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iiovserii · 11 months

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Daddy’s Home — Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

summary: Miguel didn’t get to be picky when it came to choosing his new, forever home, as long as he was in Gabriella’s arms again. Even if it meant sharing her with you. (3.1k Words) Based on this prompt

warnings: angst, slight smut, violence (including the disposal of a body), emotional manipulation, toxic relationship

authors note: this was inspired by one of my prompts from around a week ago and i’ve been holding onto this bad boy for about a week considering it’s my first ever fanfic i’ve ever wrote..i just wanted it to be perfect 😭 in my prompt i said something about the reader being sweet but she’s a lot more firey in this because the real miguel was an asshole who was never home..but i hope you all enjoy anyways! i was hoping to create this into series so if you want to be added to the taglist let me know 💖 i’ve also added the translation at the end just because 🤷‍♀️

Link to the Ao3 ver instead!

Miguel didn’t get to be picky when it came to choosing his new, forever home, as long as he was in Gabriella’s arms again, even if it meant sharing her with you. You were littered through Gabriella’s file, a pretty hard person to miss considering the fact that you were there for every single moment of her life—the sweet cooing voice in each video of her as a baby, the delicate hands that held the small, chubby fingers as she took her first steps, and the laughter that arose from behind the camera as Gabriella pulled a funny face.

This Gabriella was the perfect fit, however perfect came with a mother that was alive and well. It was a package deal in this universe, a love intertwined with filial devotion that Miguel would just have to deal with.

But he couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy that was buried deep in his chest, even as he watched a memory of Gabriella’s first goal (a favorite of his), which was originally only celebrated by him, now being replaced by Gabriella shrieking excitedly as she ran up to her mother, throwing her arms around you in triumph.

Moments like these, so special for his little girl, fueled his deep hatred towards you. It was watching these memories where Miguel genuinely wondered if he was even present in this universe. Nevertheless, staring down at his own lifeless body made him realize just how right he was.

What was he doing outside alone, in a dark alleyway on a Friday night anyway? Why wasn’t he home with his daughter, with his wife?

Those were the thoughts that ran through his mind as he began disposing of the body—a man too selfish and weak to even protect his precious daughter. In the end, he got what was coming to him, or so he told himself to keep from feeling guilty.

He didn’t care for details, knowing he was here now to pick up the pieces of a broken family and restore it to something he could finally have a second chance with. He snapped out of his thoughts as he heard the jingle of a ringtone coming from his new phone. Swiping the phone from his pocket, he didn’t even stop to waver whether or not he should answer as he saw your name flash on the screen, rolling his eyes as he pressed accept. He pulled the device up to his ear, resting it on his shoulder and cheek as he listened to the sound of your voice.

The first thing he noticed was how tired you sounded—were you waiting for him to return home? He could imagine you laid on the sofa, eyes nervously glancing up at the clock at any given moment, a silly housewife awaiting her husband. He almost felt bad for you; it was pathetic that you would really allow yourself and Gabriella to live like that, always waiting.

He ended the call swiftly, making up some stupid excuse about how he caught up with work and would be arriving shortly. Pretty much in character for the man he just suffocated with his own hands, not raising any suspicion for you as he heard the sleepy yawn telling him that you’d be asleep by the time he got back.

However, despite the dark act he had just committed, he was willing to go to great lengths to win Gabriella's heart again. If putting this ring on his finger and pretending that the woman on the other end of the phone was his wife would grant him another chance with her, then so be it.

He wouldn’t mind playing house with you, as long as he was able to hold his daughter in his arms once more.

He felt disgusted even calling you 'wife', but for Gabriella's sake, he knew he needed to play along. It wasn't like it mattered anyway since your daughter worshipped you so much more than him.

He didn’t need you, he knew that.

However the thought of Gabriella’s eyes as they lit up when you walk in the room seemed to tell him otherwise. She needed you.

He hated the way the house was never quiet, there was always something happening.

You were making dinner? There had to be music in the background as you traveled around the kitchen, humming and singing along to whatever tune was playing on the speaker. That soft velvety voice seemed to flow through the house, and it killed him inside that he wanted to hear more of you.

Gabriella was playing outside? Well you were playing outside as well, it wasn’t like you had a choice, having being pulled away from whatever you were doing to entertain the small girl.

You had everything running like clockwork—cooking dinner while managing homework and playing with Gabriella at the same time—all without seemingly breaking any sweat or becoming frustrated.

Miguel couldn't help but admire you for being able to handle everything so seamlessly. But deep down, he still felt resentment towards you for taking over what should have been his role as the sole parent of their child.

He’d notice small things, like the way your hands flew to your face when you were shocked, it was sweet at first, until he realised Gabriella also did the same, she never did that before. He had noticed it one morning when he stood in the doorway of Gabie’s room, not trying to make his presence known as he watched the two of you play, and the scowl on his face didn’t go unnoticed as you furrowed your eyebrows at him, wondering what he looking at so intensely.

It took him the first couple of weeks to get used to your laugh, you were always laughing. It seemed to rub off on Gabriella as well, he didn’t think he’d ever seen her laugh this much, even before.

Miguel tried his best to ignore the feelings that arose in him at the sight of you playing with Gabriella, and sometimes even joined the two of you whilst you played your games. He couldn't help but feel envious of how happy the two of you looked together, reminding him of moments he could have had if only things had gone differently.

Despite these feelings, it wasn't long before Miguel began to see a different side of you. A side that made him realise why Gabriella adored you so much.

One day while cooking dinner, he noticed your eyes lighting up as Gabriella told a story about her day at school. You were so invested in her words that for once he felt like an outsider looking into your world.

He also witnessed moments when Gabriella fell ill and how tirelessly you took care of her; staying up all night by her bedside until she fell asleep or gently rubbing Vicks on her chest when she was coughing painfully.

It was moments like these when Miguel started to question his assumptions about you and wondered whether maybe—just maybe—he'd been too quick to judge.

But as much as Miguel tried to ignore it, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had buried something deep inside him. He couldn't let go of the resentment he felt towards you for replacing his role.

He started focusing on every little mistake you made, criticising your cooking and getting angry when things didn't go his way. Every time you laughed or smiled at Gabriella, it sent a pang of jealousy straight through him.

"She's too attached to you," he huffed, standing beside the bathroom counter as you both prepared for bed, "you can't even leave the room, and she's already wondering when you'll be back again."

"Well, maybe if you were around more often, she wouldn't be so reliant on me," you retorted, the soft glow of the bathroom lights casting shadows on your face, your voice laced with frustration.

His eyes narrowed as he leaned in, reaching for his toothbrush, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, of course, it's all my fault. Because you're just the perfect parent, aren't you? Always there, always available."

"You know what, maybe if you actually made an effort instead of criticizing me all the time, you'd see the bond we have is because I've been there for her when you weren't!" you retorted, your voice rising, the sound echoing against the tiled walls.

His tone grew more defensive. "I never said I was perfect, but at least I'm trying now. You could at least acknowledge that."

A mirthless smile crossed your face as you leaned against the bathroom counter, facing each other in the confined space.

"Acknowledging your half-hearted attempts doesn't erase the damage done, Miguel. It takes more than just physical presence to be a real parent."

The tension hung heavy in the air, the scent of toothpaste mingling with their argument, as the bickering between husband and wife intensified. The wounds of the past were reopened, and neither was willing to back down or see the other's perspective.

As the heated exchange reached its peak, you turned on your heels, ready to storm off, your frustration boiling over. But just as you took a step away, Miguel's hand shot out, firmly gripping your arm. The air tightened between you, the coolness of the bathroom tiles beneath your feet.

The grip on your arm only tightened, his expression a mixture of frustration and a confused longing. "You don't speak to me like that," Miguel growled, his voice firm. "You are my wife, act like it."

“You are my husband, I expect the same from you,” you snapped back, your voice dripping with defiance, refusing to back down as you swatted away his hand. “And—I will speak to you however I want.” The sound of running water from the faucet filled the silence.

A flicker of amusement crossed Miguel's face, his eyes tracing your determined form. He had underestimated your strength, your fiery spirit. Despite the frustration that lingered between them, a newfound admiration stirred within him.

"Si supiera que eras tan molesto, te habría dejado hace mucho tiempo, Muñeca," he mused, his tone tinged with a mix of fascination and curiosity, the steam from the shower filling the bathroom. “Las cosas que haría para callar esa boca tan bonita tuya.”

The intensity of the moment had rendered you momentarily speechless, steam rising in the bathroom as the warm air surrounded you both. But you managed to find your voice, albeit in a whisper, the sound barely audible over the running water.

"Now that's not fair," you murmured, the dampness of the bathroom clinging to your skin, your voice filled with a mixture of frustration and longing. "You know I don't understand what you're saying..”

A slow, mischievous smile curled at the corners of Miguel's lips, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief as he leaned in closer, the scent of shampoo and desire filling the air. And as your lips lingered so close, the unspoken desires between you both grew stronger.

“Good.”

The man currently asleep beside you, was not, to absolute certainty, your husband.

His features held a resemblance to the man you once knew, but there was a striking difference—an unfamiliar intensity in his eyes, he looked at you like he didn’t know you.

His hair fell differently, it looked more clean compared to the tousled mess due to work. You would've sworn he had a small crease in the corner of his eyebrow, but then it disappeared along with the mole on the side of his neck.

He smelled of citrus and leather before, a smell that made you turn when he walked into the room—you knew that smell more than you knew yourself.

Instead now, all you could smell was warm spice and amber. It almost made you smile when you smelt it on him as he walked past you that morning, a couple of weeks ago, until you realised that was the fragrance you got him last Christmas, the fragrance he said he hated and never wore.

The bed, too, felt subtly different beneath your weight, as if it dipped just slightly more than it used to.

It made you feel like your heart was tearing apart. On one hand, he was paying more attention to Gabriella, and she was thriving because of it. He took her to all the soccer practices, played with her and held her so tight that you’d think she’d pop.

You’ve never seen her so happy.

On the other hand, he was hardly in your presence. He hadn’t touched you for weeks, not even a kiss. The most he had done was argue with you, mostly about how close you and Gabriella was.

However, one thing that you couldn’t help but notice was the dark look in his eyes every-time Gabriella’s attention shifted toward you.

He was hardly around before, always at work, the gym or drinking with his co-workers at the bar across from town.

Nowadays it was hard for him to leave you and Gabriella alone.

Not to mention, it was like he grew twice in size. His shoulder looked broader, the veins in his arms popped, more defined. He could basically pick up your seven year old like a feather. Had he been working out more?

You shift on your pillow, eyes glancing down at his heaving chest as he slept. The only time he didn’t look so tense recently was when he was asleep. So peaceful.

You couldn’t help but reach out and dance one of your fingers on the side of his torso, quietly humming some annoying tune that wouldn’t leave your mind that morning.

"What are you doing, Gatita?" he quipped, unable to suppress a soft chuckle that escaped his lips, snapping you out of your thoughts and making you squeak.

As you tried to pull your hand away, Miguel quickly caught it in mid-air, his touch exerting a gentle but firm hold. His finger lightly pressed into your palm, a subtle reminder of his presence and it was almost like he was showing his desire to keep you near.

“What, don't you like touching your husband?" he playfully remarked, mischief dancing in his eyes. His gaze deliberately traveled down your body, as if savoring the sight before him.

Rolling your eyes and pouting, you couldn't resist the urge to make a bratty remark. "Well, it's not exactly enjoyable when the husband is such a pain in the ass." you huffed, your tone laced with a hint of childish defiance.

Feeling his firm hold on your hand, you let out a whine at the tightness. It was as if he was purposely trying to keep you close, unwilling to let you slip away. The intensity of his grip only fueled your frustration.

That’s an air between the two of you. You just couldn’t put your finger on it. The way you desperately try to search in his eyes for something, anything, that would tell you that the man you’re looking at, is, really your husband. The man you’ve spent nearly eight years with.

It’s almost like he’s trying to breathe you in, the way he looks like he’s trying to piece together your features, it makes you wonder if he even knows a thing about you.

The weight of the impending moment made you fidget, your fingers nervously playing with the edge of the bedsheet. You were acutely aware of the lingering tension between you and Miguel, and you attempt to find a way to wiggle your way out of his grasp.

A timid sigh escaped your lips, as a sense of unease settled upon your shoulders. "Gabriella will be waking up soon," you whispered, your voice tinged with a flicker of concern.

A cruel smirk played at the corner of his lips as he leaned in closer, invading your personal space. "Is my little wife hiding from me?" he sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm and mockery. “You know she’s not getting up for at least another hour.”

Your eyes darted nervously between him and the door, your mind already jumping to potential escape routes. You couldn't help but wonder if he was purposefully trying to push your buttons with his words.

"I just don't want her to-," you began to stutter, but were cut short as Miguel's grip tightened further on your hand. "Don't worry about Gabriella," he whispered into your ear, his breath hot against the nape of your neck. “She’ll be fine.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the sensation; it stirred something within you that you couldn’t quite explain. Within the eight years of your marriage, he had never made the room feel so..heated.

You gasped at the sensation of his lips pressing into your neck, sending shivers down your spine in a wave of desire and guilt. All logic told you that this was wrong, yet there was a part of you that wanted nothing more than to give in to the heat that bubbled within.

As Miguel's kisses grew bolder and more insistent against your skin, you couldn't help but writhe beneath him.

His groan reverberated through your body, stirring something deep within as he whispered against your ear "I know I've been a bad husband," punctuating each with another kiss along the length of your jaw.

"Miguel-" Your voice trailed off into a soft whimper as he shifted so that he was hovering over you, one hand moving to fondle at the curve of your hip while the other tangled itself in your hair.

"But I'm here now," he murmured between kisses before ducking back down to press his lips onto yours once again. The taste of him flooded through you even as he reached up under-shirt slowly caressing and teasing you, making sure not too much display signs of pleasure.

As the heat continued to build between you and Miguel, he began to part your legs, eliciting a soft gasp from deep within as his intent became clear. You felt his lips curl into a knowing smile at your reaction as he watched your mean facade fall away.

"Mmm," he hummed in appreciation as his eyes roamed over every inch of exposed skin. "Looks like my little wife isn't all mouth after all." He teasingly remarked before lowering himself once again so that his tongue could trace patterns along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

The sensation left you moaning softly in pleasure at the skilled touch, completely lost in the moment. It wasn't until Miguel's fingers found their way back up to her hips that you realized just how much control he had over this situation.

"You know what?" He said with a smirk pulling back to look at her face before diving down for another heated kiss "I think maybe have to put you in line more often."

You wouldn’t mind that in the slightest.

eng translation:

1. “Si supiera que eras tan molesto, te habría dejado hace mucho tiempo, Muñeca,” — "If I knew you were so annoying, I would have left you a long time ago, doll."

2. “Las cosas que haría para callar esa boca tan bonita tuya.” — "The things I would do to silence that beautiful mouth of yours."

3. “Gatita” — Kitten

#miguel o’hara au #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x you #my first ever fanfic #hehe hah this took me too long to make..#miguel o’hara x fem reader #miguel o’hara imagine

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mypoisonedvine · 2 years

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𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 (𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗱𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁) || eddie munson x preppy!reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 || when your best friend (who just so happens to also be your ex) steve helps you get together with his new friend eddie, things go a little slower than you expected.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 || almost 12k lol oops

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 || SMUT (18+ only, unprotected sex and oral f receiving), fluff, some pining, very slight angst, somewhat inexperienced eddie, ex-bf!steve but also bff!steve,🍂🍁 fall vibes 🍁🍂, alcohol consumption/mild drunkenness, 'princess' petname

September 1986

“Dude, if you like her, you should just go for it,” Steve insisted.

Eddie chewed the inside of his cheek for a second, staring out at the empty football field before turning to Steve on the bleachers dramatically. “And you’re sure it’s okay? I mean, with you two having gone out—”

“Of course!” Steve shrugged. “She and I have been friends a lot longer than we dated. I mean, that was, what, seven or eight months in sophomore year? It’s been years since then.”

“But you’re still so close,” Eddie noticed.

“Yeah,” Steve agreed, “and actually— it’s perfect! I can help you ask her out!”

“Wait, you mean like, I have a friend who likes you or something?” Eddie wondered, seeming a little suspicious as he turned his head away slightly.

“No, a little smoother than that,” Steve assured, “like a wingman! Like Top Gun!”

Eddie sighed; he almost wished Steve had never seen that movie, now he wouldn’t shut up about it.

“Actually, she already kinda told me she’s into you,” he grinned, and Eddie’s eyes widened.

“Really?”

“Yeah, we were hanging out a few weeks ago and we played that game Fuck Marry Kill?” Steve began, and Eddie nodded. “It was you, John Stamos and Val Kilmer— she said she’d fuck you.”

Eddie gave a sideways frown.

"Dude. Seriously." Steve glared at Eddie's unenthusiastic reaction. "In that line up I was sure she'd kill you. But poor Stamos got the chop instead."

Eddie shrugged.

"Did you miss the part of the story where she said she wants to fuck you?"

But Eddie knew that wasn't what that actually meant. “I guess that’s good, but honestly, I was kind of going for ‘marry’," he admitted.

Steve laughed joyfully as he shoved Eddie’s shoulder. “Didn’t know you were such a romantic!”

