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athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit · 3 years

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Feral Fatality

(Part 2)

I'm supposed to be working on the requests but here I am. Writing nonsense. But its my nonsense so *shrugs*

Pairing: Jason Voorhees x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence (or so I think), Blood (lots of blood), Murder (as usual), Feral side of the reader coming out for a brief moment, and cursing.

—

Three harsh knocks made you flinch and woke you up from your sleep.

"Hey, loser! It's dinner time. Eloiza wants you by the campfire. Now." Layla, one of Eloiza's side girls, stressed. You sat up, rubbing your eyes before you set your book on the bedside table.

"Did you hear me?! I said—"

"Yeah, yeah, I heard you alright. I'll be out." You swear the whole camp could hear her with the way she's squawking.

She stomped off, huffing loud.

You chose to stay in your baggy clothes. A black hoodie with a small yin-yang symbol on your left breast with a matching pair of black and white sweatpants, half of your ebony hair tied up in a ponytail.

It was already dark when you walked out, the moon climbing bit by bit up to the sky and subtly lighting your path. You shivered as a chilled breeze went past.

In the distance, you could see a small fire, dancing, swaying its fiery arms. It would have been a nice sight if not for the people around it.

Even from afar, you could see them engaged in a heated session, the smell of cigarettes and pot reached your senses, making you grimace.

"Yo look, it's (Y/N)," one of them said once you were close to the campfire.

Few gave you glances, before going back to their business. You remained quiet, though you noticed five people were missing in the group.

Fucking in the cabins, no doubt.

Eloiza was in the middle, her ass planted on someone's lap while she held a cigarette, both of them sharing and blowing smoke at each other.

Different. Out of place. You regretted coming out here, but if you didn't they'd only harass you in your cabin. Break down your door, and drag you out just to humiliate you. Then it fully dawned on you; no adults or teachers to protect you here, they could kill you if they wish.

You cursed as worst-case scenarios ran wild in your mind.

Damn, I'm gonna die tonight.

"Layla, why don't give her some food already, she's obviously hungry," Eloiza ordered.

"Ugh! Me again? Why can't you let Betty do it?" She was straddling Jake, vice-captain of the rugby team in your school. Layla subtly ground down her ass unto his crotch. The act was uncomfortable and disgusting to you.

Eloiza shot a glare at her, expression grim.

"Fine!" she jumped off, "I'll be right back babe," she whispered not so quietly. It was clear that they weren't in a relationship, only looking for someone to fuck. Lacking the sense of intimacy that lovers have. The air was just full of sexual tension and lust, anyone who's good at reading people would know.

And right now, you wanna vomit.

"While we wait for that hoe to come back, why don't you sit down with us for a bit (Y/N)?"

"Thank you, but I'm fine standing. I'll just take the food and eat in my cabin," you replied. Your smile was fake and your voice, monotonous. You hid your hands in your pockets.

"I insist, let's chat for a bit," she said. The rest of the group ignored you still as they were busy with their...partners.

You blinked and looked at her right in the eyes.

"No."

You refuse to submit to her, you submit to no one. You came to camp to get away from the noise people like her make. Ironically, you wouldn't be here if it wasn't for her either.

"What did you just say to me?" Oh, right, Eloiza hates you as much as she hates being disobeyed. Her face turned red, and it wasn't from the fire.

"No," you repeated.

"No?" she scoffed, "I told you to sit the fuck down. I was being kind to you and you de—"

"No, I won't sit down. And no, you were not kind, you just gave me an order and I refused."

The group froze and looked at you, halting their activities. Eloiza shot up, making you raise your guard and take a step back.

Still, you did not expect her to grab a half-burning log and fling it at you.

You barely dodged, the hefty ember grazing the side of your face, burning your skin and some of your black strands. You took a sharp intake of air and staggered back, dizzy and groaning from the pain as you hover your hand on your cheek. Gasps and cheers sounded around you.

"Nobody. Disobeys. Me." she said, accentuating every word. "You're just a useless piece of shit. You think being a smartass will save you? You do realize that I can kill you right here and now, don't you?" Eloiza threatened as she approached you, her eyes burning holes into your head. A hand grabbed her arm, "Babe, you can't murder her! We'll go to jail if you—"

"Shut up, Evan. No one would know what happened here. It's so easy to say a bear attacked and ate her. And who would notice her gone anyway? Everyone knows her parents don't give a shit about her."

She's right, no one would care if I'm gone. Nobody would give two shits if I died.

"But—"

"I said shut up, didn't I?! Do you want to die too, huh?!"

"Let her have fun, Evan," Betty commented.

"What the fuck is going on here??" Layla was back, carrying a bowl of soup.

While they were preoccupied, you twisted on your heel and bolted, your vision spun but you didn't stop. While a handful of traitorous thoughts tells you to drop dead, that you should just die than prolong your suffering, your heart didn't. Yes, not a soul cares about you, but you have yourself, your books, and your art. There was no fucking chance in hell you'd let them have their way with you.

You raced to your cabin and slammed it open, closing it in the same fashion and locking it in place. Your face was throbbing, stray tears stained your cheeks as you searched for a handkerchief to wet and cool your burns.

You eventually managed to lessen the pain, thanking yourself for bringing skin ointment. Your hands were shaking as you applied it to your skin, whimpers escaped your lips as it stung a bit. You took deep breaths to calm your heart down...

In. One. Two. Three. Out. Repeat.

—

Jason Voorhees stood in the shadows as the scene took place.

A girl was telling you to sit, and you refused politely, yet she asserted.

The others ignored you until you outright said no.

Was it so surprising to hear one word from your mouth that the whole group turned to you?

The girl snapped, took a burning log by its safe edge, and threw it at you. It hit your cheek and you staggered backward.

His grip tightened around his weapon as alarms rang in his head, an overwhelming urge to protect you arose. You did nothing wrong and that woman harmed you.

She was shouting, threatening to end your life. A man stopped her but...

Jason heard what she said, the words only made his sight darken with rage. What did she mean by "your parents 'don't give a shit' about you"? Did they not love you as a parent should to their child?

He sees you dash back to the cabin in haste and silently praises you for taking the chance to escape, he wouldn't want you to see what he'd do to them. The killer watched for a little longer only to make sure they wouldn't follow and hurt you again.

With you out of the way and safe, he emerged out of hiding. He threw an ax with precision, splitting open one's head like a coconut, the blood spattering on the ones nearby. In an instant, they shrieked in terror, their faces turning pallid, terrified as they scattered in different directions.

The hunt begins.

—

You broke out of your trance when the screams reached your ears.

Oh.

You were no fool of course. You knew the legend about Jason Voorhees was true, just from looking into the cases of mass disappearances, bodies never seen again. With no evidence, no one believed it, thinking it was just an old story to scare people away, a silly myth.

Nobody, except for one little you.

Well, maybe there was somebody else but you know what I mean.

It wasn't hard to connect the dots. There were two conclusions you came up with;

Either the killer was real or the people found themselves in the stomach of a monster.

You preferred the former, honestly.

Somehow, you expected this to happen. It was part of the reason why you came with them even though you knew the possibility. Risking your life in the process just to see him with your own eyes.

Wow, what's happened to me...

You sat up on the floor and as if on cue someone pounded on your door.

"(Y/N)!! (Y/N) Let me in! Open the door and let me in!"

By the sound of it, it was Betty.

You ignored her pleas, she deserves to get torn in half for being the bitch she was...

Wait.

Why not do it yourself?

A glance at the toolbox was all it took for you to stand up and take out a screwdriver. You approached the door, Betty still pleading for her life behind it.

"Please, please! I don't wanna die yet! I'm too young to—"

She stumbled forward when the door opened. But instead of a thank you, she screeched as you tackled her to the ground and stabbed her in the eye.

Stab.

Her blood splattered on your clothes and skin as you drove the metal tool into her skull several times. The squelching sound of meat and bones surrounded you together with the deafening pounding of your heart.

