather tall height and blowing smoke from her lips, "The rest of the girls are around. You'll meet 'em all soon enough." And with that, Montez was wavering away, disappearing between the folds of men in uniform and Clubmobile ladies. Annie remembered seeing the article - the day the 100th lost Captain Birdie Faulkner, the day her 2nd Lieutenant Francis Montez risked every inch of herself to get her, the plane and the crew to safety. The day she got the call to report to Thorpe Abbotts. Annie slowly leaned up against the bar and let out a breath.

"Lieutenant….uh….Bradshaw?" Annie looked up and found a shorter woman, with bright, blue eyes and beautifully curled, blonde hair stood in front of her, lips painted a deep cherry red, a careening smile on her face, "Margie Harlowe, put her there." Margie had her hand stretched out in front of her to shake, pristine uniform on point for all to see, and those bright eyes to match. Annie offered a pinprick of a smile and nodded, shaking her hand firmly before putting her hands in the pockets of the jacket over her own uniform.

"Real name's Marjorie, but…I don't know, Margie became easier to yell through comms thousands of feet in the air." she said with a growing grin, "Really a pleasure that you're here. I know Harding's been trying to get another one of you pilots in for days now. Scrambling and all."

"It's a pleasure to be here," Annie said quickly, her nerves bubbling over at the worst of times, before recognizing her manners, "Lieutenant Annie Bradshaw. Just in from Fort Des Moines, hopped one of the newer birds to get over here as quick as I could." Margie let out a barking laugh and crossed her arms, throwing her head back like it were the best joke in the world.

"Fort Des Moines, you say that funny, where you from?" Margie asked her and then held up her hands dramatically from her chest, "No, wait….let me guess. New England…..maybe Vermont." Margie seemed to understand the look in Annie's eyes and shook her head.

"Nah, gotta be midwest, you're sweet as peaches." she said, "Iowa?"

"Minnesota. Mankato." Annie offered with an attempt at a smile.

"Ah! You must've heard - Major Egan, he's a Wisconsin guy. 's a wonder that he's so chatty." Annie laughed at her words, "I assume you've met him then?"

"Out on the tarmac. Showed me the mess hall. Well….officers' club." Annie said and Margie seemed to get a kick out of that and nodded.

"Yeah, he's real sweet until you gotta start having to actually sweet-talk him." Margie said, noticing Annie's gaze again, "Don't ask." Annie smirked.

"So, you met Silver Bullets yet? She's a beaut." Margie said, with a gleam in her eyes, "Flies faster than you can bet on her with." Something passed over Annie's eyes and Margie seemed to notice it, the smile crinkling the slightest bit. Silver Bullets. The B-17 that Captain Faulkner had piloted on various missions and had died in as well.

The B-17 awaiting its newest pilot.

"Nah, not yet." Annie said, "Met Lieutenant Montez though…..said I'd find you all around here."

"Yeah, Monty, she's….she's not doing great. Well, after everything," Margie said with a half-hearted smile that looked more like a depleted frown, "she had to get the thing on the ground with Birdie's body next to her." Annie watched as Margie sighed and shut her eyes and seemed to shutter.

"We're really glad you're here," Margie said quietly, looking up at Annie, "It's been…..weird, without Birdie here. Everyone trusted Birdie, all the other pilots, Operations��..her being gone, I don't know….they don't like the thought of us going up with just anyone." The words 'just anyone' seemed to strike something deep inside of Annie as she stood there against the bar and she nodded. Just anyone, she thought to herself.

"I intend to prove our worth here," Annie said quietly, "you, me, the whole crew. Silver Bullets." Margie smiled at her and nodded.

"Really, though, we're glad you're here, ma'am." Annie did feel her nerves settle for a moment as she stood there, just hearing Margie's words directed at her with consolation and comfort all at once.

"Lieutenant 'No Name' Bradshaw," a incredibly distinct voice said from over her shoulder, Margie's eyes darting upwards and Annie slowly following her line of sight, "can't believe you actually came." Major Egan grinned.

"We were just talking about you, sir!" Margie exclaimed, jumping in with wide eyes, "Just near about summoned you like you were God."

"Don't inflate his ego," muttered a brunette coming in from Major Egan's side, "it's bursting the bubbles at this point." Annie looked to Major Egan.

"Captain Brady invited me." she offered towards him and he raised a surprised brow.

"Oh leave her alone, sir," Margie said with a scolding, but playful look, "just because you can pull all that sweet-talking with Farley here-"

"Hey." grumbled the woman - her assumption that it was Farley was evident.

"Don't go pulling it with Bradshaw alright, she could probably take you out swinging, sir." managed Margie and Major Egan chuckled.

"Dancing? Oh I'd love to." he said, with a nod, "Want to give me a spin, No Name?"

"Leave her alone," Farley said from beside Major Egan, "Kennedy Farley, gunner on Silver Bullets."

"Pleasure to meet you." Annie said with a quick smile, before noticing Major Egan was watching her again, "Is Captain Brady here, sir? I meant to go thank him."

"He's somewhere," Kennedy offered instead, "but don't mind him-" she swiftly pointed to Major Egan who was grinning as proud as he could, "-this is just Major John Egan for you." Quite the sentiment and statement about a Major in the 100th.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw," Annie turned from Major Egan, Margie and Kennedy and found Captain Brady there, removing the peak cap and tucking it under his armpit, before sticking out a hand, in what she assumed as a friendly reintroduction.

"Well, No Name, seems he came right to you," Major Egan said with a chuckle, as Annie reached forward and shook Captain Brady's hand firmly. He raised his brow and Annie felt her cheeks burn.

"I meant to thank you," she said quickly, crossing her arms, and smiling up at him, "for inviting me. I was going to look for you." Brady smiled, his eyes lingering on her for a few seconds longer than warranted, before he looked behind her.

"Not giving the 100th's newest pilot too much trouble, huh?" he asked, seemingly to mainly look at Major Egan, who, when she glanced over her shoulder, smirked proudly and gave a bow.

"Wouldn't dream of it," he offered, as Brady stepped to her side, with a smile.

"C'mon, let's get you a drink."

#HERE WE GOOOO #im actually so excited about this crew #masters of the air #mota #mota writings #masters of the air oc #annie bradshaw #francis montez #marjorie 'margie' harlowe #kennedy farley #john egan #john brady #there's some more gals we have to meet but here's a few key ones!#ENJOYYYY #hope to write more with them soon! :D

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