“I-I mean, I’ve never had a real girlfriend before,” Eddie replied, “so I hope she wants more than to just, like, fool around. Not that I would say no to that!”

“Of course,” Steve nodded, “totally get you— I’m the same way, you know, tired of all the one-night stands.”

Yeah, except you have an endless supply and I’ve had four, Eddie thought.

“If you want, I could talk to her for you,” Steve suggested, “and get the scoop— see if she’d be interested. That way you know before you go through all the trouble of actually asking her.”

“Okay— but keep it subtle! I don’t want her to know I’ve got a crush unless it’s reciprocated.”

Steve nodded confidently. “You got it, Munson. I can be stealthy. Like a ninja.”

You were sitting on the floor throwing Sour Patch Kids, watching Steve open his mouth wide and lean to try to catch them. He got five in a row, before you threw one too much to the side and he had to dive so far that he fell on his side onto the carpet; you both laughed with your mouths full, and he kicked you by sliding his foot out over the carpet. You groaned and kicked him back, until you two were having a shoe war on the rug: his sneakers versus your loafers.

After the fight and giggles died down, a quick silence fell before it was broken. “So,” Steve said suddenly, “it’s time for me to ask my favorite question…”

“Oh god,” you rolled your eyes. “Time for the third degree.”

“Seeing anybody lately?” he grinned.

“I mean… I dunno,” you shrugged. “A few dates here and there, but nobody interesting.”

“Interesting?” he pressed. “You want an interesting guy to go out with, then?”

“What’s with all the sudden interest, Harrington?” you returned with a smirk; you only called him that when you were teasing him.

“I’m always asking about your dates,” he corrected.

“Yeah, ‘cause you’re nosy,” you scoffed.

“I just thought maybe we could figure out who you should be going out with."

“Maybe I should be single for a while,” you offered instead— not because you actually thought so, but because you wanted to figure out why he was so insistent on getting you a date.

“No, see, ‘cause this is the perfect time for a new squeeze,” he assured, “you know— fall’s just started, it’s getting chilly out, leaves are turning…”

You sighed dreamily, glancing out his bedroom window at the orange and brown leaves, rustling with the breeze that you just knew was blowing in a cold front from out East.

“Don’t you just wanna cuddle up with somebody this time of year?” Steve hummed, tensing up his shoulders under his soft Lacoste sweater.

“Yeah, alright,” you agreed, “I was thinking I should get a new boyfriend for the fall. I’m guessing based on your general shiftiness that you have someone in mind?”

Steve coughed and looked away. “I mean— I just had a couple ideas.”

“Such as…?”

He thought for a second, biting his lip. “Uh, there’s Joey Shelley?”

You frowned. “He’s cute, I guess, but he’s sorta… dull?”

“Okay, then— Keith Bowen’s fun,” Steve noticed.

“Yeah, he is,” you agreed, “but didn’t you go out with his sister for a while?”

“So?” he shrugged.

“Isn’t that, like, incest?” you shuddered.

Steve wrinkled his eyebrows together. “Um… no?”

“Whatever, it’s weird,” you decided. “And I dunno… he’s not really my type.”

“He’s exactly your type!” Steve scoffed. “If not him then that Ryan guy you were checking out at the theater last week.”

“I wasn’t checking him out, I was trying to figure out where he got his jeans,” you explained.

“Why?”

“Doesn’t matter,” you hummed, hoping to avoid explaining further since the real answer was that you were already planning Steve’s Christmas present.

“You don’t like any of my suggestions,” he noticed.

“It’s not that! I just— all those guys are just like the guys I always go out with,” you clarified with a sigh.

“What kind of guys do you always go out with?” Steve wondered.

“You know— preppy guys! Guys like— well, guys like you, actually,” you snorted. “I mean, you old money boys are fun for a while, but…”

“But you want something new,” he suggested, surprisingly unoffended by your diss on his fellow preps (though it couldn’t be that hard of a critique coming from a preppy girl yourself), “I get it. Wanna mix it up.”

You shrugged. “I mean, maybe I should.”

“Did you talk to her?” Eddie asked excitedly as he leaned in closer to Steve, who leaned back— Eddie wasn’t so good with the ‘personal space’ thing sometimes.

“Yeah,” Steve promised.

“Will she go out with me?”

“Woah, slow down,” Steve frowned, “I thought you wanted subtle— was I supposed to ask her out for you?”

“No,” Eddie sighed, “that would’ve made it easier but— no, it’s tacky. But did she say if she would go out with me? If I asked?”

“You didn’t come up,” Steve explained, reacting to Eddie’s disappointed expression by adding: “by name! But I think she’d be into it if you asked her.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, half-frowning. “You think? So, what, she might turn me down and then I look like an idiot?”

“Munson, to be honest,” Steve sighed, “I didn’t think looking like an idiot bothered you that much.”

Eddie gave Steve a look; Steve returned by motioning his head towards Eddie’s Hellfire shirt. Eddie, staring down at his outfit, wore an offended grimace when he met Steve’s gaze again. “Hey!” he yelped sharply. “I made this myself!”

“Exactly,” Steve nodded.

“Whatever,” Eddie scoffed, crossing his arms defensively, “this is different than clothes, anyway. I don’t want her to think that all I want is a date— like, I’m cool just being friends, too. But there’s that thing where, if you ask a girl out, you can’t really be friends after that.”

“Uh, I’m her friend,” Steve reminded Eddie, “and I asked her out.”

“In tenth grade!” Eddie added. “You’re smoother than me, anyways, I don’t even know what to say—”

“Just be honest, man,” Steve instructed, “just… tell her you think she’s pretty and you wanna go to a movie or something.” Steve shrugged, as if that required no effort at all, but Eddie was terrified just imagining saying that to you.

“When?” Eddie asked— his first of many issues with that idea. “I don’t have the excuse of seeing her at school anymore, and when school’s over she’s always hanging out with you.”

Steve smiled excitedly, finally finding a part of this plan he knew he could orchestrate. “We’ll find a way,” he promised cryptically.

It was Steve’s idea to go to the record store— he said he wanted the new(ish) Human League album and frankly, you never needed too much of a reason to kill time there. It wasn’t just the music or the respite from the increasing chill outside on your bare legs (maybe the plaid skirt you chose to wear today was a bit out of season, but it was cute), it was the atmosphere itself, it was the smell: old books, new records, paper album sleeves, and whatever rosemary-and-spice candle the owner was burning somewhere.

You flipped through the stacks and scoffed at the cover of The Queen Is Dead. “You should get your own copy of this instead of continuing to indefinitely borrow mine,” you suggested to Steve flatly.

“Is the new Talking Heads album any good?” he asked as he flipped the record around and presented True Stories to you, ignoring what you’d said entirely. Steve Harrington had some of the most impressive selective hearing you’d ever encountered.

Your search wandered out of rock and indie towards pop and synth, where Steve went on a rant you’d heard before about Cyndi Lauper and you pondered trying out Orchestral Manoeuvres in the Dark. Someone coming up to you got your attention, and you heard Steve greet him before you actually recognized him: “Munson, funny seeing you here,” he nodded.

Turning and looking up at him, you found a friendly smile under a nose tinted red from the cold wind outside— even if the leather-jacket-and-denim-vest fusion looked like it would keep him pretty warm out there. He had the latest Alice Cooper album tucked under his arm, and the flamboyant cover caught your attention for a moment before you looked at his face again.

“Oh! Hey Eddie,” you greeted joyfully. “Didn’t expect to find you in the pop section…”

You shot Steve a look as he suddenly stepped backwards and walked further away— leaving you and Eddie essentially by yourselves. Eddie was more Steve’s friend than your own, wouldn’t he want to talk with you? But you couldn’t pay that much attention when you were trying to listen to Eddie’s reply: “Oh, I listen to all kinds of stuff, actually.”

“Well, your merch isn’t so diverse,” you noticed, pointing at his shirt; he looked down at it, like he forgot what he was wearing, and smiled.

“Yeah, this is one of my favorites,” he admitted. “The band and the shirt. My uncle got me this one for my birthday last year, actually.”

“Well, it’s cool,” you decided.

“Oh, thanks,” he hummed. “I-I like your necklace. Definitely classier than a worn-out old shirt.”

“Thank you, I—” you began, though you almost lost your breath when he reached up and touched the jewelry gently. “I… got it on a trip, with my parents? To Australia…”

You felt that shivery butterfly feeling as he toyed with the pearls around your neck. Was he flirting? You hoped so. Truth be told, you never really noticed Eddie when you went to school together; well, actually, a guy like Eddie was sort of impossible not to notice, but really you didn’t do anything past noticing him. Metalhead, D&D geek, flunker— you didn’t know much beyond that, though you didn’t take issue with him like most of the other kids in your social group did. A jock flipped his lunch tray on purpose once and you helped him clean it up, but that was the extent of your interaction.

You didn’t really notice that he was cute until Steve re-introduced you a few months back. It started with thinking that he was funny— in much more of a laughing with than a laughing at way for a guy like him— and then being flattered by his chivalry. It was little things, like opening doors and pulling out chairs, but you admired it. Despite a distinctly modern look, Eddie himself was sort of a classic guy, and that charming smile was timeless.

“Australia? That’s so cool,” he said suddenly. “I’ve never even been south of Kansas.”

“It's beautiful," you agreed. “We swam in the Great Barrier Reef.”

“I, uh, watched something on the Discovery channel about that one time,” he mumbled nervously, obviously aware of how much less interesting of a story that was. “I think they said, like, ten thousand different species live there…”

“That sounds about right,” you smiled, “but I didn’t see them all, obviously.”

The conversation stalled and Eddie rocked nervously on his heels; you examined him for a moment, expecting him to break the silence any second, but he never did.

“Since when are you so shy?” you tilted your head. “You’re normally so… boisterous.”

“Well, honestly?” he breathed. “I get really shy when I, uh, when I’m trying to ask somebody out.”

It still took you a second to get what he meant— you were actually about to ask him who he was going to ask out! Then it clicked, and you smiled. “Oh,” you blinked quickly, “you mean me, right? That’s sweet. What did you have in mind?”

“I-I just figured I’d ask if you wanted to go out sometime,” he decided, “with me.”

You giggled. “I meant for the date.”

“O-oh, yeah,” he sighed, blushing slightly; you liked this version of Eddie, even if you’d been crushing on the one that was so loud and crazy. “There’s a drive-in not too far from here, and I’ve got the van… do you like scary movies?”

“No,” you admitted, stepping up closer to drag your finger over his chest, tracing the letters of his Metallica t-shirt, “but maybe when the scary parts come on, you could protect me?”

You batted your eyelashes up at him, watching his eyes dart all over your face wildly. “Y-yeah, of course,” he promised quickly. “Not to brag or anything, but I’ve watched a lot of scary movies and I’ve survived them all. So you’re safe with me.”

“Good,” you hummed, stepping back and holding onto the strap of your bag that crossed over your chest. “So you can pick me up at seven, then?”

His shock turned quickly into glee. “Yeah! I’ll see you then.”

“S-sorry, I cleaned up as best I could,” Eddie promised nervously as you hopped into the van’s passenger seat.

“Oh, it’s fine!” you dismissed quickly. “Steve’s car is always a mess— not, like, dirty, but messy for sure. Random clothes everywhere.”

“Is Harrington stripping in his car that often?” Eddie wondered, curling his lips slightly.

You shrugged. “Guess so.”

Shuddering, Eddie started the van and began the familiar route to the drive-in. The sun was already setting, and it would be dark enough for the movie soon.

It was a short, but pleasant, ride; you took the time to catch up with Eddie and get to know him a little better, since you didn’t know a lot about him past the obvious.

“I’ve got everything we’ll need tonight,” he promised, “blankets, pillows— you know, to make the back all cozy— candy, snacks— do you like Sour Patch Kids?”

“Only the yellow ones,” you admitted, and he looked at you like you were crazy— but also, like he was into it. “I know!” you yelped. “Steve says it’s proof I’m a monster.”

“Monster? No, you’re perfect,” he said, so casually, like it didn’t make your heart skip, “and those are the only ones I won’t eat, so… guess we’re a perfect match, too.”

Biting your lip, you looked back at the road ahead— Eddie had just flipped on the headlights— and felt the warm, giddy flush crawling up your face. He was a flirt, that’s for sure, even when he had this nervous energy radiating off of him.

After finding the best available spot to park for the movie, Eddie asked you to wait in the passenger while he set up the back; for a few minutes as he unfolded blankets and arranged everything, you toyed with the pearls around your neck (after he complimented them, you kept them on despite changing most of the rest of your outfit, and he noticed, saying they made you look regal, ‘like a princess or something’) and waited.

“Ta-da!” he announced with an excited flourish of his arms and a wide grin when you were finally allowed to look: the back seats had been folded down, the back hatch doors were swung open, and the whole floor was padded with a pallet of blankets and pillows. And, right in the middle, a nice big stash of movie candy classics; including, of course, Sour Patch Kids. “Comfy, right?”

“Only one way to find out,” you smiled as you climbed in. He even held his hand out for you to lift yourself up with to get in the back, even though you definitely didn’t need it.

Once you were comfortable, he laid back on the blanket with you, letting you lean in close even though the movie hadn’t started yet— you could blame it on the chill in the air, but he’d see right through that.

“You really know how to show a girl a good time, huh?” you noticed as you relaxed on the soft padding beneath you.

“I-I try,” he stammered. “It’s been a while since I’ve— m’kinda out of practice, to be honest…”

“Me too,” you admitted.

“What?” he laughed. “Getting taken out doesn’t take any practice! All you’ve gotta do is sit there and look pretty.”

You batted your eyelashes at him; “How am I doing so far?”

He grinned as he tossed a blue Sour Patch Kid into his mouth. “You’re a natural, princess.”

When the movie finally did start, you were already getting that lovely jittery feeling from being so close to him, wondering if he would touch you: hoping he would, actually. Was he the kind of guy who waited until the end to kiss you? Or was he just waiting until everyone else in the surrounding cars was focused enough on the movie above for none of them to look back and see you making out?

But, you actually watched the movie for about the first act, occasionally whispering something to each other or laughing at a campy moment— and, of course, when you jumped at a scare and leaned in to him, he carefully wrapped an arm around you. Even with a relatively conservative touch, he nervously hesitated for a moment, but you found it endearing.

“Thanks for taking me out,” you whispered to him about halfway through the movie, making him look down at you.

“Y-yeah,” he agreed, looking like he was struggling a bit to focus on conversation with your face so close. “Thanks for, um, agreeing to go out with me. I wasn’t sure if you would.”

You grinned, biting your lip. “Actually, I was hoping you’d ask me soon.”

“Really?” Eddie raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t think I was your type.”

“You’re not,” you admitted, “that’s the fun part. Something different.”

“This is different for me, too,” he agreed.

“I’m not like the girls you usually take out?” you assumed.

“In the sense that you exist? Yes,” he nodded, making you laugh almost a bit too loud. “Yes, very different.”

“C’mon, you can’t be that hopeless,” you rolled your eyes.

“This whole town thinks I’m a freak, remember?” he smirked. “Even the women— uh, especially the women.”

“Guess I don’t mind it,” you shrugged. “Maybe I’m a freak, too… once you get to know me.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The tension of the moment lingered for a few moments of silence, neither you nor Eddie looking back at the big screen above you, keeping your eyes trained on each other. For a comment as sexually-charged as what you’d said, you didn’t expect him to follow it up with something so… wholesome. “Can I kiss you?” he asked.

Way too tender, way too sweet for how flirty and heated the conversation that led up to it had become. But it still made your stomach flip, and you nodded, and Eddie carefully cradled your jaw in his hand as he closed the distance and pressed his lips to yours.

It was chaste and patient, at first— gentle movements in time with each other, finding the rhythm, getting familiar with the faint taste of cigarettes under the sweetness of the sour candy you’d shared.

The moment seemed like it could go on forever, like the kiss never needed to end and never needed to progress; the movie played on in the background, but you hardly paid attention, focused instead on the sounds of his breathing picking up, of the blankets shifting beneath you when he moved, of the slightest sigh that fell against your face when you ran a hand up his chest over his shirt.

You opened your mouth wider, tilting your head back, not just allowing but inviting him to kiss you deeper— and he accepted gladly, one hand cradling the back of your head delicately.

His other hand ran down your back, settling at your waist; for a second you thought he might drift even lower and grab your butt. If he did, it would be sort of tacky, but you also wouldn’t mind that much for some reason.

He brushed his fingers over your jaw and tilted his face further, suddenly gaining a little speed and intensity as he tasted you, and you had to resist the urge to moan around his tongue carefully exploring your mouth. Fuck. Heat was already gathering between your legs from a kiss like this. Maybe it was due in part to how long it had been since you’d been taken out properly, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to control yourself if he wanted more.

You gasped softly when his hand slid up your leg. He’s gonna do it— he’s gonna reach up under my skirt and touch me. And I’m gonna let him.

It was impulsive and a little irresponsible, the way you were about to let Eddie Munson finger you right here in the drive-in, but it only turned you on more to think about how naughty it was. You actually wanted him to, you were so needy—

But he stopped moving his hand when he reached your upper thigh. Instead of moving in to carefully toy with the edge of your panties and eventually slip inside, he just started rubbing your thigh with his thumb, occasionally squeezing it as he kissed you.