Betty had long gone silent. Her face was unrecognizable once you stopped.

Oddly enough, you felt a familiar thrill with what you did. It was the same one when you won your first contest, received your first trophy, and made your first masterpiece. It was a first.

And it was...enthralling.

You sensed someone's eyes on you. You looked up and saw a tall and massive man with a hockey mask covering his face, standing a few meters away, his machete dripping with blood. A glint of blue flickered in his eye for a moment.

Jason Voorhees.

Not knowing what to do and still high in the moment, you waved the bloody screwdriver at him and smiled.

"H-Hey," you uttered out.

The murderer—well, you were a murderer now too— trudged towards you, stopping when a scream to your left cut through the air.

—

Jason honestly couldn't believe what he was seeing. Little you with a little tool, gouging the brains out of the one he was chasing down.

With a screwdriver.

Multiple emotions went through him that moment, he was shocked that you could kill someone with your tiny hands, proud that you just killed said someone that was his prey, and relieved that you were alright.

Wait, were you?

He was snapped out of his thoughts when you waved and greeted him. You just waved and greeted— what? Why weren't you running back inside your cabin? Why didn't you scream at the sight of him? Did you not know him? Was the blood on his clothes and the weapon he was carrying not ringing any bells?

Jason wanted answers and moved to close the distance between you, but then a shrill cry echoed.

Someone got snared in his traps.

He looked at you, your face was dirty with blood, but your eyes were wide open, not of fear, but happiness?

He'll have to finish his hunt first. He gave you one more look before he trudged to the origin of the sound. He'll visit you later, that is if you're still here. He wouldn't be surprised if you used this chance to get out of the place, and he'd let you. You were innocent...different, and the murder you just did was well-deserved, albeit shocking.

It was the one who injured you, the cause of your burn, miserably crawling on the ground as her foot bled through the jaws of a bear trap.

"Help! Please help me!! I'm dying! Somebody help—"

She howled as the killer gripped the source of her pain and dragged her back to the center of the camp, taking the long path on purpose.

Jason was always angry in one way or another every time people came to disturb the place, but this? Oh no, all he sees is red, not a word had been heard from his mother ever since.

He would usually kill them the instant he catches his prey, but he wants—needs— this one to suffer. He knows, more than anyone, how it feels to be an outcast, to be bullied for being different. This hideous woman is going to die slowly, the pain she gave you a hundred times more agonizing.

"Let go of me you fucking murderer!" She shouted, kicking and clawing on the dirt in hopes of stopping him. Jason paid her no mind, his eyes focused on the fire that glowed close.

This bitch will burn to ash.

He stood in front of the campfire and brought up her body over it, her long blonde tresses turned to nothing as she flailed and shrieked pathetically. The killer crushed her legs before he let go, the flames big enough to devour her entirely, scorching her alive.

A yell from behind drew his attention as another one ran towards him, an ax lifted and ready to attack.

"Die you monster!" They shouted, embedding the ax on his shoulder. Jason felt no pain from the shallow wound, only an itch.

What a lousy attack.

Jason pulled out the silly thing and bashed it on his assailant's skull with one heavy strike, crushing the bones beneath. Lifeless, he tossed the body into the fire, the cries died down moments ago, only the smell of burnt flesh filled his nose as the embers crackled remained.

The undead man stalked away, feeling better than before. There were still a few people waiting to be disposed of.

Jason Voorhees will not rest until every single one of them is dead.

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thatdeaniegirlsworld · 3 years

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Toxicity Chapter One

Jo's P.O.V

The loud piercing screams of the voices that surrounded me were enough to give me a headache for the rest of the night. I stood in the back corner while watching the two average fighters in the ring. The first man was about 5'6, and had super upper body strength, but if he were to get knocked off his feet he would be done with how weak his legs were. His opponent was the opposite, great foot work, but his arms were getting tired from holding them up to block the other man's strikes.

I'm no stranger to the ring. I am, however, new to underground fighting. I knew it was illegal, but I was intrigued to find out more. I left Texas, my home state to try and start over completely. I was tired of never getting anywhere in life with the same dead end job. It was that typical 8 to 5 where you dreaded it every single day, and even felt depressed.

I loved to write, but no one ever gave any attention to my writing, but I was hoping moving here to Las Vegas would change that. A change of scenery, and starting over, that's what I needed.

"Hey there pretty lady, I've never seen you around here before." Some guy who reeked of alcohol and cigarettes says as he walks up to me. I roll my eyes, and keep my attention on the fight. "Hey! I was talking to you!" He screams over the roar of the crowd.

"Not interested!" I yell back, and continue to watch as the man with the upper body strength continued to give blows to the man beneath him until his face was unrecognizable.

"I don't care if you're interested or not. You're a woman, and you are here to serve us men." He says, laughing. He grabs my wrist, pulling me to him when I move out of the way, and twist his arm behind his back, snapping his wrist in half, and kicking him to the ground. "You crazy bitch!"

"Is there a problem here?" One of the security guards asks as he walks up to us. The man gets up, holding his wrist.

"That bitch just broke my wrist!" He yells, and I roll my eyes at him. "She needs to be kicked out!"

"You mean here? At an illegal underground fight? Who are you going to call? The police?" I ask rhetorically, and I hear a laugh from behind me. I turn to see a man walk up with cargo pants on, no shirt, and a black leather jacket. "Let's not forget to mention that you were trying to sexually harass me, sweetheart."

"Chad, is this true?" The man in the leather jacket asks the man who's name is Chad apparently. He holds his broken wrist, and looks between the two of you.

"Women use that as an excuse for anything these days." Chad says rolling his eyes, and I take a step forward.

"I don't need an excuse to kick your ass. You better be lucky all you got was a broken wrist." I spit, and he looks like he wants to hit me. "Go on, hit me. I dare you. Better yet, why don't you meet me in that ring, and I'll show you what poor excuse YOU are of a man?"

"Jon, you just going to let her talk to me like that?" Chad asks, and Jon leans up against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Are you going to accept her challenge?" Jon asks him, and Chad looks at him like he's out of his mind.

"You want me to fight a girl?" Chad asks Jon who pushes himself off the wall, coming to stand face to face with Chad. Chad looks up at him with nervous eyes before glancing over at me again.

"No." Jon say, and Chad relaxes a bit. "But, I'm not the one who put his hands on a woman. I'm not the one who issued challenge, she did. Now, it's not nice to keep the young lady waiting. I believe she is awaiting an answer from you." Jon steps back, leaning against the wall again while grabbing a cigarette, lighting it. "Well?" Jon asks with an annoyed expression on his face.

"My wrist is broken, so no." Chad says, and I smirk at him. "Once it's healed though, I don't mind putting her in her place."

My eyebrows shoot up, and I go to step forward when Jon holds out his hand in front of me before hitting Chad across the face with his fist. "What kind of man actually accepts a challenge to hit a woman you pathetic piece of shit."

"Not a good night for you, Chad." I tease as he spits out blood, giving me a glare. Jon shakes the blood off his hand before taking another drag of his cigarette.

"Get him out of here. He's not welcome again." Jon says, and I watch as the security guard from early drags him outside. He turns to look at me, blowing out the smoke from his cigarette. "What's your name?"

"Jo." I tell him, and he nods, finishing off his cigarette. He drops it to the floor, putting it out with the heel of his boot.

"Did he hurt you at all?" Jon asks me, and I shake my head. "I'd love to chat, but my fight is up next. Stick around, and critique me?"

"Why would I critique you?" I ask him, and he smirks, looking down at me with his piercing blue eyes.

"Don't you want to learn from the best, Angel?" He asks, his face dangerously close to mine. "Or do you think you have it all figured out?"

"I never said that." I tell him, rolling my eyes. "I can break your wrist just as easy as I did his."

He laughs, stepping closer to me. "You can't break what's already broken. You can try your best, but you'll only scratch the surface."

"Who says I want to try?" I ask him, and he smirks at me again. His facial hair being hit by the light of the moon as we stand near a window in the back.