He broke away from your lips, making you worry it was over, but then he dipped under your face and kissed under your ear. “Oh,” you gasped softly, and you felt him smile— cocky bastard.

Your hips rocked forward a bit, but he didn’t seem to notice: you barely noticed it, since it wasn’t exactly voluntary. Your fingers clutched his shirt, tightening even more when he bit your earlobe lightly just beside the pearl studs.

He was kissing a line down your neck when you shivered briefly. “Are you cold?” he asked.

You didn’t know how to say I was just trying not to rub my pussy on your thigh, sorry, so you simply mumbled, “kinda.”

“Do you want to get under a blanket?” he offered, and that sounded like a great idea and you nodded quickly. He nabbed another folded lump of fabric from behind the driver’s seat, laying it out over the top of you, and you cuddled up closer to him as the weight draped you both. “Do you wanna, uh, kiss some more?”

You giggled a little as you nodded again, reaching up to hold the back of his neck as he kissed you— harder, faster, deeper, getting right to the good stuff. You had to really fight the urge to lift your leg and rest it on his waist, it would feel so good and so… natural, but it would also be, you know, a little slutty. But that was becoming less and less of a concern for you as your need grew stronger and stronger. “Eddie,” you let yourself sigh against his lips, and he tightened his grip on your waist to pull you closer.

“What’s that, princess?” he whispered, egging you on, and you smiled.

“Eddie,” you said again, hearing him growl briefly in pride. He must’ve known that a kiss had never done you in quite like this, never tempted you to do things you didn’t like to do on the first date let alone in a car… in public!

You were so desperate, you could just picture it: him rolling you onto your back, settling himself between your legs and forcing them to part with the width of his hips. Kissing you harder, rutting against you, letting you feel how hard he’d become from holding you. But as much as you tried to encourage him to go a little further— tangling your fingers into his hair, moaning ever-so-softly into the kiss, arching your back (okay, that part wasn’t intentional, but you couldn’t help it)— he never bit the bait. He did literally bite you a few times, once gently on your swollen bottom lip and then twice on your neck later on, but that was as far as he went that night. When the movie ended he watched you climb back up in the front seat and drove you home— he even had the audacity to ask what your favorite part was even though he knew damn well you hadn’t been watching it.

“I liked the part where you licked my ear,” you answered, pretending to be so full of confidence, even though your heart was starting to race again as his own cheeks tinted pink.

“Y-yeah? Good to know,” he nodded as he steered the van around a corner.

There was a longer pause in the conversation as you waited for him to bring up your next date. You made it a whole twenty seconds. “Are you gonna ask me out on another date?” you finally blurted out.

“Now?” he wondered.

“I mean, that’s what you’re supposed to do, I think,” you shrugged. “I guess you could call me tomorrow morning instead, but, you could always get it over with now.”

“You know how this works a little better than I do,” he laughed. “If you’re so eager why don’t you ask me out?”

Your face got warm as he (accurately) called you out for your impatience. “I thought it was supposed to be the other way around,” you mumbled.

“I thought you were a feminist,” he retorted proudly, grinning at you.

“Okay,” you relented, unable to fight down a smile in response to his, “Steve’s throwing a party next weekend. Come with me.”

“I can do that,” he decided with a nod, “as long as I don’t have to dress up like a trust fund kid.”

You snorted. “Definitely not. I like the idea of you sticking out like a sore thumb, actually.”

“Happy to,” he grinned. “When should I pick you up?”

“I have to help Steve set the whole thing up, actually,” you replied, “so I’ll already be there— but show up at eight and I’ll have a drink ready for you.”

He got there at seven fifty-seven. He wasn’t usually so punctual, but the promise of seeing you again was a strong motivator.

You knew he’d arrived when Steve called your name from the foyer, loud enough for you to hear where you were scooping ice into cups in the kitchen. “Your boyfriend’s here!” Steve added, making your face flush— the other guests definitely heard that.

“Steve,” you whined as you dashed past him to the open door, seeing Eddie beaming at you from the welcome mat. “H-he’s not my boyfriend…”

“I’m not?” Eddie grinned with an inquisitive eyebrow as he stepped inside, kissing you on the cheek politely while Steve shut the door.

“You wanna be?” you realized.

“Duh,” Eddie laughed.

“When we’re only on our second date?”

“Princess, I wanted to be your boyfriend before we even went on one,” he replied, and your heart fluttered.

Smiling proudly, you pulled Eddie into a kiss, as Steve kept leaning on the door with one hand and resting the other on his hips; a proud grin was on his face. “I’ll be awaiting my Wingman Of The Year Award in the mail any day now,” he announced, making you break away and look at him suspiciously.

“Wingman?” you repeated.

“Y-yeah, uh,” Eddie choked, moving his hands to your waist carefully, “Steve sorta… helped me out, when I didn’t know how to ask you— it’s not important now.”

“Yeah it is,” Steve corrected, a little offended, “I just got her to make you her boyfriend— you’re welcome.”

“Oh, you’ve done it now,” you warned Eddie playfully. “Once Steve starts meddling, he can’t stop.”

“Whatever,” Steve rolled his eyes, taking his hand off the door and starting to walk backwards towards the rest of the party. “If you’ll excuse me, there are some more star-crossed lovers in need of Cupid’s assistance, so…”

He mimed the shooting of a tiny bow and arrow before he disappeared, making you and Eddie laugh. “He’s already a little tipsy, apparently,” you noticed, but Eddie’s mind had already forgotten Steve entirely as he stared at you.

“You look amazing, by the way,” he informed you, drinking in the sight of your tight dress.

“I thought we might match if I wore something black,” you explained with a grin, “I was right.”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Eddie cooed, “you wanna match with your boyfriend…”

He put extra emphasis on the last word by kissing your neck gently, and you laughed as you held onto him tighter. “You really talked to Steve about asking me out?” you remembered, and you felt Eddie nod against your neck. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me— he’s not much of a secret-keeper.”

“It doesn’t bother you, does it?” he worried for a moment, pulling back.

“Of course not!” you promised. “It’s sweet… really sweet, actually, imagining you telling Steve how you’re, like, totally obsessed with me—”

“Well, it wasn’t quite like that—” Eddie began to deny.

“Shh!” you stopped him quickly. “I’m imagining it, I can imagine it however I want.”

Eddie laughed. “Fair enough. Now where’s that drink I was promised?”

Over the course of the next two hours and five drinks, you and Eddie mingled with the rest of that upper crust crowd you were used to hanging with— and, yes, they were all somewhere between confused and irritated that Eddie was here. He’s with me, you kept saying, like his arm around you wasn’t obvious enough.

He even danced with you to some music you knew he didn’t actively enjoy, but that was partly the alcohol and not just his acquiescence.

As the night seemed to get louder and rowdier, you kept trying to find somewhere that you and Eddie could be, if not alone, a little less crowded. You went outside first, but it was chilly even with his arms holding you close. All the many bedrooms of the house were, uh, occupied by this point in the evening… and so, with a devilish grin, you grabbed him by the wrist and guided him to the upstairs guest bathroom— tugging him into it and shutting the door behind you.

Before he could ask why you were in the bathroom together, you stood up on your toes to get closer to him. “I’ve been thinking about you,” you whispered in his ear.

“Yeah?” he breathed, smiling. “What were you thinking about?”

“Our date,” you remembered, “how you kissed me in your van. There were all those people around… but now we’re alone…”

“O-oh,” he choked, “yeah, we are…”

“Can you kiss me like that again?” you pleaded coyly, and he gave you a slightly dumbstruck look as he nodded.

“I can try,” he whispered, pulling you into him for a kiss that made your knees falter for a half-second— though that was partly the liquor, too.

It heated up quickly, his body pressing yours back against the sink, your moans slipping in between the movements of his lips and tongue. You hopped back and sat yourself on the counter, wrapping your legs around his hips and grinning when you felt him shiver.

“Y-you’re so sexy,” he mumbled against your skin, kissing his way to your neck, making your back arch even more. When you tightened your legs around him, it forced him to press against where your dress had ridden up— and you could feel how hard he was, through his jeans and right on your dampening panties.

“Oh, fuck,” you sighed, desperate for him to rock against you, drunk on the way it felt to make his cock all stiff and throbbing like that. And also just a little bit actually-drunk, but that was only part of it.

He kept his focus on your neck, though he pulled your dress’ single strap out of the way to kiss your shoulder, too, and his fingers on your bare skin felt fucking electric; you wanted to just fall back and lay your head against the mirror, let him do whatever he wanted to you, but you hugged him tighter instead and carded your fingers through his curly hair.

“Need you so bad,” you admitted in a hushed moan by his ear, making him grunt and hold onto your hips tightly.

“You— fuck, you know we can’t go all the way in Harrington’s bathroom, right?” he whispered harshly, pulling away from your neck to look at you with dilated eyes and bitten lips.

“Why not?” you shrugged. “Not the first time I’ve done it in here anyways…”

His eyes went wide before he cleared his throat. “I— I think we should save it for someplace a little more special, don’t you?”

You smirked at him. “Okay,” you agreed, “but we can still mess around, right?”

He grinned mischievously as he answered, “Yeah.”

“Good,” you beamed, hopping up off the counter and spinning him around suddenly to pin him back against it, “cause I wanna blow you.”

“Blow—! Blow me?!” he blurted out. “Oh, I—”

You started to drop down on your knees, but you felt his hands hold tightly onto your arms to keep you up; and you tilted your head as you looked up at him. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded quickly, “it’s just— I don’t want you to think you have to do that.”

“Oh, Eddie— I don’t think I have to,” you assured, “b-but if you want me to, I’d like to…”

He surprised you by pulling you into another kiss— not rough, but definitely a little hard as he pressed his lips to yours. Never one to question a kiss, you submitted to it and slipped your arms around his shoulders. It went on for a while, almost too long, and you started to wonder if he was ever going to let you get back on your knees for him; why was he stalling?

When he broke away, he pulled you into a tight hug. “Is everything okay?” you finally asked him.

“I don’t wanna take things too fast,” he whispered, and your heart swelled. Oh my god, I’ve found the world’s best man, you thought, knowing how rare it was for a guy to think with the head on his shoulders.

You pulled back and smiled up at him. “That’s sweet,” you decided, and he smiled back at you as he brushed his hand over your hair to softly pet your head.

“Yeah,” he agreed quietly. “We’ve got something special, I think— and the last thing I wanna do is mess it all up by rushing this.”

You leaned forward to kiss him quickly, and he smiled against you before you pulled back. “You’re so wonderful,” you hummed at him, feeling your chest warm even more as you realized you finally found a guy who liked you for you, and not just what you could do for him.

“I’m wonderful?” Eddie repeated incredulously. “Every guy out there wishes he’d been the one that brought you here tonight, you know— and none of them can believe it’s me instead. You do realize that?”

“Yeah,” you admitted with a shy giggle, taking his hand quickly. “Let’s go back out there so you can rub it in a little more, okay?”

“Okay,” he laughed as he followed you back into the hallway and through the crowd, shutting the guest bathroom’s door behind you.

You tried not to bring it up again after that, not to initiate anymore— because the way you’d left things it felt like Eddie would let you know when the time was right. Him being such a gentleman wasn’t what you’d expected— not that you thought he’d be rude and pushy or anything— but it was a pleasant surprise. Even better was imagining how wild he’d be once he finally caved and just couldn’t wait to have you any longer.

October 1986

“So, what did you wanna talk about?” Steve finally prompted as you walked side by side on the trail, leaves in every warm-toned shade decorated the earth around you. He knew you were going to keep stalling, even though you’d called him and asked if you could walk to the coffee shop together and ‘talk about something important’, unless he brought it up first. You sighed— you’d wanted to stall just a bit longer, but maybe you might as well get it over with.

“Well, I feel kinda weird talking to you about this…” you trailed off.

“Me? You tell me everything,” Steve explained.

“But Eddie’s your friend,” you sighed, and Steve stopped walking— so you did, too.

“Wait,” Steve got stern quickly, “is everything okay? He’s not hurting you is he? Do you think he’s cheating? ‘Cause I—”

“Nonono,” you interrupted quickly, “it’s fine— he’s great. He’s… amazing.”

“Okay,” Steve nodded, “you just let me know if he’s doing anything messed up to you, okay?”

“That’s the thing,” you frowned, crossing your arms tightly, “it’s more of what he’s not doing to me…”

“Huh?”

“Well, we’ve been going out a while now,” you began, “and I guess I thought— well, usually, by this point— you know I’m not a slut!”

He blinked rapidly at the sudden change in topic. “W-well, yeah! What’s that got to do with it?”

“I don’t like to put out on the first date,” you explained, “not even the second or third— I like to take things a little slower, it pisses some guys off but it pisses off the right guys so they can dump me if that’s all they want.”

“Right,” Steve agreed. “I should try that…”

“Yeah, right,” you rolled your eyes, knowing Steve wasn’t going to be able to keep up with a no-sex-on-the-first-date rule for long. “Anyways, my point is, with Eddie… I was actually gonna go all the way with him on our first date."

"Woah!" Steve laughed, but he raised his hands up when you glared at him. "No judgment! Seems like it worked out, anyways."

"N-no, I was going to, but then we didn't."

Steve raised an eyebrow.

"Then at your party…"

"Oh god," he shuddered, "just tell me you didn't use any of my mom's nice hand towels…"

"No! Steve, we didn't do it there," you groaned, "he actually told me that he wants to take things slow."

"Oh," Steve relaxed, "cool— I guess he's pretty serious about you."

You nodded, remembering when you thought of it the same way, but that logic was less comforting now.

"So, how long did he wait before you…?"

You looked at Steve, eventually raising your eyebrows to try to signal him wordlessly, but it took him a couple seconds to put it together. "Oh, shit!" he yelped. "You haven't, still?!"

"He must think I'm hideous," you assumed immediately, hiding your face in your hands.

"I'm sure it's not that," Steve tried to assure you.

"What would it take for you to not sleep with your girlfriend after a month and a half?" you pressed.

"Uh…" Steve stalled, biting his lip.

You crossed your arms, waiting impatiently. "Let me guess: an apocalyptic event of Biblical proportions?"

"Yeah, something like that," he admitted.

"See! He's not into me at all," you whimpered.

"No way," Steve insisted, "he was crushing on you hard way before he asked you out. He told me! He only waited as long as he did 'cause he thought I'd have a problem with it, for whatever reason."

"So what changed?"

Steve pondered that. "Uh," he realized suddenly, "you don't think he's got, uh…"

Steve whistled as he held up his pinky finger, and you choked on your own throat. "We've done stuff, you know," you informed him, "and from what I can tell, that's… not the issue. At all."

"Okay, okay," Steve waved his hands, “spare me the gory details.”

“I don’t have gory details, I haven’t even seen it,” you whined.

“But it feels normal?” he prompted.

You shrugged. “Through jeans.”

“Huh,” Steve considered, “maybe he’s worried about how it looks, then. Maybe it’s all… weird-looking.”

You grimaced. “I mean, maybe…”

“Maybe it’s like, a zombie dick!” Steve exclaimed.

“You’ve been watching too many scary movies,” you rolled your eyes— this is what happens when you watch horror movies every day in anticipation of Halloween, apparently.

“Or maybe it’s an alien that controls his mind!” Steve continued regardless.

“Pretty sure all guys’ minds are controlled by their dicks, Steve,” you sighed. Except my boyfriend, the metalhead prude.

You and Eddie had been watching horror movies to get in the spooky spirit as well… you just hadn’t been watching them as effectively.

“Eddie,” you giggled as he kissed up your neck, tickling you with the tip of his tongue. He traced the shape of your ear and you groaned, pushing on his shoulders slightly as your back arched.

“I thought you liked that,” he teased.

“I-I do,” you admitted.

“Then say it,” he prompted; your thighs clenched.

“I… I like that,” you whimpered, “fuck, Eddie, s’good…”

He hummed proudly and latched his teeth onto your neck again, pressing his chest up against yours. It reminded you how hard your nipples had become, and you found yourself reaching to find one of Eddie’s hands on your lower back, guiding it up up up until he was grabbing at you through your shirt. “Fuck,” he grunted by your ear, “wanted me to feel your tits, coulda just asked, princess.”

He was definitely an auditory kind of person, liked to hear you say it all: feels good, right there, touch me, kiss me— only thing he didn’t like to hear was do we have to stop now?

Because it always stopped too soon for your tastes; you’d been camping out at second base for ages, and not that you didn’t love the way Eddie’s fingers teased your little buds at the same time that his thick hands groped your whole chest appreciatively— not that you didn’t love the way he swore you were perfect, voice low and rough as he showered you in compliments and oh-so-politely asked permission to put his mouth on them. But god, if that was the way he teased you here, you could only imagine how it would feel on your clit, those expert fingers rubbing you as he watched your face fall into ecstasy, as he told you he would put a few inside to warm you up for his cock…

Literally, you could only imagine it. It was driving you actually fucking crazy.

He hummed as he pushed your shirt up, latching onto your nipple the second one was exposed to him, and you cried out loudly— probably loud enough for one of the neighboring trailers to hear, honestly. Not that you had the energy to care about that now.

“So sensitive,” he mocked lightly, flicking the bud over and over with the end of his tongue for a second. “Are they always like this?”

No, only when you’ve been edging me for seven weeks. “J-just for you,” you stammered out, and he hummed quickly before moving on to the other, tilting his head— he looked damn good like that, eyes shut with his lashes resting on his cheeks, mouth open just enough to fit your nipple inside, full lips suckling at you. “You’re pretty,” you blurted out, and he blinked those big eyes open to smile up at you.

“Me?” he chuckled. “Nah, no way.”

“Yeah you are,” you insisted with a laugh, sitting up slightly. “You’re hot, actually.”

You reached for his shoulders and guided him back, until he was sitting properly on the couch again (which he hadn’t been since ten minutes into the movie when he descended on you) and you were the one leaning over him. “Oh,” he gasped a bit when you straddled his lap; the energy changed a bit.

“Is this okay?” you asked quietly.

“U-uh, yeah,” he nodded, and you smiled as you rested your hands on his shoulders before you kissed him again. It was a little different this time, it felt less like fooling around and more like… something important. His hands didn’t stay glued to your chest this time, they wandered carefully to your exposed back, holding you delicately like you were breakable; his kiss was delicate, too, everything felt more patient. You thought it couldn’t get any better than that heat-of-the-moment feeling, that playful energy you had before, but the sensuality of this was newer and even more addictive.

You sighed as you moved in his lap— not of your own accord, just your body surrendering to instinct. Your hips sought any friction they could find and your hands searched his chest for a good place to latch on to; they ended up sliding over his neck and into his hair, which made him softly moan as you tugged on the messy locks.

“Princess,” he choked, “fuck— you’re so… fuck.”

You rocked your hips a little slower, but pressed down harder into his lap, and both of you groaned as you rubbed right on the firm bulge under his fly. “Eddie,” you whimpered, feeling his fingers tighten at your waist, “I— I want you…”

Your heart sank as he gasped and pushed you back. “M-maybe we should slow down a bit,” he decided suddenly. Your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you stared down, sitting on his knees.

“Um… okay…” you mumbled quietly. You hadn’t really tried to get things going since Steve’s party, but you didn’t really suspect that if you did, you’d be outright rejected. It wasn’t something you were used to in a time like this. “Do you… still wanna kiss?”

“Yeah!” he said quickly. “I just… I don’t wanna take things too fast.”

That excuse was cute a month ago. Your shoulders slumped defeatedly and you pulled your shirt down again— but you still felt uncomfortably exposed, somehow, and you wrapped your arms around yourself to try to distract from the empty feeling inside.

“Oh god, princessl, what’s wrong?” he cooed quietly. “I-I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I know… but can you tell me what’s going on?” you pleaded. “Is it me? You are attracted to me, right?”

“What?! Of course I am,” he shook his head, bewildered by your insecurity. As if that was something you should’ve figured out by, what, clairvoyance?

“I’m just not sure what to think,” you mumbled. “I wanna go further— and I don’t wanna, you know, force you or pressure you or anything, but to be totally honest… I’ve never had to talk a guy into sex before. And I can’t help but wonder if there’s something wrong.”

“No, nothing’s wrong,” he promised, “at least not with you. I do wanna, you know, take the next step with you. It’s been driving me crazy to keep stopping you when you offer… all that stuff…”

“So why turn me down?” you pouted. “If we both want it, what else is there to worry about?”

He sighed slightly as he glanced away.

“C’mon, Eddie, is something going on?” you pleaded. “Just talk to me. Whatever it is, I wanna know.”

“Well, yeah,” he relented, “it’s… it’s me, it’s this thought I have every time I try to take things past just making out.”

You waited patiently for his explanation, wringing your hands nervously.

“You and Steve went out for… a while,” he recalled. “And, you know, he’s— got a reputation. A very good one.”

“Oh,” you sighed.

“And he’s, uh… been with a lot of girls,” Eddie continued nervously. “I-I’m not a virgin or anything, but I’ve never actually had a girlfriend before, so…”

“So?” you encouraged.

“I guess I just… I’m worried that I won’t be as good as him,” he finally admitted. “Actually, I’m about ninety-five percent confident I won’t be as good as him— and if I’m not, maybe you… won’t wanna go out anymore.”

“Eddie,” you sighed, equal parts relieved and heartbroken and bewildered. You reached up and held his face in both your hands, making him look at you. “I wanna be with you. Not Steve, or anybody else.”

“And when you say be with…” he trailed off.

“I mean that in every sense,” you clarified. “I like going out with you, I love being your girlfriend. And I want us to do what boyfriends and girlfriends do— I want us to, you know… touch each other, and pleasure each other…”

You lowered your voice, moving in a little closer on his lap, and his gaze seemed to get a little heavier.

“Feel each other,” you continued, “and explore, you know? ‘Cause yeah, it will be different than it was with Steve. But Steve and I had to get to know each other before it was really great. I think once we get a chance to practice, we’ll be even better.”

“Practice?” he repeated.

“Yeah,” you grinned, “that’s the fun part.”

Eddie blinked at you quickly. “I— I guess it’s different when you’re dating, huh? Because I’ve never had a chance to, uh, improve for next time. I’ve never had a next time before.”

You smiled. “Well, if things go my way,” you explained, leaning in closer beside his face, “there’s gonna be a next time—” you kissed his cheek, “and a next time—” you moved around and kissed the other— “and a next time…”

He shuddered when you placed a quick peck on his jaw. “Okay,” he breathed, “I like the sound of that. But… I want our first time to be… you know, really amazing and stuff.”

You laughed. “After all this damn anticipation, I’m sure it will be. You drove me crazy making me wait so long, Eddie.”

He coughed; “S-sorry,” he offered, “I wasn’t trying to, I swear. And it drove me crazy, too. I honestly wanted to make it with you right then and there in my van at the drive-in on our very first date— but I figured I’d get slapped if I tried that.”

You bit your lip as you leaned in a little closer. “Eddie, I would’ve let you,” you whispered. “I was so hot for you, I wanted you so bad…”

He swallowed as he blinked up at you. “I-I didn’t think you were that kind of girl,” he admitted, and you giggled.

“I’m not,” you promised, “I just couldn’t help it when you kissed me like that. I was totally yours, Eddie, from the first kiss.”

His fingers squeezed your hips and you purred. “God, that’s— you’re so perfect,” he sighed. “I-I was honestly afraid I would bust in my jeans that night,” he admitted with a soft laugh, “and then at Harrington’s party, when you said you wanted to…? I was toast.”

You raised an eyebrow. “You know, that offer still stands if you want me to—”

“Oh, fuck no,” he laughed, “I’m already gonna be fighting to last once I get inside you, don’t need you getting me all worked up with that pretty mouth you’ve got.”

His finger traced your lips and you opened them to suckle on the end of it; his lip twitched and you felt his hips rock up against you.

“Fuck,” he grunted, “let’s go to bed, angel, I think we’ve waited long e-fucking-nough.”

Of course, ‘let’s go to bed’ makes it sound more cooperative— really he all but carried and dragged you across the trailer to his bed, tossing you onto it and peeling his shirt off in a second before he descended onto you. Giggling, you held the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss you sweetly.

Your shirt didn’t last long, either, but he was more interested in getting your skirt and stockings off; and thank god for that, because you didn’t need any more foreplay after getting teased for the past… sixteen, maybe seventeen dates? You lost count a while ago.

He propped himself up on one arm above you, looking down with his bottom lip between his teeth as he saw your panties. You bit your lip, too, at the sight of his expression— of his eyes darkening a bit and his chest filling with a deep breath.

“Oh, princess,” he cooed, making you shiver joyfully. “Look at these…”

His fingers traced the lacy edge of your underwear, toying quickly with the little bow at the front. “That tickles,” you mumbled, and he met your gaze again with a grin.

“These all for me?” he assumed, and you nodded. “Wanted to get all dressed up for me, in case I finally took you to bed?”

“Something like that,” you admitted. You hadn’t worn nice panties to every date, as your hope for more than back-of-the-bus level touching faded, but thankfully something told you to wear them to this one. That ‘something’ being Steve.

“They’re cute,” he decided, “all… girly, and delicate, like you.” He lifted your legs slightly, and his playful attitude shifted to something a bit more intense. “And they’re— fuck, baby— they’re soaked.”

You wiggled your hips, slightly self-conscious about him staring at the wet patch on your blush lace. “Th-that’s just what you do to me,” you replied, just before he shut you up with another bruising kiss, pressing his body down on yours. Even just his bare chest against your own was soothing and warm.

He rocked his hips against yours, pressing the bulge under his fly right up to that wet spot on your panties; you could feel the ridge of his head, the way his cock throbbed, even his balls pressing up to your ass through the denim. “That,” he whispered into your lips, “is what you do to me.”

“Fuck,” you whined, “I wanna— lemme feel you, Eddie, please, I w-wanna… wanna touch you there.”

“Where?” he prompted teasingly.

“Your cock,” you groaned, and he sat up to start working on his belt.

“Coulda just said so,” he insisted with a wink, admiring the way you looked all wide-eyed and needy as you watched him open his jeans.

If only it had been that easy; but you were sure the wait would be worth it, especially when you saw the thick outline of his cock through the checkered boxers. It looked even bigger than it felt before— actually, you were a little light-headed looking at it all of a sudden.

You were reaching up for the waistband already but he stopped you, grabbing your hands and grinning mischievously as he pinned them at your sides. "Ah ah, not yet," he corrected teasingly, "I wanna see you first. You wrapped your pussy up like a little present for me, don't I get to open it?"

You wouldn't have minded if he opened that present the way he actually opened presents: tearing at the paper ferally. But instead he removed your panties slowly and delicately, like one of those people who unsticks the tape and saves the paper. Except instead of that he was sliding his fingers down your thighs, watching the lace unstick from your damp folds, groaning low in his chest as you were revealed to him.

It wasn't until the panties were past your ankles and tossed aside that you could open your legs— or, more accurately, that he could carefully guide your legs to spread for him— and he stared down with his lip between his teeth at your pussy. You felt a little awkward being examined like that, but it was all worth it for the way his nostrils flared, the way he brought his thumb to the point where your lower lips met and pulled your sex taut for a better look at your swollen button, the way he sighed and tilted his head back for a moment with his eyes shut— like it was too much to look at it for that long, like he needed a break to cope with the perfection before him. "Baby," he all but moaned as he stared down at it again— and then at you, at your shy face waiting for him to say something. "So fuckin' pretty. Shit, gotta be the prettiest pussy I've ever seen."

You bit down on your smile as he laid down over you again, kissing you hungrily. You felt him start to push his own boxers down and you weren't about to let him do it all by himself, so you reached down between your body and his to grab his erection— and you both groaned as you held it.

"Mm," he hummed, kissing your neck for a moment, "your hands are soft…"

But his sweet tone shifted a bit as you wrapped your legs around his hips, making him press forward enough for you to guide his squishy head right over your folds.

"Fuck," he whispered harshly, "y'wanna put it in for me, princess?" He seemed amused by your eagerness, after spending the last month and a half making you this desperate. "Just can't wait anymore, need me too bad?"

You whimpered, but nodded. He pulled his face back from where it had nestled by your neck and looked down at you with a smile. His gaze had softened a bit, something sweet and gentle in his stare. "Need you, Eddie," you agreed before he could even ask you to just say it, princess.

He kissed you again, a little more patiently, and let you move his cock right up to your hole that had been flexing helplessly since this all started. He kept kissing you even as he pushed inside, both of you gasping together at the feeling.

“Oh, Eddie,” you sighed into his mouth fallen slack, holding tightly onto his shoulder blades. “Is that— are you all the way in?”

“Just a little more,” he whispered, “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

You shook your head, and he gave you the rest with a gentle thrust into the end of you; you arched your back, but it wasn’t too difficult to take. He was thick enough that maybe it should’ve stung, but after this much anticipation you were beyond prepared.

“Wow,” he panted, right into your slack-open mouth, “you feel like fucking heaven.”

His pace was gentle and slow at first, each of his breaths hot puffs across your face before he had to hug you tighter, hold you closer, bury his face just above your shoulder. Your walls hugged onto him tight, just like your legs wrapped around his hips, and he breathed in the scent of your heated skin by the crook of your neck.

With each stroke you dragged your nails lightly across the back of his neck, tangling your fingers into his mess of curls.

Your cheeks burned when you heard the sound of it, the wet noises that filled the trailer each time Eddie's hips collided with your own.

"Fuck," he sighed right by your ear, "princess— you're so… so fucking wet…"

That much was obvious, but hearing the way it made Eddie practically melt was amazing. His voice broke with each moan beside your ear, every slide against your dripping walls, every plunge into your warmth. He picked up the pace quickly, struggling to hold himself back anymore.

He whined out your name a few times, his clammy hands slipping under your back and keeping you hugged tightly against him. "S-so good," he grunted, "you're so good, princess, feel so good for me— fuck."

Turns out, Eddie was just as talkative during sex as he was at all other times. And thank god for that, because hearing him talk made you shiver all over, even inside. "Eddie," you whimpered, feeling the curve of his cock stroke right on that place inside— at just the same time that his hips were rubbing on your clit from the gyrating motion of his thrusts. "Fuck— right there, right there—"

"Like that?" he noticed. "This how you like it, baby?"

"Yes," you promised. "Yes, yes, yes…"

He kept his motions the same but moved a little faster, skin slapping on yours and your whole body rocking up and down— or maybe it was the mattress under you… or maybe it was the trailer itself. Possibly all of the above.

His mouth was wide open just by your neck, every soft grunt and panted breath falling out for you— and they were getting louder the longer he went on, his grip on your back was tightening. You knew he was close already from all of that plus the way you felt his cock jump inside you, and it turned you on like nothing else.

"Princess," he whined, "you— god, you… fuck."

You giggled a bit at the way he had failed completely to finish whatever sentence he'd started.

"Aw, don't laugh at me," he pouted slightly, though the way he had to talk through his teeth made it sound almost like a threat— and you really liked that. "Can't help it, I can't fucking think straight when I'm inside you— Christ I still can't believe it, you know. That you want me. You could have anybody— fuck— and you feel fucking perfect and— god I dunno how much more of this I can take."

As good as it felt, you weren't quite there yet— you weren't even close, really. It always took you a while to finish, but Eddie clearly didn't have a while: he was already all red in the face and moaning weakly into your neck, fucking you with needy and erratic thrusts. But you didn't even care; it was so sweet, seeing him lose his cool so quickly, you didn't mind if you weren't left quite as satisfied at the end of this. It was worth it to watch him fall apart and know you were the cause.

“Fuck, fuck!” he whined. “Oh— fuck, I don’t wanna come yet, I shouldn’t come yet—”

But you could see it was killing him; his face was tightened up so hard and he couldn’t seem to force himself to slow down. “It’s okay,” you promised, “it’s okay, you can come, Eddie…”

“Oh my god oh my god,” he rushed in a split second, “I-I’m gonna come. Fuck, I can come inside, right?”

You laughed lightly. “Yeah,” you assured.

“Good, ‘cause, I dunno if I can pull out,” he admitted.

In a second he was slamming his hips into yours, desperately chasing release— and your moans got louder and sharper at the feeling.

"Fuck, baby, fuckfuckfuck—!" he whimpered, moving his hands to your hips to keep you as still as possible; and suddenly, he sunk down and deflated with a long sigh, and knowing he was coming inside you made a tingle crawl up your back.

He only took a half second to catch his breath and blink his eyes open before he was looking at you apologetically.

“I’m so sorry,” he panted right away, “you didn’t—”

“Hey, it’s fine,” you promised, “like I said, there’s always next time—”

“No,” he said firmly, surprising you. “This time. You need to come this time, too.”

"W-well, I—" you started, cut off when his thumb found your slick and throbbing nub and stroked it in careful circles. Instantly your hips jumped and your walls seized up, a shaky breath slipping out of your lips. "Oh…"

"S'that better, princess?" he cooed, still breathing heavily— he hadn't even lost his boner yet, and the feeling of your pussy bearing down on him from pleasure was surely helping to keep it alive. "Tell me how it feels."

"Good," you choked, feeling him press harder on it, "fuck, I— I like it when you touch me there…"

"Mhm?" he encouraged. "Like when I rub your clit?"

You sighed; "Yeah, fuck, Eddie— I like it—"

He pulled out suddenly and climbed down, kissing and biting hungrily at your inner thighs before you'd even processed what was happening. It made your hips lift off the bed, the way his teeth teased your sensitive skin, and the pressure of that forced a thick drop of his come out of your cunt.

When he saw it, his eyebrows knitted and his chest sunk— he almost looked heartbroken just from the sight of it.

"God, that's too perfect," he groaned, "I got you so full, princess, you can't even fit it all inside— it's dripping, baby, fuck, that's my come dripping out of you right now…"

He held your thighs and stared right at it, watched that creamy white drop run down the seam of your ass, your little hole flexing right in front of his face— and he couldn't help it, he had to dive in and lick it up.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as he latched onto you, hot and hungry mouth tasting every inch of your cunt that his tongue could reach.

"Eddie!" you yelped, shocked but overwhelmingly aroused that he was doing something so… well, filthy. Eating his own come from you after pumping it so deep into you; and he seemed to be just as pleased, shutting his eyes tight and moaning as his plunged his tongue inside you and lapped up the mix of his come and your wetness.