"Girls like you don't learn how to do that just because they wanted to. I'm going to figure you out, Jo." He says, his eyes staring so hard I swear he's looking at my soul. "Now, if you'll excuse me. I have to knock out my opponent in less than three minutes."

*** It had been about a week since I had come across the illegal fighting gym, and if I had to be honest, I was intrigued.

Although my fighting days were over, I wouldn't mind just stopping in every week just to watch.

"Jo?" I hear my name and snap my head up. It was the security guard from the other night. "We met the other night. You broke that guy's wrist?"

"Right. I never actually got your name." I tell him, and he sits down across from me.

"Seth." He says, and shakes my hand. "You've been making quite the buzz."

"I have?" I question, and Seth nods.

"Oh yeah, everyone is talking about the badass girl who broke a guy's wrist her first night in Vegas."

"Not much goes on around here, does it?" I ask, laughing lightly.

"You could say that." He says, and stands up. "There's another fight tomorrow night if you're interested. Boss said he wanted you there, and, well, you don't want to get on his bad side."

"Who's this boss? Will I meet him?" I ask him, and he gives me a look. "What?"

"Jon is the boss. You've already met him." He says before waving, and walking out of the Cafe.

*** "Name please?" The body guard asks me.

"Jo." I tell him, and he scans his list with his pen.

"Sorry, you're not on the list." He says, and I scoff at him. "Sorry ma'am."

"The boss himself requested that I be here." I tell him, raising an eyebrow when I catch Seth. "Seth!" He waves at me, and walks over. "Will you please tell your bouncer here that I was requested by Jon."

"Oh yeah, she's with us, Roman." Seth tells him, and he gives me questioning look before allowing me though. "I'll make sure to get your name on the list next time."

"Good." I tell him, and he drags me all the way to a pit area above the ring. "What am I doing up here?"

"Jon's request. He wants to talk to you after the show. There's snacks and drinks in case you get hungry." Seth says, taking a water bottle.

"Can I ask you a question?" I ask him, and he nods. "If Jon is the boss, then why does he still fight?"

"You can take the man out of the fight, but you can't take the fight out of the man." He says before leaving me alone.

I hear the crowd scream and notice that Jon was now making his way down the ring. He had his signature black cargo pants with his black leather jacket, except now, it had the letters M.O.X down the middle. I'm guessing that's his nickname?

I watch his technique, and he definitely got a thrill out of doing this. Every punch had him smiling, even when he was hit and his mouth began to bleed. That didn't stop him though. In fact, it made him go harder at the fight.

He looks up towards me momentarily, a smirk on his face, blood trickling down his chin, and neck. I felt a shiver run up my spine, and he turns around to knock out his opponent. Again he did it in under three minutes.

He knows he's good. You can see it all over his face. I wonder how much one gets from one of these matches?

I continue to watch the people downstairs before the door creaks open. "I'm glad you came." Jon says, walking further into the room.

"I was told you requested me, and to not make the boss man unhappy." I tell him, and I noticed he had been cleaned up somewhat. "Why do you still fight when you own the place?"

"Long story. Did you enjoy the fight?" He asks, and I nod my head. "You fight, don't you? There's no way a woman like yourself comes into this establishment who hasn't been around something like this. Because the other type of woman that comes in here are to fuck the fighters, and you don't strike me as that type."

"Why does it matter what type of woman I am?" I ask him, and he walks closer to me.

"Because, I can see it in your eyes. You may have stopped fighting, but I can see the need for it. I'm not sure what has brought you here, but if you would like to get back into the ring you love, call me." He says, handing me his card. "Even if it's just to work out some stress, my gym is open. Oh, and you've been added to the list. Roman is very cautious when it comes to the fighting business."

"Thanks." I tell him before gathering my stuff. "See you around, Jon."

He nods at me before pulling out his cigarette, lighting it. I watch him take a drag, and blow it out. "You want some?"

"I shouldn't." I tell him, and he pushes off the wall, walking over to me.

"Why?" He asks, and I smell the smoke on his breath.

"That's a conversation for another time." I tell him, and pull myself away from him to leave the building.

*** There was something off about Jon. I couldn't put my finger on it. He was different to say the least. Every time I tried to write something, it would be about him, and I have no idea why.

Maybe it was the way his blue eyes shines when the blood started to fall down his body, combined with the sweat.

Or maybe it was the cocky walk he did on the way to the ring. Or the way he held the cigarette up to his lips.

You'd be blind not to find the man attractive, but the last time I fell for the 'bad boy' it didn't end well. Hence why I moved fifteen hours away.

I pull out his card, and look down at the number before adding it to my phone. I did miss fighting, and I definitely needed the money.

What could be the harm?

*** I pull up to the gym, and lock my car before walking inside. It was bare inside. Just the ring and the workout equipment were all that was shown. It was weird not to see the people here.

"There's my little fighter." Jon says as he comes out of his office. "I'm glad you called."

"I guess you can take the girl out of the fight, but you can't take the fight out of the girl." I tell him, and he smirks at me.

"So, tell me, how long has it been?" He asks me, and I'm caught off guard.

"I'm sorry?" I question him, hoping he isn't asking what I think he's asking. Would hate to beat up my boss on my first day.

"Since you've fought. How long has it been?" He asks, and now I feel dumb thinking he was asking about sex. Wow, I need a cold shower.

"I was forced to stop month's ago." I tell him, and he looks over at me. "Long story."

"You're not hurt, or sick are you?" He asks, concern written all over his face. "Is that why you were forced?"

"No. I wish that was the reason though." I tell him, hoping that he would change the subject.

"What did you specialize in?" He asks me, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

"I don't really know. I kind of did everything, but I was always quick on my feet, and knew how to dodge really well."

"Something tells me you're being modest." Jon says, laughing lightly. "You broke one of my customers wrists your first night here."

"That was different, he was trying to cop a feel." I say, rolling my eyes.

"Remind me never to never attempt that. Unless you ask of course." He says with a wink causing me to laugh lightly.

"Okay bossman, what am I doing first?" I ask him, and he starts walking to his office.

"You coming or what?" He yells over his shoulder, and I follow him to his office. As I look around, I see no pictures if a wife or family.

"No family pictures?" I ask him, and he shakes his head, looking down at the table.

"Don't have one. This is all I have." He says, and my heart sinks. "So, do you happen to have any tape or recordings of your fights?"

"No. No one really knew I did it." I tell him, and he nods.

"Do you have a job?" He asks me, and I shake my head. "Good. I want you to be up here every day for the next two weeks, training. Then, I'll give you an exhibition match. If you impress me, I'll give you a job."

"Wait really?" I ask him, and he nods. "Paid to fight?"

"If that's something you'd like, yes." He says, and I nod. This way I could afford somewhere other then a motel and crappy food, and focus on my writing. "Great, come by tomorrow. Be ready to fight."

"I always am." I tell him before exiting his office.

*** I dressed in black leggings, and a pink crop top with my back jacket thrown over. I pull my hair up into a bun and make my way over to the gym.

Jon wasn't there at first, and so I just began working out until I heard the door open, and close. I was in the middle of a pull up, and so I dropped my body down, and wiped the sweat that had already began to pool on my body.

"There she is, my little fighter girl. You ready to train?" He asks, and I nod.

"I'm training with you?" I ask him, and he nods.

"You want the best don't you?" He asks me, and I roll my eyes at him. "Come on, get in the ring."

I look around at the familiar structure. It's been a while since I've been in one of these. "Jo?" I hear Jon call my name.

"Sorry, what's up?" I ask him, and he walks up to me holding wrist tape. He takes each of my arms, and wraps it up before letting me loose. "Will I be fighting men or women?"

"Mainly women, every now and then a man may show up." He says, and I nod. "Now, hit me."

I throw a punch but he quickly grabs it, and reversed it, locking it behind my back. "Reflexes are my strong suit." He whispers in my ear before letting me go.