He broke away for just a second, panting, looking up at you with glassy eyes. “We taste so good together,” he said, like he didn’t even notice how sexy that was to say. He went in again to lap at you, taking more time over your clit this go-round— and making your legs shake a little when he did. His eyes darted to the side as he noticed it, a grin breaking out around his extended tongue which he slipped back into his mouth. “Oh… I like when you do that. Think I’ll have to see if I can make you do it again.”

He gave another wide lap of his tongue over your bud, pressing down hard until your legs shook again. He kept his tongue still and nodded his head up and down slightly, and it just happened over and over until your back was arching up off the bed and were clutching at his hair in hopes of mercy. “F-fuck, Eddie, feels really good,” you managed to choke out.

But it was just the beginning, and a second later he wrapped his lips around your bud and suckled at it— almost too hard, but just the right amount of too hard.

“Oh god!” you shouted before you could stop yourself. “Fuck!”

He hummed proudly and kept going, swirling his tongue over the delicate skin as you whimpered and sobbed. It was intense and sharp, hot shocks of pleasure jumping up through your body.

"I'm gonna come!" you shouted— too loud, too whiny, too beautifully pathetic. "Eddie, baby, please—"

You had no idea what you were asking for, but he hummed and nodded without breaking away, and you were sure that whatever it was, he would give it to you.

Both your hands held onto his head and you started to just writhe, there wasn't much else you could do. Paradoxically, as you started to reach the peak, your body fought to get away from the sensation— like it was too much, like you were scared to come this hard. But Eddie held you to your promise to come, fighting to stay latched onto you even as you bucked and almost screamed; and then, once it hit you, it was over in a flash. The white-hot pleasure burned you up in a moment and you had to actually push his head away before it hurt too much.

"Fuck, fuck," you panted, sighing with relief as he let go and grinned up at you with a smile soaked in your cream.

"Did you come?" he asked excitedly, as you collapsed back limply onto the mattress.

"Are you kidding?" you wheezed, and he laughed softly as he climbed back up to lay down next to you, draping an arm over your waist. “I— fuck, Eddie,” you laughed breathlessly, “nobody’s ever made me come that way before.”

“Not even Steve?” he beamed.

“Not even Steve,” you agreed.

"So… that means I'm… better than him?" Eddie prompted hopefully.

"Eddie, it's not about that," you frowned, "it's— you're totally different, it's apples and oranges."

"Okay but, between apples and oranges, which one is better at sex?"

You shoved him on the shoulder but he pulled you into a tight hug, keeping you close even when you wanted to squirm away and leave him alone as punishment for bringing this up.

"Just tell me so I can rub it in Harrington's smug little face tomorrow," Eddie pleaded, and you laughed a bit.

"I'm gonna be too busy rubbing it in your smug little face tomorrow," you warned him with a raised eyebrow, and he grinned excitedly. "I— actually, can I sit on your face sometime? I've always wanted to try that."

"O-okay, yeah, we can do that instead," he nodded eagerly. "Whatever you want, princess."

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #stranger things fanfiction

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helluva-daughter · 5 months

Text

So let's talk about Vivziepop's designing skills!

The amount of sadness I feel when I see Vivziepop's designs of the demons in Helluva Boss is impossibly high

Simply comparing them from where she is pulling from feels like looking at a newborn compared to a grandma. Now let's go through them!

Lucifer

Viv's Lucifer, a popular depiction of Lucifer ("The Fallen Angel" by Alexandre Cabanel), and one with Jesus ("The Temptation of Christ" by Ary Scheffer)

You can see a big difference in a lot, as you can see Lucy (which will be Viv's version) has well. Clothing but we can give her a pass for that as I don't think Youtube would be fine with an animated dick on screen. Another thing is his lack of wings, bat-like or feathered along with blonde instead of red curled hair and yellow eyes instead of the blue Lucifer has in The Fallen Angel.

But what I see as the biggest thing is Lucy's lack of muscles! In both of these depictions I have chosen Lucifer appears muscular whilst Lucy has Viv's favorite smile and body shape.

Asmodeus

Here we have Viv's Asmodeus (Ozzie) and Asmodeus from Collin de Plancy's "Dictionnaire Infernal"

I will give Viv major props, I LOVE Ozzie's design. If we removed the feathers, made his head bigger, and some small things it would be AMAZING! But comparing it to Asmodeus it's... wooo.... very different.

First you can see is Asmodeus does not look conventionally attractive with his strange old man face, elf ears, bull head, ram head, serpent tail, and literal chicken legs. Ozzie does have the 2 heads on his shoulders (just very small) and a tail (not a serpent one) but other than that the similarities end. Though I do think taking Asmodeus the direction to being physically attractive to most people was a good way to go.

A personal nit pick is the clear lack of a BADASS DRAGON. Yes, Asmodeus has a BADASS DRAGON. On his little Dictionnaire Infernal image he's sitting on a BADASS DRAGON which he holds a banner as he rides. Viv you could have made Fizz a cool dragon demon! Make him look LESS like Blitz's twin brother and more like something that related to the Ars Goetia canon.

Beelzebub

Now this is Viv's Beelzebub and a fly-like Beelzebub (Beelzebul) (I've left out the more manly versions of Beelzebub to keep it fair as Beelzebub is a woman)

So a big thing we can see is Beelzebub is a furry whilst Beelzebul is a straight up fly, taking the term "Lord of the Flies" much more seriously. Now comparing these two is basically impossible minus their wings and extra arms. Now with them looking nothing alike I'll put some of my own personal critique's in.

One, Beelzebub's hair and tail makes me want to vomit. It's constantly moving thus every frame it must be moved which is HORRIBLE on an animation stand point. Two, Her clothes. A direct quote from the Helluva Boss wiki says "Beelzebub represents the animal tamer/animal shows" when her clothing looks like that it's hard to believe. If it was casual clothes? Okay I'd believe that but it being her debut episode wouldn't you want her in her normal clothes? And that's ignoring her magical disappearing bra... is that just an arm strap? Three, the ear thing. God the ear thing! Viv said they were supposed to appear like beehives... girl what beehives have you been seeing? Maybe she meant honeycomb? Still I see zero resemblance.

Mammon

Here we have Viv's Mammon, Mammon (Mam) from the painting "The Worship of Mammon" by Evelyn De Morgan, and Mammon (Mon) from Collin de Plancy's "Dictionnaire Infernal"

As we can see Mammon looks like the Teen Titans Go Robin mixed with a Christmas tree, the Christmas theming is quite clever I'll give Viv that. Christmas is a time of greedily taking all that is given to you through gifts. Now I could complain about how Mammon is poor rep for a fat character and simply is a widened version of her normal body type but I already made a post about that

But comparing him to Mam and Mon? Nothing similar. Mam we can see appears like a very large naked buff dark skinned man whilst Mon is a freakish old man with wide eyes and tattered clothes. Mammon shares zero similarities to either of them.

Another thing is Mammon's monster form... I believe everybody has seen it and hochie momma it is HORRIBLE! From the screenshots I've seen we don't see all of it but he's clearly intended to be a spider of sorts which is great! Spiders can often be seen with 6 flies trapped on their web being hoarded for later but Viv seems to have taken the lazy route of extra legs and 2 extra set of eyes. Anthro spiders can be so so SO cool but I feel scammed. Stolen from. My life savings have been taken by this shitty design.

Paimon

Here we have Vivziepop's Paimon and Paimon (Paimonia) from Collin de Plancy's "Dictionnaire Infernal"

As we can see they appear nothing alike minus the crown and odd chicken legs though Paimon lacks the camel that Paimonia has. Paimonia also has a feminine face and a humanoid body, nothing like Paimon. Though I personally think Paimon's design is stunning what made Viv connect the two, is it because the Goetia family is intended to all be ripped from the Ars Goetia? I feel though that Paimon's design takes as much as it can from Paimonia while making him look related to Stolas but why does he need to be named Paimon?

Stolas

Here we have Vivzie's Stolas and Stolas (Stolos) from Collin de Plancy's "Dictionnaire Infernal"

So, I have a lot of issues with Stolas's design, it's ugly first of all but compared to Stolos's cute yet shocked wide eyes and charming little beak it's even more obvious how ugly it is.

First, Stolos is shown as an owl (but also is described as a Raven). which Viv got right along with keeping his crown and odd horn-like feathers. However, I believe making Stolas that skinny doesn't follow the model of most owls as they can be pretty fluffy and plump. Even Stolos has a round fluffy chest that trails into his comically long legs.

Second, that cape is very horrifying but not in a good way. Nobody wants to animate a cape with that many rips! Even if they don't have to be precise. Also, why do his buttons have no lineart when everything else around it has lineart? I have the same issue with Blitz's design and his random chest orbs.

Feel free to put in your own reblogs and replies with your opinions! You can also send in asks with designs from HH or HB that aren't linked to previously existing designs unlike these fellows and I'll throw in my personal thoughts.

-Mod Paimon

#mod paimon #helluva critical #anti helluva boss #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #helluva boss critique #vivziepop critical #anti vivziepop #hazbin critique #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #hazbin hotel critique

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fqirysim · 5 months

Text

untitled--

genre(s): angst, some fluff at the end, exes to best friends to lovers, highschool au, lowercase intended, lots of pov changes

requested: nope !

pairing(s): yang jungwon x reader, ft. yuna (itzy), and intak (p1h)

word count: 7.2k (my longest fic yet ! )

warning(s): cursing, underage drinking, a tiny bit of infidelity

synopsis: you had been in love with yang jungwon since the day you met him.

note: lowercase is intended, lots of pov changes! (read carefully so you don’t get confused lol). this took me a year to make PLEASE don't judge too harshly i put my heart and soul into this 😭. took me a year to make but could not come up with a title for the life of me, hence why it is called untitled, silly silly me. this was really fun to make though and although it took me a while to make, i'm very proud of it. lmk if you want to be added to my taglist and i will gladly do so !! special thanks to my bestie abby and my bf dean for proofreading love you both <3333

—------

you were certain this was the end of your friendship with jungwon. again. but this time you knew it would be permanent.

he was the boy who lived next door. growing up, you had always admired him from afar. the class president who everyone, including the upperclassmen, seemed to get along with.

you had liked him until freshman year, when you got tired of pining over someone who didn’t seem to hold any interest in you. as comical as it seems, that was around the time that he had started to take an interest in you.

and so he courted you, bringing you your favorite drink, walking you home, even coming over for dinner and hanging out at your house. this helped blossom a friendship that no one saw coming, and it wasn’t long until people started to wonder if you two were an item.

it took two months for jungwon to muster up the courage to ask you to be his girlfriend.

you were sure you were over your crush on him, that it was just a silly childhood crush. but as you hung out with him more and more, you couldn’t help but fall for him all over again. of course you said yes, because who wouldn’t say yes to the pretty starry-eyed boy standing before you?

jungwon was a nice boyfriend; going on dates quite often, never fought, and he would buy you flowers without being asked.. maybe the latter was why the whirlwind relationship only lasted five months.

you remember the day so vividly, sitting on the bench at your favorite park; the same park where jungwon had asked you to be his, and here he was, asking you to break up.

it seemed poetic in a kind of way, starting as his, and leaving as no one’s.

“i’m sorry. i’ve just lost romantic feelings,” jungwon stated, staring down at the grass as a breeze of wind came, the blades of grass swaying slightly. “it’s just that we’ve both been so busy with other things, and i guess we kinda just like, drifted apart because of it.”

“yeah, i think so too,” you replied nonchalantly, ignoring the slight sting in your heart.

his head snapped up, your eyes finally meeting his, “wait, actually? you’re not lying?” the sound of relief in his voice made your heart feel like it was being squeezed.

“do you want to get rid of me that bad?” you instead teased with a grin.

“no!” he exclaimed with wide eyes. “i still wanna be friends with you. i might not like you romantically anymore, but i don’t wanna like, lose the friendship we have, you know?”

“yeah,” you replied, “we can still be friends.”

and you two meant it. there were no tears, and no broken hearts (that you would like to admit). it was just a simple case of the right person and the wrong time, and as the years continued, you tried to convince yourself that it was just nothing. that jungwon was not your “right” anything- he was just your best friend, nothing more, nothing less.

you were almost successful. until your last year of high school approached.

you and jungwon kept your word, you stayed friends. always being seen together; walking to class, walking home, studying in the library, eating lunch in the cafeteria.

people still believed you were together, and you always had to correct them, because no you and jungwon were no longer together and no you were not a thing.

they never believed you, though.

there was always a small part of you that wanted to say yes when someone would ask. that you and jungwon were a thing and that he was yours and you were his. but you never did, callingyourself crazy for even thinking of doing so.

you found yourself doing it again as yuna had asked you earlier in the week.

yuna was the new girl this year, having transferred from jyp high. from what you heard, she was nice, smart, and she was gorgeous. you were never one to put yourself down, but you couldn’t say that you didn’t feel insecure standing next to her.

“no, jungwon and i are not dating,” you smiled politely. it was almost like a script at this point. “we’re just good friends.”

“that’s good to hear,” yuna smiled, her eyes sparkling. “i just wanted to ask him out, but i wasn’t going to if you had a thing!”

“oh, you’re thinking of confessing to him?” you questioned. there was that little part of you again. the part that always said no! tell them you’re a thing! tell them to not do it!

“yeah, he’s in a bunch of my classes. he’s super smart and polite and he always knows how to make me laugh. and he has such pretty eyes,” she sighed dreamily as her mouth formed into a lovesick smile.

“well, he has that effect on people,” you grinned.

i would know, you thought.

“i say go for it! he’s not particularly interested in anyone, you have a good chance.”

“you really think so?” she asked, eyes wide.

god, i hope not, you thought. as shitty as it was, you didn’t want jungwon to move on. you felt sick at the thought of him being with someone else.

“why not?” you said instead. “he’ll be at the library after school today studying, i’m supposed to meet him, but i can just tell him something came up.”

“oh my god, you’re the best!” she squealed, engulfing you in a hug. “thank you thank you thank you.”

“you’re welcome,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around her, ignoring the green monster growing within you.

—----

it had been four days since your conversation with yuna. every time you saw him, you waited for him to bring up the date with baited breath- but he hadn’t said anything. not yet at least.

or maybe yuna simply didn’t ask him on a date. that’s what you were secretly hoping, at least.

it seemed hoping wasn’t enough. on the fifth day jungwon approached you from down the hall with those twinkling eyes and a bright smile you love so much, he seemed more energetic than usual with a little hop in his step.

“you’re not gonna believe what happened today!” he exclaimed as he reached you at your locker.

you could believe it. you were the one who hooked yuna up after all. yet you feigned curiosity as you looked at him quizzically, “what is it?”

“yuna asked me on a date! me! of all people! she’s so cool and smart and nice and pretty,” he said with a dreamy look on his face.

you knew that look. the far away gaze as he thought of her. it was one you would never forget. it’s how he used to look at you. that lovesick grin and those twinkling eyes.

it had never bothered you before when jungwon had crushes on other girls, because well, that’s all they were. they never escalated into anything more. looking at his lovestruck expression, realization hit that jungwon wasn’t yours anymore.

you shouldn’t have thought of it that way. you should be happy for him! you should’ve been celebrating with him and cheering him on!

you couldn’t help the bittersweet smile on your face as you replied, “oh, well that’s nice.”

his smile faltered slightly at your expression, concern slowly forming on his face.

“are you okay?” he asked.

“i’m fine, don’t worry,” you said, regaining your composure. “i’m happy for you! and don’t worry about spending less time with me, you’re gonna be a busy guy now! with a girlfriend…”

“okay, she is not my girlfriend. and even if she was, I would never ditch you!”

“yeah whatever you say, loverboy,” you joked, giving him a playful nudge with your shoulder.

“no seriously, y/n,” he replied, softly. “are you okay with yuna and i being a thing? i just don’t want it to be weird because you and i used to be a thing, and i know we’re both over that but i just wanted to make sure-,”

“what, me?” you scoffed, cutting the boy off. “what you and i had wasn’t serious, it was just some dumb high school fling.”

even as you spoke those words, you knew they weren’t true. it was more than just a fling. you loved him and maybe you still did.

silence hung between you, the hallway getting quieter as the remaining students scrambled to their classes, the late bell ringing, leaving you and jungwon in the hallway alone.

he looked hurt at what you said. you immediately wanted to take it back, to say you didn’t mean it and that he was your first love and you didn’t want him going on that date with yuna.

“sorry, i shouldn’t have said that,” you muttered, not being able to meet his eyes and instead turning to close your locker.

“no, you don’t have anything to apologize for,” he replied, as he started to back away, making his way to his class down the hall. “you’re right, it was just a fling, and honestly, it’s so weird to think of us as a couple.”

it was like your world was falling apart around you as he spoke. did you interpret his hurt expression wrong? maybe this all was one-sided. did he not feel his heart breaking like you did? did he not wonder occasionally (or everyday) how his life would be if you were still together? did he not miss what you had?

maybe there really was nothing between you and jungwon but friendship.

“yeah, so weird,” you awkwardly smiled, walking to catch up with him. “but you and i, we’re good, right?”

“yep, no worries,” he grinned back.