He goes to kick me, but I quickly move out of the way. We dodge each other until he literally has me pinned up against the ropes. "Dammit girl." He groans, and pushes off me. "I may have met my match with you."

"Don't feed my ego, Jon." I taunt, and he smirks at me. "Come on, let's keep this thing going."

*** "Jo, can I see you in my office, please?" Jon asks me, and I step away from the punching bag, looking around at the other fighters training before walking over to him.

"Yes, bossman?" I ask, and he beckons me over to a room next to his office. "What's this?"

"This is where you will get ready for your fight tomorrow night, and I got you something special." He says, before walking further into the room, and pulls out an outfit.

It was purple, and lime green. My two favorite colors. I can't believe he remembered that I told him. Then he pulls out a robe that says "little fighter girl" his nickname for me.

"What did I do to deserve this?" I ask him, and he hangs it up on the hook near the door.

"I see a lot of myself in you. You're a fighter, angel. Tomorrow night, show everyone else that I'm right."

"Thank you, Jon. You have no idea what those words mean to me." I tell him with tears in my eyes. "Sorry, I didn't mean to get all emotional."

"Come here." He tells me, and he pulls me in for a hug. "I'm betting on you, my little fighter girl."

"I won't let you down." I tell him, pulling away from him.

"I know you won't. Now, go get some rest. Need you ready for tomorrow." He says, and I nod before leaving the room.

*** "You're telling me you do this for fun?!" He yells in my face. "But yet you cry when I lay a hand on you. I told you it was an accident! I love you, why can't that be enough? Instead you parade around those filthy men in almost no clothing for money!"

"This isn't about you, Dylan! Why can't you fucking accept that?!"

He grabs me by my throat, and slams me up against the wall. "You are nothing but a pathetic little bitch. You are nothing with out me!" He let's me go, and I try to gasp for air. "Your mother was right, you don't deserve love. You deserve nothing."

I jolt awake and the memory, and see that it was just half past nine. Fuck. Why did I have to have that nightmare the night before my fight?

My chest begins to rise, and fall quickly. No fuck! Not now, please. Just breathe.

"Baby, I'm so sorry. You know I love you right? I just lost control." Dylan tells me, and wraps his arm around me. "Why don't we go out for dinner? Somewhere nice?"

"I'm tired." I tell him, and he looks at me with tears in his eyes. "Of all of it. I can't keep doing this."

"Baby, I'm sorry. Believe me!" He starts yelling. "I'm apologizing, and you don't want to listen to me!"

He takes my head, and slams it against the table. Pounding is all I feel, and my hearing was impaired. "Fuck, baby! Look what you made me do!"

"I thought I told you to get rest?" Jon's voice pulls me from another memory.

"Sorry, boss." I whisper and make my way to the room next to his office. I sit down, and he sits down across from me.

"What's wrong?" He asks me, and I shake my head. "Jo. Tell me."

"Just had a few nightmares last night, no big deal." I tell him, and he moves to kneel in front of me.

"Do you need to reschedule? You don't look good, angel." He whispers.

"No. Fighting is the only thing I do right. I told you I wasn't going to let you down, and I keep my promises." I tell him, and he looks up at me. "I'll be fine."

"Jo." He says warily, and I wave my hand at him.

"Go. I need to get ready." I tell him, and he sighs before picking himself up off the floor.

"Good luck, fighter girl." He says, and it actually puts a smile on my face.

As I make my way out, I see Jon from in the pit looking down at me. He sends me a wink, and I await my opponent.

Imagine Dylan's face. Give him what he always did to you. So, that's exactly what I did. I delivered many uppercuts, and straight punches, and she was out cold in under a minute.

I look up at Jon who smirks at me. My hand being raised, and men looking like they want to have me for dinner.

I make my way to the back, and lean against the door, breathing in. Man that felt good.

"Can I come in, angel?" Jon's voice is on the other side of the door. I open the door, and he pulls me on for a hug. "Forty five fucking seconds. You're so bad ass!"

"Watch out, I don't think there's room for both our egos in here." I joke, and pull away from him.

"Well, I think it's safe to say that you have a job now." He says, and I breath out a sigh of relief.

"Thank god. Maybe I can get an actual apartment and decent food now." I say, laughing.

"Well, tonight dinner is on me. Have to take out my newest fighter! So, shower and get dressed. I'll be waiting for you fighter girl."

*** I was having about three fights a week starting out, and every single time, Jon was there to support me.

I was beginning to get the nickname "minute girl" by the fans, and I loved it.

"Hey minute girl, care for a drink?" I hear a voice ask, and I turn around to see them. My face pales, and I drop my drink. "Something wrong?"

"What are you doing here?" I ask him, and he gives me that devilish smile. The one I once fell in love with. "How did you find me?"

"You're popular, minute girl!" He yells, and I feel my skin crawl. I look over to Seth, and he sees my reaction.

"Stay away from me." I tell him, and he reaches up to touch my face. I flinch, and slap his hand away. "Don't touch me."

"Is there a problem here?" Jon's voice comes from behind me.

"No. Dylan was just leaving." I say, and Dylan balls his hands into fists.

"What a shame, it was just getting interesting." Dylan says, and steps closer to me. "I know you miss me, baby doll."

I shove his chest to see him get furious enough, but he wouldn't hit me in public. "Can't calm your fighter?" Dylan asks Jon.

"Get the fuck out, and never come back. I'll know if you do." Jon says, and Seth takes him outside. I let out a breath, and grab the bar for support. "Hey, you alright?"

"Yeah, can you take me home please?" I ask him, and he nods.

"Of course. Come on." He tells me, and I follow him to his car. "I'll come back for your car in the morning, alright?"

I nod, and pull my knees up to my chest in his passenger seat. "I'm sorry." I sniffle, and lift my head up to look at him. "I don't know how he found me."

"Who is he?" Jon carefully asks, and turns down the music volume.

"My ex. He's the reason I moved all the way out here." I whisper, and Jon looks at me with pity on his face.

"Bad break up?" He asks me, and I look down at his cigarettes. "Need one?"

"I shouldn't." I tell him, but take it anyways. He lights it for me, and I inhale the smoke. "He used to beat me. Dylan."

I watch as Jon's hands tighten around the wheel. "He took advantage of me, too. That's why I broke that guy's wrist. I don't do well with strangers touching me, especially when I tell them no."

"Say the word and I can have him gone with no questions asked." Jon says, his demeanor rigid. "I mean it."

"What? Like kill him?" I ask, and he just stares at me. "You'd kill him for the things he's done to me?"

"I've killed people for a lot worse, angel." He says, and my body goes cold. He's killed people? "Only the bad people though, so, you're safe."

"You just admitted that you've killed people." I tell him, and he shrugs his shoulders. "You're not worried I'll run to the police?"

"Nope." He says calmly. "And you want to know why?" He says when we pull up to my new apartment.

"Because I know you've done it too."

#jonmoxley #wrestlingfanfic #aew

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r3b3lgrrrrrrrl · 4 years

Text

A LunaTic and her Gunn (Part 86)

"Lover"

@lovemythsworld

@creatureofthen1ght-v3

@crystalbaby12

Playing with Colson's padlock around her neck, Luna looks through the mess of lyrics she has scrawled throughout the pages of her notebook. Her guitar sits in her crossed legs as she swigs the handle of Jack. A lighter, her cigarettes, phone, a tin case of joints, ashtray and random other objects litter the bed around her.

Luna strums lightly, trying to figure out the bridge. Softening her voice, she tries to play it out.

🎼They say//If you dress//Like This//It means//You want It//So//IIII//Can take from//Yooou🎶

Luna continues strumming the chords. Imagining the sound of the bass and light drumming in her mind.

🎶They think//If you act//Like That//It means//You want it//And//I'llllll//Do what//I want//Toooo🎶

Luna rips a solo she has running through her brain. The bass and drums slamming together through her head afterwards.

"Fuck... I need a bassist." She talks into the air.