“good,” you smiled. “so when’s your date?”

his eyes brightened ever so slightly as you asked. he started to describe his date– how he was going to take her to the beach and have a picnic and play in the sand.

you nodded along, your mind wandering off to when jungwon would take you on beach dates, burying him in the sand, splashing him with water and swimming away before he could splash you back.

you looked over at the boy in question, his starry eyes wide as he talked about his date plans, his smile wide and giddy, his tone as sweet as honey as he talked about her.

you knew you shouldn’t villainize yuna– she was a nice girl, a very nice one. it wasn’t her fault you were still in love with jungwon, and it surely wasn’t her fault that she liked him. it’s not like you could choose who you could fall in love with.

you of all people would know.

so you smiled and nodded along as you walked him to class, listening to him go on and on about his plans. you finally settled with the fact then and there, that jungwon would never be yours again. you had to let go.

—--------

it has been six months since that day. the day that you had decided to give up. yuna and jungwon have been inseparable since then.

he kept to his word though; still studying with you after school, showing up when you needed him, hanging out together. sometimes yuna would tag along, which you didn’t mind. she was fun to be around.

you also didn’t mind being the third wheel when she was around, instead teasing the couple and even offering to take pictures for them. they were a lovely couple and they were seemingly happy– jungwon especially, and that was all that mattered.

the school year was coming to an end, and seeing as it was your senior year, people were throwing parties almost every weekend.

you went every once in a while, had some fun, did some underage drinking, even flirted with a couple of people.

tonight was the party though.

intak was throwing his first party of the year, and everyone knew his parties were legendary.

you sat in the uber with jungwon and yuna, anticipating the night before you. you were excited, to say the least. the last time you went to a party was a month ago, and you were ready to have fun. you even put on your best party outfit for tonight!

you arrived at intak’s house (or more like a mansion), and started to make your way inside until jungwon stopped you.

“wait! before we go in, i think we should go over some basic safety rules!” jungwon exclaimed.

you rolled your eyes with a small laugh as you replied, “only you would go over safety rules at a party.”

“i’m serious, y/n, really bad things could happen,” he shot back with a pointed expression.

“okay wonie, go ahead, we’re all ears,” yuna smiled supportively.

you ignored the slight heart ache at yuna using your old nickname for jungwon- the one you used when you were together.

get it together, y/n you thought. letting go, remember?

you instead smiled and nodded reassuringly at jungwon, who looked over at you to make sure you were paying attention.

he sighed before continuing, “okay, i won’t be doing any drinking so i can babysit you guys all night. if you need to use the bathroom give your drinks to me so i can watch them. and y/n, if you leave the party at any point, for any reason, please let me know first.”

“sir, yes sir,” you muttered.

“now let’s go have some fun!” yuna exclaimed, dragging the both of you by the wrists.

you finally entered the house, where there seemed to be everyone from your school. even kids who graduated last year were in attendance, and as you searched the party for a familiar face that wasn’t jungwon or yuna, intak strolled over, a wide smile on his face.

“you guys made it!” he shouted over the loud thumping of the music. he was wearing a letterman jacket with a white shirt underneath, and a pair of baggy straight legged jeans. the outfit looked so good on him that you had almost forgotten that you were talking to intak of all people.

“you look nice, y/n,” he grinned.

you would’ve had a crush on him if he didn’t flirt with every girl he laid eyes on, and it seemed like his victim of the night was you. but damn did he look good right now.

intak wasn’t a bad guy, he seemed harmless, not like the guys who wouldn’t take no for an answer. he just always flirted, with no intentions of making anything serious. most of the girls he talked to never knew the latter though.

but you thought it couldn’t hurt, you were here to have fun, and if flirting with intak was the way to do it, then so be it.

you saw jungwon step forward, about to tell intak to back off and go flirt with someone else, causing you to put your hand on his arm to stop him.

you also noticed how yuna examined the scene in front of her; jungwon trying to be your knight in shining armor, and you with your hand on his arm to stop him. her eyes narrowed slightly in thought as you dropped your hand and turned to intak.

“why don’t you get me a drink and then we can talk?” you smiled dazzlingly. you usually reserved smiles like that for when you wanted to flirt and get wasted, and just as usual, it worked like a charm.

“i’ll be right back then,” intak smiled, before making his way through the crowd of bodies in search of a drink for you.

“really, y/n, intak out of all people?” jungwon questioned, arms crossed.

“yeah, and what about it?” you replied, feeling slightly annoyed at his tone of voice. he had never acted this way towards you before, but you didn’t like it. it wasn’t his business who you flirted with. he talked to you like you were an idiot and you hated the thought of him looking down on you.

yuna awkwardly stood between the two of you, not wanting to be in the middle of your fight, but not wanting to go off by herself at a party filled with people she barely knew.

“‘what about it?’” jungwon mocked your voice in a high pitched tone. “you know how he is, don’t be dumb.”

“dumb? i’m here to have fun, jungwon, not to play third wheel again,” you snapped back. “and why does it matter, you’re not my boyfriend, and you’re not my brother, so it’s really none of your fucking business.”

yuna had been looking back and forth between you and jungwon, watching as you glared at each other, waiting for someone to say something. it was like watching a tennis match.

at that moment, intak arrived, back with a red solo cup in hand.

“a drink for the prettiest girl here,” he announced, handing the cup over to you.

“why thank you love,” you replied with an innocent smile as you looked over at jungwon, still glaring at you, his arms crossed against his chest.

ignoring him, you took a sip of the drink you were given, your face scrunching up at the bitter taste.

“hey intak, why don’t we go dance?” you asked, reaching for his hand.

“that sounds like fun,” he replied with a smile of his own before you led him to the dance floor, leaving an enraged jungwon, and a slightly annoyed yuna behind you.

—-----

yuna had seen the way jungwon looked at you. she might have been a bit oblivious at first, but as time went on and she spent more time with the two of you, it became more and more apparent– jungwon had never gotten over you.

at first yuna thought she could sway him, to get him to fall for her the way he fell for you. but it never worked. he looked at you like you were his own personal angel. no matter where you were, who you were with, how you looked, he was absolutely enraptured by you, and oh, how yuna wished he looked at her like that.

it had been fifty minutes since your small tussle, and yuna and jungwon sat outside, occupying two pool chairs as he angrily took sips of his water.

“it’s like she doesn’t even care, she just ran off with him knowing he’ll never want anything serious, knowing he’s gonna lead her on, and i swear when she comes crying to me, i’m gonna tell her ‘i told you’ right to her stupid dumb face,” he rambled, placing his bottle of water harder on the table than he intended to, spilling droplets in the process.

“well, she’s young and single, and she just wants to have fun baby, there’s nothing wrong with that,” yuna replied. “and she has a point, you’re not her brother or anything, so why do you care so much?”

jungwon looked up at yuna, not being able to ignore the bitter tone in her voice, “wait, you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“i’m not on anyone’s side, i’m just asking as your girlfriend why you care so much. because honestly, if i didn’t know any better, i would think that you were still in love with her,” yuna sighed, exasperated.

“i am not in love with her, i like you!” he exclaimed, way faster than he should have.

yuna wanted to believe him. she wanted to ignore every bit of doubt in her body and believe every lie he fed to her, but she couldn’t. not when she knew you loved him too. it was heartbreaking, really. to watch the person you love pine over someone else. but it was even worse knowing the feelings were reciprocated.

“don’t lie to me, jungwon,” she deadpanned, feeling her eyes start to water with tears of frustration. “i see the way you look at her, and i know for sure you haven’t gotten over her. you have never once looked at me the way you look at her, and if you like her, just say that. just say that and we can end things here, without having to make this any more heartbreaking than it already is.”

yuna didn’t want to cry. the last thing she wanted to do was cry, but the feelings of anger and embarrassment had overwhelmed her, causing a few traitorous tears to spill. she was angry at herself for letting it get this far, for falling in love with a boy that she knew would never love her back.

but she was also embarrassed. embarrassed that she had even tried to make an effort, that she had thought she could win him over.

she wiped her face with the back of her hand, only for more to spill out, a sob fighting for an escape from her quivering lips.

jungwon raised his hand to wipe the tears away for her, to cup her face and tell her everything would be okay and that he was sorry. but what was he sorry for? sorry for trying to keep you away from intak? or sorry that maybe yuna was right and he did still love you?

just as he opened his mouth to speak, you stumbled out, words slurring and barely able to walk as you stumbled your way over to them.

“hey guys!” you exclaimed, as a worried intak came rushing out the house behind you.

“oh god, y/n, are you okay?” jungwon asked, immediately walking over to your side to support your stumbling figure. yuna would have felt bitter over jungwon rushing to your side faster than he had ever run to hers. yet, despite the devil on her shoulder that told her to be petty, she instead felt worried for you. you could barely even stand up straight.

“what the fuck did you do to her?” jungwon asked, throwing an accusatory look at intak.

“nothing dude, i promise! she was the one who wanted to drink, she had like 5 drinks within the span of like, 10 minutes,” intak replied, panicked. “is she going to be okay? does she have a way to get home safely?”

jungwon looked from yuna to you, who was falling asleep just standing there.

“just take her home,” yuna sighed. “i’m not gonna make you choose because we all know who you’d choose every single time.”

“yuna it’s not like that,” jungwon groaned. “listen, i’ll bring her home, and then i’ll come over tomorrow and we can talk this out, okay? i promise.”

“okay, just get her home safe first,” yuna replied.

you might have been the biggest obstacle in her relationship, but you were still a nice girl, and you had technically done nothing wrong, so yuna had no reason to want to keep you and jungwon apart. you were also wasted as fuck and there was no way you would be able to get home by yourself without something horrible potentially happen to you.

jungwon grabbed his almost full water bottle from the table he was sitting at, muttering that he would “need it to sober you up”.

he gave yuna one last reassuring smile before he walked away, you on his back as he tried his best to carry you home.

yuna sighed as she watched you go. she felt like something bad would happen today, something worse than her argument with jungwon, and she wanted nothing else but to go home and cry.

all she could do was trust jungwon, even if she knew she already lost him, even if she knew she was never a contestant in the first place.

—------

jungwon almost did it.

he almost carried you all the way home, but his legs felt like they were gonna give out once he reached the park near your house, and he decided then and there that he needed a break.

he sat you on the playground set, sitting beside you with a huff.

you were awake by this point, taking long sips of the water bottle jungwon had given you. you wanted to sober up by the time you got home, but it wasn’t really working, with your words still slurring slightly and your mind all dizzy.

the two of you sat in silence as you gazed at the stars and jungwon thought of his argument with yuna.

maybe she was right.

even now, as he glanced over at you, studying the stars, his heart skipped a beat and he felt his face warm up.

“do you remember when you asked me to be your girlfriend in this park?” you chuckled. “we were so young then, it feels like forever ago.”

jungwon was thrown off by the sudden conversation starter, but still smiled, “yeah, i remember it very well. i felt like i was gonna throw up because i was so nervous.”

you turned your head to look at him and giggled as his smile grew wider.

“what, what are you laughing at?”

“nothing, i was just so in love with you then. i used to think that we would be together forever and ride off into the sunset in a carriage.”

jungwon inspected you as you talked, trying to decipher if there was any meaning behind your words or if it was just the liquor talking.

“i just thought we were some high school fling?” he half-joked as he nudged you with his shoulder. he didn’t want it to seem like he was serious if you were sobering up.

he felt his heart start to race as he stared at your slightly flushed face from the drinks you had, your hair fluttering as a soft breeze blew by. you were everything that jungwon had ever wanted, and here you were, telling him how much you used to love him.

wait, no, what the hell am i doing? jungwon thought to himself. it wasn’t fair to yuna. it was already unfair to her that he only started to date her to get over you. he thought that if he dated her long enough, he would stop loving you and love her instead.

and he genuinely thought it worked. fuck, he thought. i’m such a shitty person.

until he saw you with intak, flirting, dancing with him, laughing at his jokes, he had never felt so jealous in his life, and yuna had noticed. and she was upset, which was fair. what wasn’t fair was jungwon using her to get over you.

use. he hated the icky feeling that word gave him.

“i lied,” you muttered, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“what did you say?” jungwon asked, making sure that he had heard you right.

“i lied,” you repeated, eyes on everything but him. “i loved you, and i think i still do.”

your eyes finally met his as you continued, “you are everything to me, jungwon. i’ve been in love with you since forever, and i only agreed to break up because you said you wanted to.”

jungwon could feel his heart starting to beat faster as he searched your eyes for any hesitation, any sign that this was a lie, or some sort of joke. his heart beat so fast he felt like he was gonna explode as he looked into your eyes, so earnest and so genuine and so filled with love that he knew you had sobered up.

you reached for his hands in his lap, interlacing your fingers with his.

“i can’t keep this from you,” you breathed. “i love you, yang jungwon, and i know you’re dating yuna, but i just have to tell you that i love you, that i always have and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same. i don’t expect you to leave her for me or anything, but i can’t help it anymore. i love you, i love you, i love you.”

silence hung over the two of you as he tried to form a coherent sentence after your confession. it felt like suddenly his brain didn’t know how to make him talk, to make him say i love you too, or to make him do anything, really.

a minute passed, and then two as jungwon searched your eyes with the same desperation yours had– desperate to love and to be loved by the person sitting in front of you.

jungwon didn’t know who leaned closer first. he thought it was you but maybe it was him. he didn’t even feel like he was in control of his body as he leaned closer and closer, his hand moving to hold your face, searching your face for any hesitation, for any kind of doubt.

you were so close that he could smell the perfume you sprayed before you left your house and the drinks that you had earlier that night.

impatient, jungwon finally closed the gap between the two of you, your soft lips colliding with his. he could have kissed you forever, wanting to stay forever in time there. until realization hit him.

yuna.

he pulled away abruptly, your eyes still closed as you chased his lips with yours. he would have found it cute if he weren’t trying his best not to panic right now. he just kissed you. while he was still dating yuna.

he thought of the look on yuna’s face if she found out– the angry, hurt expression that she had at the party, and even worse, the tears. he would break the poor girl’s heart.

“i should go,” jungwon breathed, quickly standing up from his seat beside you. “it’s almost past my curfew.”

“wait, jungwon,” you said, grabbing onto the sleeve of his shirt before he could walk away. “i think we should talk about this before you go.”

“yeah, we can talk later,” he replied dismissively. “i just need some time to think.”

you opened your mouth to say something else– anything else to make him stay, but closed it as you saw he was already speed-walking in the direction of his house.

you thought that you would lose him forever after your breakup. you had almost lost jungwon once, and you were nearly positive that you won’t be so lucky to keep him this time.

you felt sick to your stomach, and you didn’t know if it was from the drinks or from the events that had just occurred, but nonetheless you felt nauseous.

you hunched over as you started to gag, your vomit flowing out of your mouth, tears streaming down your face.

you wiped your mouth with your sleeve, rinsing your mouth out with water as you started to tear up.

before you knew it, you felt sobs rising, your nose stuffed from crying, your throat getting dry from the sobbing. the embarrassment and sorrow was finally catching up to you– all of the years of repressed love you felt for jungwon, all of the embarrassment from him leaving after you confessed, embarrassment from being a homewrecker– it all came crashing down on you.

you couldn’t go home like this. you were sober enough to know that, with your tear streaked face, ruined makeup, and vomit smelling breath your parents would put two and two together.

your hands shakily reached for your phone in your back pocket, dialing your brother’s number and waiting for him to pick up with baited breath. your brother was your only hope.

“hello?”

“chan?” you breathed into the phone. “i need to sleepover at your place.”

—----

yuna hated this.

the waiting, the feeling of dread as she sat on her bed, awaiting jungwon’s arrival.

the fight that had ensued was horrible, but she believed she made a valid point. if he likes y/n so much he should just go be with her, she thought bitterly.

jungwon had texted her last night at around 1 in the morning, just to make sure she got home safe. yuna didn’t respond. she instead left him on read, still pissed off from the fight.

she used to get butterflies when he would send her texts to make sure she got home safe. but now she didn’t know if he did it because he liked her or if it was just out of common courtesy.

yuna was about to just walk to his house herself before she heard a knock on her door.

“hey it’s uh, me,” she heard jungwon’s muffled voice through the door. “is it okay if i come in?”

“yeah, let’s get this over with.”

she couldn’t meet his eyes as he walked in, striding over to the corner of her bed. yuna hated waiting, but she now felt dread as the pair sat in silence for a bit, the tension so thick you could cut it with a knife. she had sat nowhere near him.

usually she’d be cuddled into his side, but she instead opted to sit at the head of her bed, seemingly as far away from him as possible. she was worried that if she was too close to him, she’d crack; she’d look at his doe eyes and forgive him and that would ruin the entire point of her argument.

“so,” she cleared her throat, interrupting the silence. “did y/n get home safe?”

“yeah, she’s at her brother’s apartment. he texted me when she got there.”

“‘when she got there?’ did you not walk her there?”

“no, he picked her up from the park near our houses. but anyways, i have something important to tell you.”

yuna felt even more dread seeping into her as he finished his sentence. she should’ve seen this coming from the start. here it comes: the breakup.

“i kissed y/n last night.”

yuna’s eyes widened in surprise. she had expected the breakup, yes. she knew jungwon was emotionally cheating, but now he was physically cheating?

“wait, are you being serious right now?” she laughed in astonishment. she couldn’t believe the audacity of the man sitting in front of her.