-------------------------------------------------

Colson hangs out on The Bus for a bit. Playing Call of Duty, burning and drinking as beer bottles empty and shot glasses are passed.

He shoots the shit with Sam. It being the first time they've had a chance to get to know each other. Both having a lot in common with their musical tastes and life experiences, being around the same age and struggling as lower middle class kids with no solid parents. Colson not realizing how long Sam and Luna have been friends or even that Sam is her only drummer. Let alone a musician at all.

"Fuck, Dude. I'm sorry. I knew you had to have some type of substance to be able to run wit Loons... But damn, I undercut you majorly." Colson admits. "You really stick a dude tonight?" He asks, amused.

"I don't know what you're fucking talking about." Sam dismisses him as she swigs her beer.

Colson nods with a chuckle. Immediately thinking of Luna. His Brooklyn Bitch.

"You two HAVE been friends for a long time." He smirks.

"Longer than most." Sam swigs her beer again, not fully sure on Colson.

"I can tell. You seem just as ferocious as she is." He says with a wide grin. "Imma go catch her... You enjoy." He smiles at Sam before disappearing off into the back of The Bus.

--------------------------------------------------

"Enh... At least he didn't try to fuck me." Sam thinks of all the other male musicians that have crossed her path. Bestfriend's boyfriends or not. Some dudes have no fucking cooth. "Maybe there is hope for them..." Sam considers for the first time since her poor first impression of Colson in NY

---------------------------------------------------

Luna's propped against the wall at the head of the bed. She's knocked out, guitar still in hand. Belongings in a disarray.

Colson can't help but chuckle again as he admires her. He truly loves her. Her maniacalness, her creativity, and her passion for what and whom she loves.

As he cleans her things off the bed, he finds her lyrics.

"Damn, yo...... She spits the illest shit... And on Ellen..? Fuck." Colson thinks admiring Luna's craft and steel pussy of bravery.

He finishes putting everything aside before gently taking her guitar. Knowing she'll probably move, she does.

"Baby...." She murmurs sleepily as she cuddles into the pillow.

"Baby? She hates Baby?" Colson thinks with his head cocked.

Biting the sides of his mouth, he sets Luna's guitar down. Standing at the bottom of the bed, he watches her sleep curled up like a cat.

"Chill the FUCK out, Kells." He tells himself. His heart is racing. She's NEVER called him Baby.

Colson lights a joint while still watching Luna. He's not sure what he's jealous of and is trying to shake it off. Puffing hard, he drops his heavy pants with a THUD.

Luna doesn't move.

"Fucking Sleeping Beauty...." He thinks snidely, hoping but knowing his pants wouldn't wake her.

Joint in his mouth, Colson pulls the blankets down from under Luna. She shifts as he climbs in, covering her with him.

Snuggling up close, she breathes out a whiskey stained "Mmmm... Lover..." As she reaches for him.

"Who THE FUCK is Lover, Luna?!?" He can't hold back any longer as he jolts back out of the bed.

The sound of her name pops Luna's intoxicated head up. Taking a minute to focus her eyes and brain.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" She asks groggily.

"I can't call you Babe or Baby Girl but you're off mumbling Baby and Lover in your fucking sleep??" Colson unloads.

Luna's drunken head is unsteady on her shoulders. She's not sure Why she's getting yelled at and is quietly taking the moment to decide whether to fuck shit up or cradle whatever the fuck is going on with her dumbass partner right now.

She tries the latter.

"What are you talking about?" Her sleepy, unamused eyes ask again.

"Who the fuck you dreaming about?" Colson spits out.

This wakes Luna RIGHT up.

"WHAT?" She asks, sitting up.

"Who the fuck is Baby and Lover? I ain't fucking Baby or Lover..." Colson cocks his head back.

"What.The.FUCK. Are you talking about because right now, you sound like a fucking psycho." Luna states.

Colson isn't making any sense to her.

"You said it in your SLEEP!!" He shouts, frustrated.

"Hold up. Wait." Luna puts her hand up.

Looking at Colson, she's starting to comprehend this stupid situation she's found herself in.

"Gimme that fucking joint." She states with her eyebrows furrowed.

Colson passes it to her.

"Fuck......" He thinks, knowing from her tone, he done Fucked Up. Bracing himself for her unleveling.

Luna hits the half a joint he passed to her. Eyeballing him. Her hands start flittering around as she speaks. Smoke from the joint swirling around her.

"YOU woke me the FUCK up on some Kitty BooBoo name bullshit I said in my SLEEP!!?! ARE YOU FUCKING DUMB-DUMB OR ARE YOU BEN STILLER FROM TROPIC THUNDER DUMB!!??" Luna shouts.

She places the joint between her lips. Running her hands over her eyes and forehead as she pulls hard on it as it hangs in her mouth as she exhales. Inhaling, she pulls on it again, before taking it away between her two fingers. Finally raising her eyes to his.

"You realize, you're on some fuck shit right now, right? And if you don't stop I'm gonna fucking kill you. So, how bout we both survive, you shut the fuck up and get in this fucking bed with me. Now."

Luna gives Colson One Look. It's One of many that says a multitude of things.

"WHO'S your fucking Baby?" He tests with a scowl.

Luna gives him The Most Annoyed look EVER as she hits the joint. Glaring at him as she exhales and stomps it out.

"YOU are my fucking Baby. My Babe. My Boo. My fucking Bae. Holy Fucking Shit, I think the correct terminology at this point, is my fiancé. Real talk? YOU'RE MY FUCKING ASSHOLE right now though." Luna's hands fly out with her words now. "And if you don't get in this fucking bed...." Luna threatens Colson as she strips off her pants and bra. Leaving on only a T and her panties.

"THIS fucking bitch with her fucking black." Colson thinks, trying not to want the treat enticing him inside their bed.

"You're such a fucking cunt." Colson states firmly as he climbs in with her.

Pulling Luna against his hard dick by her hips. He slips his hands down her dark panties.

"And a wet fucking whore." He claims.

Licking his fingers, while flipping her on her back. Not giving a fuck about her wound.

"Who's fucking Whore?" Luna coaxes.

Taking her shirt off as he rips the black cotton down and off her legs.

Pushing her thighs up, Colson presses his mouth against Luna's. Forcing his tongue and cock inside of her at the same time.

Gasping for air, she takes them both. Hands gripping Colson's ass as he delves deeper into her. Mouth sucking on his lips and tongue as her body succumbs to him.

Colson has complete control over Luna's body. Pinning both arms above her as he rocks himself into her warm inner body.

With one leg around his waist, the other tangled in his leg, Luna pushes her hips into his deep thrusts. Taking him farther inside of her.

"You do what I fucking say." He taunts as he grips her wrist tighter.

All this does is interest Luna's pussy even more. Held down, her hips buck drunkenly.

Colson's wing span is long enough to hold both Luna's wrists securely and place a firm grip on her wild hip. Holding her down, he sucks fiercely on her neck and face as he pounds his dick into her.

The submissive side of her kicking in, Luna let's go. Allowing her Lover to take whatever he wants. Moaning in pleasure as he handles her however he desires. Flipping and moving her into any position he likes. Always hitting all of her spots like an expert.

Colson prefers when they cum together but tonight, he's on a mission. Working her off four times before gripping her body hard.

"Say it." He demands as he fucks her, not being able to hold off any longer.

Luna shifts her hips into Colson. Pressing him deep inside of her. Clenching her walls around him. Clawing his back.

"Mmmphmmm... FUCK, Baby. You're my fucking LOVERRRR!!" Luna moans into his ear as she cums for a fifth time.

Satisfied with his work, Colson's body shakes as he cums Home. Laying down on Luna's chest, she strokes his hair. Both passing out.

Luna sleeping wrapped in her Lover. Baby, Bae or Boo. Whatever the fuck it is he wants to be called.

-------------------------------------------------

The next morning Luna instinctively wakes up. Her body and brain knowing she has shit to do. Hating her inner workings, Luna wants to stay where she feels like peace lives. In Colson's arms.

She watches him breath as she tries to will herself away from him. Only to lean further into the comfort of his arm's nook.

"Fucking Psychopath..." She smirks to herself. Colson's jealousy is both annoying and tantalizing to Luna. Hating how quickly and deeply she fell for him. "Enh... That's how you love, Loons... Quick, hard and forever..." She tells herself. Playing with her beloved ring as her eyes follow his tattooed chest up and down.

Shaking her head, she rolls outta their bed. Colson still snoozing. She quietly showers and dresses. Burning and ripping 30s along the way. Turning his ringer off, Luna Snaps Colson where she'll be. Turning it back on once he receives it.

Grabbing her bag of goodies along with her notebook and laptop, Luna leaves Sam a hand written note to Come Inside Please 🖤 Heading out The Bus doors without waking a soul.

-------------------------------------------------

The Crew is just finishing up when Luna pops in. Tech beginning their Magic. Asking if she's A Bother, she's assured No as she makes herself comfortable.

Plucking Colson's electric as she sits on the stage. Luna hits record on her phone.

Tech and Crew watch in amazement as Luna bops alone between different instruments for the next hour or so. Colson's guitar, Rook's drums and Baze's bass. Singing while playing and recording different parts to her song on her phone.

They've never seen an artist work like this before. Watching her create a raw song on her own out of thin air. Some finding it's fascinating to witness. Other's highly disliking her lyrics.

--------------------------------------------------

Colson's eyes are closed as his hand searches the empty bed for Luna. Disappointed when he can't find her, he knows where she is.

"Crazy bitch." He smiles to himself with his eyes still closed.

Rolling into her pillow to smell her, his morning hard on grows larger. Different images and memories of her dance in his hungover head.

"Mmmm... Loons." Colson thinks as he begins to touch himself.

Firmly stroking up and down, he needs an actual visual. Grabbing his phone he sees he has a Snap from Luna. The thought of her makes his dick ache as he opens it.

Colson stares at Luna's lips. Knowing what it's like to have her warm mouth wrapped around his cock. Not even reading it, he screenshots it like all of her Snaps, continuing on.

Staring at Luna's picture as he jerks off. The memories of his thumb wiping her mouth clean after she's swallowed his load lingers in his head. Making him cum quickly. Tossing his hands and phone to the side as his body weakens.

"GOD DAMN, Luna." He says out loud as he pants.

Laying there for a minute, Colson lights a joint before jumping in the shower and cleaning himself off.

"I wonder how she's doin'..." His mind still on his girl.

Out of the shower, he fires up another joint as he rails three Adds and gets dressed. Looking around the room on the back of The Bus, it feels weird to not have Luna beside him as he gets himself ready for the day.

Sliding on his rings and wallet. Looking in the mirror, he pulls the key to Luna's padlock out from under his collar. He's worn it around his neck since the night he locked it around hers. Colson touches the tiny steel object, feeling oddly sentimental and missing her.

"She said Yes..." He reminds himself as he tucks it safely back under his shirt.

Still missing her, he sighs. Grabbing the knob of the door, he goes to rile The Boys and find her. Deciding he needs coffee first.

--------------------------------------------------

Luna can't focus. She's got two separate melodies running through her head. The fast, hard punk tune she's working on and the other... A romantic, dreamy love song that's been swimming around since she woke. It first solidly appearing as she watched Colson sleep this morning.

🎼With this guitar string//He slipped on my hand//I take this magnetic force//Of a Man//To be my//Lover🎶

Are the first lyrics to actually formulate with it. Her life with Colson running through Luna's brain like a toddler with sticky hand prints.

"He's so fucking dumb." She thinks, laughing to herself as she remembers their fight last night over the word Lover. Now realizing where it manifested from. "Oh, Imma mind fuck his ass." Laughing again to herself.

Deciding to take a break, Luna grabs her notebook and bag. Heading out back to burn and see if she can get this other floating song on to paper.

-------------------------------------------------

Colson hits the venue with The Boys and Sam. Looking OnStage for Luna first, he asks if anyone's seen her. Tech and Crew have but they don't know where she went.

Annoyed, Colson wanders around the nightclub. He just wants to see his fucking girl. She's not BackStage. She's not in his dressing room. Stopping in the bathroom to take a piss, he takes a selfie too. Shooting a Snap to Luna before continuing his search.

-------------------------------------------------

Luna's out back getting stoned with a Roadie. She needs to find a solid bassist before Tuesday.

Yakking about, they both bitch about their First World Problems. Dude's complaining about his schedule as Luna's phone goes off from a Snap. It's Colson.

"This Motherfucker... I wish the fuck he would." Luna thinks amused. Body heating up as her soul and pussy throb as she reads it. Shaking her head with a wanting smile.

Functioning on her time as always, Luna finishes the joint with the young Roadie named Todd. Accepting his promises to keep an ear out for a bassist for her.

--------------------------------------------------

"LOVERRRRR!!" Luna coos upon seeing Colson.

"You're such a fucking cunt. Where you been?" He asks as he spins her around and wraps his arms around her chest from behind. Through her loose T, he plays with the tape over her nipples as he tongues around her ear.

Pulling away with a giggle, Luna turns around. Grinning as she taunts him.

🎶Everyday I love you Just a little bit more A little bit more A little bit more Everyday I love you Just a little bit more But You're still Fucking insane🎶

She sings to him laughing as she changes lyrics to the Sublime song.

Colson's blue eyes brighten as he lifts her up. Complying, she wraps her legs around his rarely clothed body.

"We should cover that!!" He states excitedly.

Luna scoffs as she agrees. Singing that it makes total sense because Colson is a jealous psycho who sees red.

"Bitch, you're just as jealous. So, shut the fuck up." He laughs, kissing her again.

🎶Let me find a secret LOVER... I'll rip off your fucking head🎶

Luna sings, still making up her own lyrics to Colson laughter. Asking how she's doing with the new song, she hops off of him. Grabbing her phone, she calls over Sam and Baze. Colson wrapping himself around her from behind again.

"Fucking Patti booked me on Ellen." Luna finally informs Sam. "I gotta new song because I don't wanna keep promoting the hate of THAT Type. I've pretty much got it laid down but I need to hear it live. You're coming with me, Right?" She asks to Sam's nod. Looking at Baze, Luna continues. "You mind listening to what I've got and maybe running it with me, please?"

"No problem, Loons." Baze agrees.

Luna rests herself into Colson's hold as she hits play on her phone. The hard/soft punk tune coming through her phone's speakers.

The three of them knocking their heads through the song. Feeling it. They all burst out with questions once it's finished.

Sam first, "You wanna play THAT on daytime TV??" Thinking about the lyrics.

Baze standing back with a confused look, "That's all YOU??" He asks, the producer in him impressed as hell.

Colson squeezing her insides out from behind with a "Wanna do it after this?" in her ear.

Yes. Yes. And definitely, YES. Are her answers.

Sam climbs behind Rook's kit as Baze grabs his bass and Luna uses Colson's electric. They play around a bit as Sam and Baze learn the notes. Feeling confident Luna steps up to the mic giving it a go.

Colson watches as they rip through the song. The vibe reminding him the sound coming out of Seattle in the early 90's. Luna's voice lacing around certain lyrics while blasting others. She has a clear concise message.

"That was fucking SICK!!" He exclaims, clapping.

"Yo!! Hard as shit." Rook agrees, from behind Colson.

He had come up once he heard them begin to play. Wondering who the fuck was on his drums.

"Yeah?" Luna asks.

"What's it for?" Rook asks her.

Luna explains Ellen as Rook nods his head in understanding. Commenting how he Respects Luna's Balls. They exchange a knowing look. Out of all The Boys, Rook is who Luna clicked with first. Always remaining her favorite, they have their own friendship aside from Colson.

"I need a fucking bassist." Luna complains as she sets the guitar down.

"I know a guy. He's right in NY too." Sam says as she steps out from behind the drums.