“i know it’s bad. i feel horrible, because an amazing woman like you should never be treated as horrible as i’ve treated you, and i am so so sorry,” jungwon started, tearing up from how bad he felt. “all of the apologies in the world could never make up for how i’ve treated you. i’ve made you feel terrible and i’m just making it worse by breaking up with you to be with her.”

“i love y/n, yuna. and i’m sorry that i didn’t tell you, or that you had to find out for yourself before i even knew. you are so so perfect yuna-,”

“but i’m just not perfect for you?” she replied, tears starting to form as she breathed those words.

the silence that followed was more than enough to answer her question.

she hated this. she hated this so so much. but she didn’t hate you, or jungwon. she just hated how love worked, how she had to fall in love with the one boy who couldn’t love her back. she hated that she gave her heart away to a boy that was never going to belong to her– not fully.

she wanted to scream, to throw something, hell, maybe even hit him. she instead took a deep breath, composing herself before she said, “okay. go be with her then.”

jungwon looked over at her, wanting nothing but to comfort yuna. he may not be in love with her, but he did love her, and he still cared for her.

“i’m sorry, yuna,” jungwon said instead. “you’re an amazing girl, but you should never be anyone’s second choice, and i’m sorry for making you feel like mine.”

yuna couldn’t even look at him, fidgeting with the strings of the hoodie she wore.

“just leave, please,” she muttered.

she didn’t want him to see her cry, he had already broken her once, she didn’t want him to see her fall apart again.

with a guilty expression, jungwon hurried away, also not wanting to see her cry again. he felt gross. he felt disgusted with himself for treating her that way. he didn’t like the person he was with yuna, and he felt sick thinking about how heartbroken she was; how she was so hurt that she couldn’t even look at him.

—------

it has been two weeks since your kiss with jungwon, and you hadn’t heard a word from him since. not a single call or text, hell, he didn’t even acknowledge your existence when you walked by him in the halls.

you had seen yuna around, but seeing as jungwon wasn’t joined at her hip like he used to be, you assumed that things didn’t end quite so well between the two. knowing that you were the cause made you want to never show your face ever again, especially because of the dirty looks yuna’s friends have been giving you.

you were relieved it was the last day of the school year; you’d never have to see yuna again and feel the guilt at seeing the sadness in her eyes.

you walked into the bathroom, wanting to wash your hands after eating your lunch, when you saw yuna, touching up on her makeup in the mirror. she looked at you through the mirror above the sink, before going back to her makeup.

the tension was so thick you didn’t know if you should just leave or hide in a bathroom stall until she left.

“i’m not gonna bite, you know,” yuna chuckled.

you smiled back nervously as you started to make your way to the sink.

“yuna i’m really sorry,” you sighed, mustering whatever courage and dignity you had left.

“it’s okay,” yuna replied, finally meeting your gaze. “although it was wrong for you guys to have kissed, i saw the breakup coming from miles away. he was never mine to begin with.”

you were taken aback just by how calm she was, with the way she spoke those words with such elegance and grace. she had every right to be angry with you, to yell at you and call you a homewrecker.

“even if you did think you were going to break up, that still doesn’t excuse what i did, and i really am sorry,” you said, trying to project every feeling of sympathy and sincerity you could in that one sentence. “i’m not asking you to forgive me, or jungwon, but i just wanted to tell you that you really are a cool person, and you’ve always been so kind to me, even now. all of this for a boy, and he hasn’t even talked to me in the past two weeks.”

“wait, he hasn’t reached out to you at all?” yuna asked, confused. “i thought he would say something to you at least.”

“did he say he would?” you replied, confusion reaching you as well.

“no,” yuna replied, fixing her hair in the mirror. “i just assumed so because he’s in love with you.”

once again, you were stunned by her nonchalance. “he’s not in love with me.”

“don’t be silly,” yuna smiled softly. “i can’t tell if dating jungwon was the best or worst six months of my life, to be honest.”

“don’t get me wrong, he was a good boyfriend,” yuna backtracked quickly after seeing the guilt on your face. “he did the usual boyfriend stuff, and he really did try, but i could just always tell that his heart was always yours.”

you couldn’t meet yuna’s gaze as she said this, your face hot with shame. you felt so bad for her, and you didn’t quite know what to say in response.

“i’m sorry that things ended this way,” you finally said.

“it’s okay, it was gonna happen sooner or later,” yuna replied. “but if i’m right, then you should probably go talk to him, he’s probably going insane with guilt right now over me, and over you. bro’s got a lot on his plate.”

you gave a small chuckle at the last sentence, making yuna smile a bit.

“well thank you for the talk yuna, but i’ve gotta go. i think i need to go find jungwon.”

yuna felt her heart break a bit at the words, but she smiled anyways and said bye as she watched you leave the bathroom. yuna didn’t know if she was supposed to cry or feel happy for you and jungwon, but she did know that she was right. again. she knew his heart had always belonged to you. anyone could see that.

—--------

trying to find jungwon was easier than you expected. he was sitting on a swing, at the park that you became his, then wasn’t his anymore, and then confessed your love to him. there was so much that had happened at this park that it made your head hurt a bit just thinking about it.

“is it okay if i sit here?” you asked, motioning to the swing beside him.

“of course you can,” jungwon replied.

the two of you sat in silence.

“i don’t think we should be friends anymore,” you finally spoke up.

he jerked his head to look at you, shock coursing through him. “wait, why not?”

you took a deep breath before saying, “i can’t be friends with you anymore because i’m in love with you. there hasn’t been a moment since i’ve met you that i haven’t been.”

his heart skipped a beat at your words.

this was it, this is what you’d been waiting for since the day you laid eyes on jungwon. but you didn’t think it would go quite like this. you sat there for a moment as jungwon studied you, and you wished he would say something, anything.

“but did you ever consider how i felt?” he finally asked, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “have you ever considered that maybe i’ve felt the same way?”

you felt your breath catch in your throat as he continued, “i’ve seen you everyday since we were five when your family moved in next door. but i didn’t really see you until freshman year, sitting in class by the window, your hair flowing from the breeze that came through, doodling in your notebook instead of paying attention to the lesson. and when you caught me staring, you smiled and waved, and i swear i fell in love with you that day. that day, i knew my heart would always be yours.”

“so please,” jungwon pleaded. “please, do whatever you want with it. you could break it a million times over and it would still be yours.”

now this, this was exactly you had always dreamed of.

you couldn’t stop yourself from kissing him, trying to convey all the repressed love you’ve had for him for years through the kiss. you loved him. you loved every single part of jungwon, every flaw, every imperfection, everything that made him him.

“so does this mean we’re official?” jungwon grinned as he pulled away, a playful look in his eyes. you smiled back, feeling the heart eyes in your gaze and the way your heart melted just by looking at him.

“took you long enough.”

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pommedepersephone · 7 months

Text

Buck up, Hamlet! or how Aziraphale and Crowley's blocking helps communicate the evolution of their relationship

Can we talk about the blocking?

Specifically, I have been rewatching S1E3, one of my favorites. I love how the development of the relationship between Aziraphale and Crowley is shown through these little vignettes. There have been some great explorations of the costuming and dialogue, but what always strikes me is the BLOCKING. The way their placement and movements add such depth and tell the story of living as a queer person, having to communicate in coded language.

Through the episode, we get 4500 years of history - Eden, Mesopotamia, Golgatha, Rome and Wessex - to see Aziraphale and Crowley standing on their opposite sides. Aziraphale always on the right, Crowley always on the left. But after the Arrangement, their blocking changes drastically and becomes much more fluid and nuanced. Each scene after this is distinct but the scenes in at the Globe and the Bastille have the most development, and I find myself rewatching them A LOT. Here is what I see.

All the World's a Stage

This is the first meeting we see that isn’t a chance encounter, though the two try to stage it as such. It takes place in a theatre - and they are acting, playing their roles as demon and angel. Even the humans are complicit in this performance, with Shakespeare stepping in to address the two "in your roles as the audience." Oh, delicious.

But once it's been firmly established for anyone watching that they AREN'T friends, they DON'T know each other (cough cough) the following moves are clearly choreographed and have been played out many times before. Crowley sashays to the right, opening the dance, and Aziraphale accepts the invitation to dance with: “What do you want?”

“Why ever would you insinuate that I might possibly want something?” Crowley is just playing his role as cheeky demon offering up a temptation - but his position to the right of Aziraphale speaks to the fact that they are both very complicit in this performance.

“You are up to no good.” “Obviously. And you are up to good, I take it? Lots of good deeds?” Just standard character establishment, here.

“No rest for the, well, good." Ah, this line, the inversion of the well known idiom. Because the line between good and evil (and between angel and demon) maybe aren't so distinct, and Aziraphale acknowledges this with his words. We are moving into negotiations now. "I have to be in Edinburgh at the end of the week. A couple of blessings to do, and a minor miracle to perform. Apparently, I have to ride a horse.”

“Ah hard on the buttocks, horses. Major design flaw, if you ask me. I’m meant to be headed to Edinburgh too this week. Tempting a clan leader to steal some cattle.” The way Crowley moves AROUND Aziraphale here, intimate but also careful, watching for his reactions.

“Doesn’t sound like hard work.” Said with a little sideways look, because Aziraphale can see where this is going. And he's open to suggestion temptation.

“That was why I thought we should… well, bit of a waste of effort. Both of us going all the way to Scotland.”

“You cannot actually be suggesting what I infer you are implying?” A little bit of pretense, because Aziraphale has to pretend to be tempted, right?

Crowley presses. “Which is?” Because he is willing to play the part of tempting demon, but only if it is clear this is a farce, that this is indeed mutually agreeable. He is making sure they are doing the same dance.

"That one of us goes to Edinburgh and does... both. The blessing and the tempting."

Yes, they are doing the same dance, and what is left is the formality of concluding the dance - a moment of Aziraphale expressing his concern for Crowley, the coin toss - they both know how it ends. It's a ritual, an act of give and take.

But if it were ONLY the Arrangement, a simple quid pro quo, it would have ended there. It doesn't. Instead, the two offer each other a more intimate exchange - "It'd take a miracle to get people to come and see Hamlet."

Aziraphale doesn't even have to ask with words, just a look, and Crowley happily agrees. That is the final part of the dance, a small acknowledgement that this isn't just about making their jobs easier.

A Free Man in Paris

Paris is something else. This is a HUGE step beyond making sure that audiences like a show your angel is particularly fond of. This is a stolen dangerous moment, an OUTRAGEOUS flirtation that takes place outside of time, conducted in clear view of others but beyond their understanding. Isn’t that how their entire relationship is now conducted, hidden in plain view and so clearly affectionate?

And look, Aziraphale is BITCHY in this scene. Peak That Bitch. He's just purchased a bookshop, he's creating a very permanent place for himself here on earth - Aziraphale is feeling quite proud of himself. In fact, he's preening a bit that he has figured out how to exist, even in some small limited way, as himself within the confines of the system of Heaven. Buuuut he may have gone just a bit too far, and gotten himself in a spot of trouble. He has landed in a prison, threatened with "death" and stuck because he's already gotten a warning about being frivolous with his miracles. Oh jolly good that Crowley is here to save the day!

There is something raw being communicated here here, where both Aziraphale and Crowley are presenting themselves to the world in ways that are dangerous. Aziraphale's reaction tells us that Crowley's look is doing things to him, but also in a way that it is NOT socially appropriate. Aziraphale may have showed up in all the trappings of an English aristocrat, but here is Crowley as a French royal sympathizer. NEITHER of these are safe choices in the middle of a revolution. The costuming is so critical to fully appreciating this scene, so check out the amazing clothing overview with @cobragardens.

When Crowley arrives and stops time, he and Aziraphale find themselves situated facing one another, but angled so they aren’t facing straight on. Interestingly, from Crowley’s perspective, he is where he is supposed to be - the left of Aziraphale. But Aziraphale, from his perspective, is also to the left of Crowley. It was Aziraphale after all who initiated this situation, who put himself in danger by being too… Aziraphale. It’s dangerous to be yourself when you don’t fit into heteronormative social expectations, isn’t it? Still, the two keep up a very flirtatious banter as they discuss the situation, and Crowley maintains his very-intentionally-unbothered sitting position up until Aziraphale goes too far and thanks him for coming to his rescue.

While Crowley is also flirting with danger in the way he is dressed, he also didn't just pop over for a nibble dressed this way. And whatever he might have been up to was interrupted so he could rescue Aziraphale from the consequences of his own reckless authenticity. After removing the chains, Crowley pushes Aziraphale to reconsider his honest expression of himself in this exact place and time - for the sake of survival.

Aziraphale, willing to risk himself alone, rather quickly adopts a more acceptable appearance when it might impact Crowley. It is only after Aziraphale is safely disguised and returned to his proper place to the right of Crowley, ONLY then does Crowley restart time. They can go enjoy lunch now, with the proper precautions and masks in place.

For these two particular human-coded occult beings, this is also such an honest moment. They both showed up damn authentically - Aziraphale so fabulously ostentatious, focused on chasing down some pleasure (in this crepes) and Crowley wrapped in a clear protest against the current violence. Just as Aziraphale indicated with his "Oh good LORD" as he looked the demon up and down with obvious thirst, Crowley's request to Aziraphale to change his appearance and mask better is done in such a way that affirms that Crowley LIKES who Aziraphale is without the mask.

The scene is so playful on the surface, the body language and dialogue flirtatious. It's something so familiar to the queer experience, making light of the absolute danger that we must sometimes navigate just to exist. The more I watch it, the more obsessed I become.

A Spot of Bodysnatchin'

It is worth remembering that we didn't get this scene in S1.

I am going to go through it soon, because again they dance back and forth beautifully in this minisode, but suffice to say we all know... it didn't end well for Crowley.

No Walk in the Park

The moment in St. James Park is brief, and it wasn't until S2 and the meeting at Edinburgh that we got the full context for this meeting. But even without this, we can clearly see that things are weighing heavily on Crowley. The scene in the Bastille took place in a prison, with the threat of execution over their heads. The juxtaposition of this conversation taking place in a park - a place that is not only NOT inherently dangerous but looks lovely and welcoming - only highlights the change in Crowley's attitude. He still attempts to be playful, but he's afraid. Look at that paper, it's a bit crumpled, he's been carrying it around for a while.

They are firmly entrenched on their assigned sides for the entire conversation, both very stiff. It feels uncomfortable to watch. When Aziraphale refuses his request, and indicates whatever is between them is just "fraternizing" with the enemy, we get a glimpse of how fearful Crowley really is. In none of these flashbacks has Crowley ever spoken to Aziraphale with the anger we see here. When they part in anger, it feels wrong.

Take Me to Church

So there is a long break between meetings now. But then, ah, the church. The place Aziraphale realizes his feelings. (Look, if Michael says this is where Aziraphale realized he'd fallen in love, I am not here to argue.) What I love is that again we see Crowley and Aziraphale swapping sides. Crowley is here to save his wayward angel, AGAIN. Despite feeling the ill effects of walking on consecrated ground, Crowley is here to save his angel and defeat Nazis. It's definitely not remotely evil intentions.

It isn't like the Bastille, but some of the parallels exist - Aziraphale failing to grasp the risks of his actions. And the silliness of his little dance coupled with just how deadly serious this situation is harks back to their flirtations in the prison.

Crowley is to the right of Aziraphale from the time he arrives until the bomb drops. Then in the rubble, with the danger past, we see them on their assigned sides again. UNTIL Crowley hands Aziraphale the books he saved with a "little demonic miracle of my own." He then crosses Aziraphale, and we see the look of absolute adoration as the angel watches him walk away to the right.

Sweeeeeet baby Jesus, baby girl has it BAD.

Always Crashing in the Same Car

This extremely heartbreaking scene has been dissected, chewed over, breaking our little hearts with it's sharp pieces.

But it is purposeful that this scene took place in the Bentley. Being in the car is symbolic because Aziraphale is here making an offering to Crowley, in his space, something that he Aziraphale feels is WRONG which is highlighted by his placement to the left of Crowley. He is scared, acting against all his own desires, but he does it anyway because he cares for Crowley. It's simple, powerful placement. Need to hurt more? Yeah, thought so. Take a deeper look at the dialogue with @zionworkzs.

#good omens meta #look the blocking has me feeling things #just brilliant #i am very normal about them #neil gaiman #good omens #just theatre kid things

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seospicybin · 8 months

Text

TOO HOT TO HANDLE.

EXTRA HOT REUNION.

Felix x reader. (s)

Too Hot To Handle Masterlist.

Synopsis: You and Felix are having a Too Hot To Handle reunion with other contestants to catch up on the life after the retreat. (4,2k words)

Author's note: Some of you asking for a reunion so here it is! Also, happy birthday the blonde guy from Stray Kids x

Content warning: This is entirely a work of fiction and not affiliated with real Too Hot To Handle show.

HOST: Hello, everyone! I am your host for the Too Hot To Handle Extra Hot Reunion show! Hello, sexy people!

EVERYONE: [Claps] [cheers]

HOST: We'll be getting all the juicy details of the contestants of Too Hot To Handle season 1 and find out if your favorite couple is still together or not!

HOST: In the meantime, let's see if they still remember how many times they broke the rules!

LAURA: Wow! Honestly... A lot! [Chuckles]

ALEX: Indeed, we did a lot of things.

MAEVE: Just once and I don't regret it. At all!