They sit on the edge of the Stage together. Baze joining them as Rook and Colson hop up too.

"Yeah?" Luna asks. "Can you give him a call?"

Sam agrees as the rest of The Band comes in. Luna moving SideStage as they run a light rehearsal. Sam heading out back to see about a bassist.

Grabbing her laptop, she goes through the property listings Monica sent her. There's both studios and brownstones as Luna asked. Flipping through the pictures and layouts, she finds a five bedroom in Brooklyn Heights that she likes and a simple studio in Dumbo. No office/recording spot yet though.

Ashleigh making her way to the stage. She sits with Luna listening to The Boys. Noticing what Luna's looking at she asks about the listings.

"We all need a place in The City..." Luna explains. "Oh! You would know... Can he come with me Tuesday? I want him to look at a couple places with me."

Ashleigh looks in her phone at her calender. Colson has a show in Boise that night. Idaho to NY is a 6hr flight. It won't work.

"Sorry, Loons." Ashleigh says to her disappointment.

Luna shrugs with a sigh as she emails Monica back regarding the listings.

-------------------------------------------------

Colson locks the door of the small bathroom behind them. He's been staring at Luna's sideboob since he touched her naked breasts.

Lifting her onto the sink, her pulls her shirt off. Finally seeing the tape X'd across her nipples.

"New bra?" He snickers as he runs tongue along the delicate skin of the bottom of her breast.

"Mmmm... The easier for you to lick them My Dear." She responds in a husky voice.

After he's unbuttoned her jeans, she hops down. Wiggling out of them and her panties as he drops his own pants.

Luna bends over the sink. Catching Colson brilliant blue eyes.

"Not yet..." He says with a playful smile.

Lifting her back up onto the sink, he spreads her legs as he slowly licks her bare pussy. Circling around her clit with his tongue. He's soft and delicate. For now.

Luna gasps when he pushes his middle finger inside of her. Continuing to suck and play around with his tongue.

"Oh FUCK....he wasn't lying!!" Luna's mind explodes, remembering Colson's Snap from earlier.

Leaned against the mirror, she arches her back in pleasure. Shifting her hips, fully enjoying his mouth exploring her magical cave.

Luna doesn't last long. With her legs wrapped around Colson's head, she cums all over his face and chin. Licking it off of him to his delight.

"You're such a dirty girl." He tells her, always intrigued by their sexual antics.

Luna pushes him off of her. Hopping back off the sink, she pushes him against the wall. Staring into his tantalizing eyes as as she slowly makes her naked body to her knees.

Colson groans out in pleasure as she licks around the base of his cock. Swirling her tongue around it to the top. Holding him firm, she slowly draws her tongue around his head before flattening her it and sliding him deep inside her throat.

Colson twists his fingers in her long blonde hair as he leans his head back. Reveling in the warmth of her mouth. Flicking her wrist around his shaft with one hand while playing with his balls in the other, Luna steadily sucks Colson cock. Letting the tip of his dick bump the far back of her deep throat.

"FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!" Colson thinks as he explodes in Luna's mouth. Wanting it to be inside her sweet pussy insisted.

Kissing his thighs on her way up, after he's wiped her mouth. Wrapping her arms around his waist, Luna leans up for a kiss.

Grabbing the back of her head and her bare ass, Colson kisses Luna intensely. Their juices mixing together in their mouths.

"You like, BABY?" She asks with a cocked eye, knowing what's she's potentially starting.

"It's Baby now?" He eyeballs her with his response.

"It's whatever the fuck you want... You trust me?" She asks, leaning back now as she holds on and looks up at him.

"I've told you..." He starts.

"Shut the fuck up. You trust me?" She interrupts him.

Colson nods.

"Then just wait... It'll all make sense." Luna smiles sweetly before pecking his lips. "I love you."

"I swear she's more complicated than I am..." Colson thinks as they get dressed. He can't help but be intrigued by Luna. Always.

Regardless, he scoops her up again. Legs back around his waist. Kissing each other lovingly. One Look exchanged.

Unlocking the bathroom, they walk out satisfied. One confused but both satisfied.

--------------------------------------------------

The Show at Myth Live is raw.

The Band playing perfectly as Colson performs. Jumping all over The Stage, talking to his fans, diving into the adoring crowd.

Luna comes out for Bad Things. Colson kisses her giggles once they finish. She hypes and Thanks the audience before walking OffStage. Luna sharing a bottle and joints with both Ashleigh and Sam as they watch.

It's a full 27 song setlist, sticking closely to the formula of previous shows on the tour. Colson running through El Diablo twice and encoring Sail.

Gripping Luna's hand as he drags her off to the dressing room as always.

--------------------------------------------------

The scene in Colson's dressing room isn't much different then any other night since he performed at Nightingale.

With a bottle, multiple joints, love chatter and fucking, Colson unwinds.

Deciding to stick in the venue instead of going out exploring. They're off tomorrow and would rather travel through the night.

Standing in the middle of the room, just them two, Colson pulls Luna into him.

"I love you, Kitten." His deep voice tells every organ in her body.

Squeezing him tightly, she burrows her face in her safe spot in his chest.

I love you." She coos. "More than you'll ever know."

There's a beautiful silence between Luna and Colson. A million things being said with no words. Only breathing and heartbeats.

-------------------------------------------------

Catching up with everyone BackStage, Colson and Luna both grab a beer. Colson's called over by Baze as Ashleigh pulls on Luna's arm.

"I need your help..." She starts off.

"What's up?" Luna asks after a swig.

"We got that MA merch. He's gotta sign cards and hoodies... You think you can help me keep him focused?" She asked with a concerned look.

"Fuck, yeah. You got the list? We got cards?" Luna asks.

"Yeah! Check these out! Ashleigh says relieved. Pulling a card off her clipboard, she finds herself more and more appreciative of Luna's help and presence.

Luna takes one. Looking it over, the inside is blank.

"That jawns sick!!" Luna exclaims in approval to Ashleigh's content. "What's going on the inside?"

"I don't know...." Ashleigh trails off. "I wanted your opinion." She answers honestly.

Luna thinks for a minute. It has to be personal but, legally Monica has taught her to choose her words wisely and never admit fault. Plus, it's gotta keep Colson's attention.

"What do you think about addressing them individually, but with a simple Thinking of You and his signature?" Luna asks.

Ashleigh likes the idea but is unsure how they'll keep everything in order. Thinking for a moment again, Luna suggests taking control of the envelopes.

"Lemme get a copy of the mailing list. I'll have him start them tonight, and keep them in order so tomorrow he can bang out the hoodies and we'll just go in a line... You know what I mean?" Luna asks.

Ashleigh doesn't but she trusts Luna. Agreeing to meet up with her and Colson, Ashleigh grabs what they need as Luna looks for her Lover.

--------------------------------------------------

Colson isn't pleased, he hates THAT Night. He's only been OffStage for an hour or b so and wants to hang out with his Boys.

"So hang out with your Boys. Just pay the fuck attention. Because you're gonna either do part of it tonight or all of it on your day off." Luna states as a of matter of facts.

Knowing she's right and ALWAYS putting his EstFam first, Colson pops open a black pen. "It's the least I can do...." I thinks. Thankful everyone was Okay that night.

Bullshitting with Luna, Ashleigh, Sam and The Boys, he tries not to dwell too hard on how bad it could've been for everyone.

Not being able to fully hide from the pain, Colson addresses each envelope with his fan's name. Choosing whatever The Fuck he'd like to say to them himself, he signs each card personally. Passing them to Luna so she can keep them in order.

"He may be an Asshole.... But he is the sweetest Asshole I know. And my fucking Lover." Luna can't help but think. Falling more in love with him as she watches him put whole his heart into each note.

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To be continued.....

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sauveteen · 6 years

Text

like this | s.m

note: so i had this idea, and it isn't really a one shot, just a... concept? if enough people like it/are intrigued i might turn it into a series of slow burn shawn and a soft boy in love. so please lmk if you'd like that! (:

if u like it, just reply & i'll add you to a taglist for chapters wayyy longer than this thingy

“Wha’ d’you mean Aayat likes Noémie?”

“What I just said,” Calum presses, “Aayat. Likes. Noémie. Do I need to spell it out for you? Like in those weddings, all glittery and big on a styrofoam heart? AAYAT WEDS NOÉMIE. SHAWN GETS ROYALLY FUCKED.”

“Shut up,” Shawn seethes, waving his hand around to dismiss his friend, “God, just fucking shut up, Calum.”

“Don't shoot the messenger, dude.”

“M’about to more than shoot you. M’going to…”

“Yeah, think it over,” Calum smirks, bringing his cigarette to his lips, “Your preferred mode of murder is probably tickling. Pussy.”

When Shawn smacks Calum on the head, he simply chuckles, taking a long drag and blowing the smoke back into Shawn's face, who makes a face and leans away, too wasted to do anything else. He feels faint, and not the I'm-drunk-off-my-ass kind, but the numb kind. Like that feeling you get when you know something has gone terribly wrong, and you know there's absolutely nothing you can do about it. Nada. Zilch. Probably mourn, though, like Shawn currently is. And then decide to shoot the messenger even further, also like Shawn currently is.

“S’you're telling me..,” Bringing a hand up to his head, he runs a hand through his hair, pushing the unruly curls away from his face. He bites into his bottom lip, really craving another bottle of beer as he says, ��That Aayat likes Noémie.”

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” Calum mumbles, shaking his head, already regretting being the one who had to bring this up to him. All of his and Shawn’s friends had had a lengthy debate (sans Shawn, of course) about who would be the one to bite the bullet and just tell it to Shawn like it is. Calum, like the dumbass he is, had volunteered. Volunteered. The others weren't willing to do it even when threatened with a stick up their ass. “Yes, Shawn. The girl you're in love with likes your best friend. There, I said it.”

“Uhh..” Shawn scrunches his face, scoffing, “I'm not in love with her?”

“Sure, dude, whatever you say.”

“I am not in love with her. I'm not. I just… think she's cute. But I'm not in love with her.”

“Maybe saying it enough times will help you fool yourself, huh? Heard that's good strategy.”

“Oh my God, Cal,” Shawn’s head drops to his propped up hands as he mumbles into his palms, “Am I in love with her?”

“Would you get her name tattooed on your right ass cheek?”

Shawn lifts his head to give Calum a weird look, like this isn't something they've discussed before. Calum doesn't think Shawn remembers, though, because he was black out drunk when the gang had sat around a patio table and given their two cents about What is Love? Not like any of them had any sort of worthy experience, whatsoever, but it was fun while it lasted. Shawn's contribution had been on the wilder side, proudly claiming, ‘If I fall in love, I'll get her name tattooed on both ass cheeks.’ Calum’s glad he refrained from drinking that night.

“Would you?”

“No?” Shawn sounds unsure, eyebrows furrowed.

“Then you're not in love,” Comes Calum’s simple reply. He taps his cigarette on the lip of the ashtray, watching the gears slowly turn in his friend's head. He knows he should've broken the news at a better time — perhaps a time when Shawn hadn't downed two glasses of vodka and God knows how many bottles of beers, a time when he at least had some of his mental faculties together. Thing is, though, that Calum is shit with emotions. Had he managed to catch Shawn at just the perfect time and made him cry — which he really, really can't put past Shawn — then he would've also done the shittiest job at consoling his friend.

Now, however, Shawn is barely conscious. Some of his words slur together when he talks, cheeks and the tip of his nose rosy and warm. His actions are delayed, soft, like you're looking at him through a vaseline covered screen. The realisation of what Calum’s telling him takes a while to settle in, and even then, he doesn't really grasp the concept in all its shitty, fucked up glory.

“And Aayat wants me to help her win over Noémie?” Shawn echoes what Calum had told him earlier, blinking dazedly to keep his eyes open.

“And Aayat wants you to help her win over Noémie,” Calum nods, confirming his worst suspicions, "She says no one knows Noémie better than you."

“S’fucked up, man,” Shawn mutters, running a hand over his face. He rubs his eyes while softly shaking his head, repeating, “S’fucked up. S’all fucked up.”

“I mean… it could be worse?”

Shawn's eyes fly up to meet Calum’s at a speed he didn't know was possible, squinted in accusation, “How could it be worse? Lit-eral-lly my worst case scenario. Sure, s’also the fear that I'm way out of her league… but this?” His head tilts to the side, helpless gaze focused on nowhere in particular, “Fuck, dude."

"Maybe this is for the best the best. You could try to.. woo her in the process?"

"Woo her with what? My lanky ass body and average personality? M'only defining character trait s'that I can whistle through my ears. And then there's Noémie... fuck. Mie's just.... Mie. I stand zero chance next to her?"

“I don't think you should be comparing yourself to your best friend. Kinda unhealthy.”

“And I don't care you what you think!” Shawn screeches, wagging his finger in Calum’s face, “I really don't. You've got me fucked up real good here, bud-die. Now shut up.”

“But like…”

“Wha’ d’you not get about.. shutting up?” Shawn mutters, “It's literally so easy. You just.. don't talk.”

“Shawn,” Calum exhales heavily through his nose, dropping his cigarette butt to the ground and crushing it under his shoe, “I know this sucks, but chill the fuck out for a second and listen to me. There's no point wailing like a baby if you won't even remember this tomorrow morning.”

“Morning,” Shawn echoes, muttering to himself, “I am mourning.”

“No — morning. Like sunrise, morning. Like AM morning.”

“Yeah, AM,” Shawn muses, “Aayat Mendes.”

“Sometimes I wonder why I bother,” Calum mumbles, and then reminds himself why. He bothers because he loves his friends, and he loves Shawn, and if ever found himself in a situation like this, he'd want his friends to try and console him. The only difference would be the fact that his friends are good at consoling, unlike Calum, who wants to punch anyone who shows any sort of emotion in the throat.

Sometimes he thinks his violent tendencies stem from being around a bunch of meatheads. And then he reminds himself that he's also around Aayat and Shawn just as often, and if their soft asses can't influence him, then nothing can.

“Hey, you,” Calum leans over the table, putting a pause in Shawn's mumbling by softly poking him in the chest, “Now you listen to me.”

Shawn gives him a half hearted hum in reply, pretending to focus his gaze on his friend while his mind wanders. Makes up scenarios. He almost throws up when a picture of Aayat and Noémie holding hands is conjured up in his head. Holding hands — not even kissing, or making out, or sleeping together — just holding hands like two middle schoolers too afraid to do anything else. Or two people in love — that makes Shawn's stomach turn. So yeah, perhaps he is a goner. Perhaps he will die alone with no one no to care for him. Perhaps Calum is shouting in his face right now, and so he really should try to focus.

“....And so what if they're sleeping together, you know? Fucking doesn't equal feelings, believe me—”

The scream that leaves Shawn's lips then has Calum tumbling off his lawn chair, chin hitting the edge of the patio table in the process. His body hits the ground with a loud thud, and groaning, he makes absolutely no effort to get back up.

Shawn's head peeks under the table, eyebrows on the top of his face. Pink, swollen lips parted in surprise. His grip on the table is strong, knuckles turning white in the process as he screeches, “They're also fucking?!”

“I thought you knew that!”

“Does my reaction make you think I knew that!” Shawn all but roars, nudging Calum’s shin with his pointy shoe.

“Everybody fucking knew!”

“Fuck this shit, Calum,” Shawn shakes his head, holding his hand out to help him up, “Fuck everything. And fuck Aayat.”

“Oh, we all know you want to.”

Shawn lets Calum’s hand go and watches his head hit the ground again, a loud shout of protest following soon after, “Dude, fuck you too!”

“Life already has.”

if you're confused please read this!

#shawn #fluff #imagine #mendes #shawnmendes #blurb #angst #shawn mendes imagine #drunk shawn

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