YOU: Agree! [Thumbs up]

DANIEL: Oh, Laura touched someone's willy!

JAMIE: I didn't break enough rules.

KILLIAN: [laughs] I still remember your naughty little fingers, Felix!

FELIX: [laughs] [shows fingers to the camera]

COLE: I was too busy keeping you horn dogs from breaking the rules to break a rule.

HOST: These two girls prove that you can seek connections other than romantic ones. In this season we watched how their friendship blooms from a rule break.

HOST: Hello, my darlings!

MAEVE: Hey, gorgeous! [Waves]

YOU: Hi, babes!

HOST: We all know that the two of you are close before the kiss but what did you think that makes you guys click in the first place?

YOU: It's because we entered the villa together!

MAEVE: [Gasps] I almost forgot about that!

YOU: I was so nervous, it was my first time being in a show and front of a camera. I was grateful that they paired me up with someone and she's like... such a hottie.

MAEVE; Awww, thank you, babe!

YOU: And I think it's crazy that I met an Irish girl and we clicked right away.

MAEVE: It's meant to be!

HOST: Such a wonderful start to a relationship and both of you are hot and shared a hot kiss.

YOU: [Nods] Oh, yes.

MAEVE: [Blushes] [laughs]

HOST: So, how did the kiss happen?

YOU: I just wanted to kiss her. Really.

MAEVE: Babe, we agree to keep it a secret! [laughs]

YOU: [Laughs] I always think that Maeve is gorgeous, she's hot and no one can deny that yet she's always insecure about it.

MAEVE: [Quietly chuckles]

YOU: Frankly, a few times I wanted to shake her shoulders and snap her out of it because like, come on, she has nothing to be not confident about but instead of that, I kissed her.

MAEVE: Right! I'm a slow learner but with a kiss, I immediately get it.

HOST: Oh yes, a good snog always helps.

MAEVE: Right?

HOST: You mentioned in the show that someday you'll visit her in Ireland and have drinks together. Have you had the chance to do it?

YOU: [Nods] I already did.

MAEVE: She visited me last summer and we had so much fun.

YOU: We had tons of fun. We went from one pub to another and I obviously can't drink as much as Maeve— Oh, Killian!!!

MAEVE: [Covers face]

HOST: Do I smell something here? [Sniffs] Oh, it reeks of romance.

YOU: I'll leave that to Maeve to explain [Props hand under chin]

MAEVE: After the show we stayed in contact and we hung out a few times, there's something— I can't tell much for now. We want to take things slow.

HOST: It's better than nothing.

YOU: [leans close to the camera] [puts hands around your mouth] They're snogging, everyone!

HOST: Oh, kiss me I'm Irish indeed!

MAEVE: But still, our kiss is the best I've ever had.

HOST: Do you agree with that? Is Maeve still the best kisser?

YOU: Yes and yes and yes.

MAEVE: [Cheers] Eat that, Felix!

HOST: Do you girls have any plans? Upcoming girl's trip? Do you plan on sharing another kiss?

MAEVE: Another kiss for sure!

YOU: We want to do a lot of things and kissing is one of them [puckering lips]

MAEVE: [Blows kisses at you]

HOST: Nothing we love more than two girls wanting to kiss each other! True friendship goals right there!

HOST: We're usually able to guess which couple going to make it to the last but we didn't guess it right when they parted ways in the middle of the season. Tell us why it happened, Jamie!

JAMIE: [Rubs forehead] Uh... first thing first, I was sexually frustrated.

YOU: We all were!

JAMIE: I wanted to break the rules and she didn't so I got more frustrated [laughs]

YOU: That's true!

JAMIE: What a man can do?

YOU: A lot, actually! [Rolls eyes] [laughs]

HOST: Let it all out, honey! Let it out!

YOU: What was upsetting to me is that because I was about to open up to him and I was planning on breaking a rule with him but he [sighs] Well, it's your loss, Jamie [smirks]

JAMIE: It was my loss, I admit [hands up]

HOST: But are we good now? Are we on good terms or should we make a peace treaty right here, right now?

YOU: [Laughs]

JAMIE: We're good. We had dinner together the other night.

HOST: Is that true? Is it like... was it civil? Was it a peace offering?

YOU: Nah [shakes head] it was Cole, he told me he's in town and invited me to have dinner together. I would have said no if I knew Jamie was going to be there [gags] [laughs] I'm joking.

JAMIE: I did doubt she'd come if Cole had told her I'd be coming too.

YOU: I came because Cole said he'll pay for dinner [chuckles]

JAMIE: [Closes eyes] [flustered]

YOU: Jokes aside, we're good. We're friends.

JAMIE: Thank you! Everyone can stop coming at me now [laughs] thank you for clearing it up.

HOST: Oh, [wipes forehead] I was about to call for backup here but thank you for keeping this a peaceful reunion.

HOST: This is the moment you've been waiting for! They're my favorite couple in the show and it seems like they're everyone's favorite too. Hi, cuties!

FELIX: [Waves hand] Hi!

YOU: Hiya!

HOST: Let's catch up with you first, girl! How are you doing?

YOU: I've been doing great [smiles] I... uhm, I've been working hard on paying my debts and I'm debt-free now.

HOST: Woohoo! That's great!

YOU: Sad that I watched my money gone like that [laughs] but I'm relieved I don't have to think about it again.

HOST: We heard you're finishing fashion school. Is it true?

YOU: Yes, I am. I'm graduating next month!

HOST: [Claps] Oh, congratulations in advance, darling!

FELIX: [Claps] [smiles]

HOST: Aren't you proud of your girl, Felix?

FELIX: [Clears throat] Absolutely! She's been working hard so she deserves every good thing that comes to her.

YOU: [Coos] Thank you [smiles]

HOST: And how are things, Felix? How's life after the retreat?

FELIX: It felt weird to be back in the real world after the retreat. Moreover, I just feel like staying in the villa and not working [laughs]

HOST: Understandable!

FELIX: The only annoying thing about the retreat is Lana [chuckles]

HOST: Uh oh! Let's hope Lana didn't just hear it. For now, let's see some of your moments in the retreat!

YOU: Not you guys showing how I got fingered under the cover again [Facepalms]

HOST: I'm afraid it'll live forever in the TV history.

[Playing video of you and Felix in the retreat]

HOST: Getting flashbacks? How did you feel watching all that?

YOU: Wow. I mean looking back at it now, it feels like I did change. My friends and family kept saying something changed in me but I felt the same. I get it now.

HOST: How about you, Felix?

FELIX: Same. I was single when I joined the show and planned on staying single at the end of it.

HOST: Until the ultimate cockblock appeared?

FELIX: [Chuckles] Yes but the outcome is better than I expected.

HOST: Getting into the important questions now. Please fill in the blanks on what you guys did after the retreat is over.

YOU: [Sighs] [Chuckles] We stayed together for a week. Felix decided to come home and stayed over at my place and yeah... we just went at it.

HOST: Oh, straight into the juicy details, huh?

FELIX: [Laughs] We did like... seven times a day.

YOU: [Laughs] I felt— [inhales] I felt bad for my neighbor at that time.

HOST: Did you guys ahem... did all the things you guys wanted to do in a private suite?

YOU: [Tips head] [Slyly smiles]

FELIX: To be honest... [licks lips] not enough.

HOST: OH MY GOODNESS!

YOU: [Laughs] I had to change the bedsheets every few hours!

HOST: OH, YOU ANIMALS!

FELIX: You want the juicy details [smiles] [shrugs]

HOST: It's wow— It's not juicy, it's rather flooding in here. What happened after that?

YOU: Felix went back to Australia and I got busy working, school.

FELIX: [Nods] I went back to work right away.

HOST: [Blinks eyes] Nothing happened after that?

YOU: We spent New Year's together and after that, we just went back to our lives.

HOST: New Year was two months ago, babes! Wait, are you—

FELIX: We haven't met again after that.

HOST: Oh, no. I don't want to be the bearer of bad news to everyone but I have to ask, are you guys still together?

YOU: Well...

HOST: Hold that tongue and let me get back to you after I asked everyone about their favorite best moments!

HOST: What is your favorite best moment?

HEIDI: Fooling around with everyone in the pool.

LAURA: Definitely kissing Alex [laughs] No, I'm playing. I had fun doing the all-girls workshop that when I felt the closest to them.

YOU: What I miss the most now is just us girls talking in the dressing room.

KILLIAN: Felix and I working out by the beach together.

JAMIE: It must be the date I had with Mia. I never had a nice date like that.

JOSH: The dance we did in the last episode.

MAEVE: The first party we had and everyone's faces when they found out it was Too Hot To Handle.

ALEX: Goofing around with the boys in the bedroom.

FELIX: That time I was sweating so much from waiting for my girl to come back from the date.

COLE: Must be the times we spent worrying about the money [laughs]

HOST: We're back with our favorite couple and about to reveal the fate of their relationship. I'm going to ask you guys again. Are you guys still together?

YOU: The distance is... I guess we kind of having a hard time overcoming it. Other than that, we're both busy, Felix is always traveling for his job and I'm stuck here studying.

FELIX: My worries turned out to be true and we had our ups and downs.

HOST: Stop dragging this around. My heart can't take it.

FELIX: Well... Sorry, I just need to— [exits the frame]

HOST: Felix, where are you going?

YOU: [Looks to the side] [Felix appears in your frame]

HOST: OH?! You guys are—

YOU: [Nods] [Chuckles]

FELIX: I decided to move in with her.

HOST: [Clutches chest] You guys are so mean, I almost had a heart attack.

YOU: [Gets up from chair] [sits on Felix's lap]

FELIX: It's the only way for this to work. Being away from her, the distance... [sighs] it was draining so I sorted a few things, packed up, and moved in.

YOU: I just moved to a new apartment so the timing couldn't be more perfect.

HOST: Is the bedroom soundproofed, babe?

YOU: [Laughs] Not yet but now I plan on doing it.

HOST: You should because it seems to me like it's going to be super loud and busy in there.

FELIX: It's about to [smirks]

HOST: Please show us some love! Share a smooch with us for all of your fans out there.

FELIX: [Turns head] [kisses you on the lips]

HOST: Oh, great! I feel so single now.

YOU: Well, you can always join Too Hot To Handle [Laughs]

HOST: No, thank you. I enjoyed seeing my favorite couple is still all lovey-dovey. Felix, do you have anything to say before we end our interview?

FELIX: Yes. It was nice catching up with everyone and I'm happy to be here with my girlfriend but I'm afraid it's time to f—

HOST: Sorry, Felix, as much as we love a happy ending, we have to cut you off again. It's been fun catching up with all the hot guests from the first season of Too Hot To Handle. Hope to see you guys again next time and thank you for watching!

Felix shuts the laptop once the interview is over and puts his arms around you.

"That was fun," he murmurs close to your ear.

You turn your head to the side, letting him capture your lips into a kiss.

"The fun hasn't begun," you mutter against his lips and let go to continue talking, "yet."

He leans in for another kiss as you recline on his chest, his hands roaming around your clothed body and feeling you all over.

"You still make me hard," he seductively whispers into your ear.

When the kiss starts to get deeper and harder, you get up from his lap, unzipping your dress as you walk backward while maintaining eye contact with him.

The dress drops onto the floor and pools around your ankle, exposing the matching underwear you're wearing.

You kick the dress away and it lands next to his feet.

Felix resists picking it up and shakes his head, eyeing the piece of clothing you're wearing that he wants.

"Give it to me," he says with a deep, assertive voice that makes you tingle inside.

"Okay..." Your hand reaches to the back to unclasp your bra.

Sliding the straps down your shoulders, you take the bra off and throwing at him, landed right on his lap.

He hisses as he takes it but does nothing to it, "The other one!"

You shake your head and cup your breasts with your hands, "Nuh-uh! No!"

Felix glares at you and leans forward on his chair, "Give it to me!" He says with a deeper voice.

"Why don't you get it yourself?" You dare him with a sly smile.

Felix reclines on the chair, spreading his legs wide, and pokes his inner cheek with his tongue. It's like he's doing a photoshoot for a magazine.

"I have no other option then," he sighs and quickly gets up from the chair to chase after you.

You squeal as you make a run to the bedroom, but he catches you right before you can climb onto the bed.

"Got you!"

Felix wraps his arms around you and shuts you up with a kiss on your open mouth. His hands get busy roaming around your naked body as his kiss turns sloppy.

You turn around to face him and hook your leg over his, clinging to him as you return his eager kisses.

"Baby..." You whine.

He gently bites at your lower lip and slyly smiles, "What?"

You gently push him away and lay down on the bed, giving him the eyes as you say, "Take those clothes off for me."

Felix is too busy lusting over your almost naked body on the bed to hear what you said to him.

"Baby!" You call him again a little louder.

It works to snap him out of his possibly lewd daydream, "No time to take the clothes off," he says, then jumps onto the bed.

Felix likes it more if you’re the one taking his clothes off for him.

Your hands are swiftly unbuttoning his shirt while your mouth is busy returning his hard and deep kisses. You impatiently part it open once you're done unbuttoning them all.

Felix eventually has to be the one getting rid of it, reluctantly letting go of the kiss to do it. He hurls it across the room to hover above you again.

"I miss you," he earnestly says as he stares deeply into your eyes.

"Aww..." you coo and brush his already tousled hair, "I miss you too."

Your fingertips lightly trail his cheek dusted with freckles and cup his jaw, "Come, kiss me again!" you sweetly demand with an adorable pout.

He's more than happy to comply, pressing his lips on you again. His heart is shrunk from being away from you too long, but the kiss helps him fill it with warm feelings, and revives it back to life.

A part of him still can't believe that he's moving in with you and he can see you every day, kissing you as many times as he wants.

"I love you," he mutters as he breaks the kiss.

"I love you too," you say back with a smile that makes his heart rattle inside his chest.

"Baby, isn't it time for you to give me head?"

He breaks into laughter, "So impatient, huh?"

"Well, you've been away for long..." you meekly answer and put your legs around his waist to draw him closer.

You lowly giggle as you guide his hand down south, "A girl has her needs, you know."

He rubs over your clothed core and slyly grinning as he looks down at you, "Uh-huh?"

You nod and spread your legs wider for him, "You still make me wet," you say as you watch his hand slip into your underwear.

"Mmh..." He hums with a quick kiss on your neck.

Felix continues the trail of kisses down your neck and chest, biting on your nipples on his way down to kiss your abdomen.

You squirm as his mouth gets closer to where you want him to be. A moan falls out of your parted mouth as his mouth makes contact with your clothed cunt.

Oh, how he misses hearing the noises you make as his tongue lapping at your wetness. The taste of you quench his thirst yet he can't have enough.

Your hand tangles in his hair, tugging at it whenever the pleasure gets overwhelming and at the same time, telling him that he's doing the right thing.

There are so many things he wants to do but one pops out in his head at this moment. He sucks hard on your clit before letting it go.

Hastily, he kisses your mouth, ignoring his mouth drenched in your essence.

"Baby?"

"Yeah?" You breathlessly ask with wide eyes.

He places a slobbering kiss on your jaw before answering you, "Do you have anything we can play with?"

You shot him a surprised look, then lowly chuckle, "In the second drawer of the dresser."

A part of him still can't believe that he's moving in with you and he can see you every day, kissing you as many times as he wants.

"I love you," he mutters as he breaks the kiss.

"I love you too," you say back with a smile that makes his heart rattle inside his chest.

"Baby, isn't it time for you to give me head?"

He breaks into laughter, "So impatient, huh?"

"Well, you've been away for long..." you meekly answer and put your legs around his waist to draw him closer.

You lowly giggle as you guide his hand down south, "A girl has her needs, you know."

He rubs over your clothed core and slyly grinning as he looks down at you, "Uh-huh?"

You nod and spread your legs wider for him, "You still make me wet," you say as you watch his hand slip into your underwear.

"Mmh..." He hums with a quick kiss on your neck.

Felix continues the trail of kisses down your neck and chest, biting on your nipples on his way down to kiss your abdomen.

You squirm as his mouth gets closer to where you want him to be. A moan falls out of your parted mouth as his mouth makes contact with your clothed cunt.

Oh, how he misses hearing the noises you make as his tongue lapping at your wetness. The taste of you quench his thirst yet he can't have enough.

Your hand tangles in his hair, tugging at it whenever the pleasure gets overwhelming and at the same time, telling him that he's doing the right thing.

There are so many things he wants to do but one pops out in his head at this moment. He sucks hard on your clit before letting it go.

Hastily, he kisses your mouth, ignoring his mouth drenched in your essence.

"Baby?"

"Yeah?" You breathlessly ask with wide eyes.

He places a slobbering kiss on your jaw before answering you, "Do you have anything we can play with?"

You shot him a surprised and lowly chuckle, "In the second drawer of the dresser."

Nothing can compare to the feeling of entering you and the look on your face as you slowly take his length.

Felix is on cloud nine once his cock is fully buried inside you, he tenderly caresses your cheek and puts your hair to the side.

"Always taking me so well, mmh?" He coos at you.

You smile with your eyes closed as a response to his sweet praise.

It only gets better now that he's getting help from the vibrator he takes from your drawer. He turns it on and it's buzzing in his hand.

Slowly, he puts the vibrator on your clit and pays attention to the facial expression you make as a guide to please you.

It's the first time for him as well to use it on you and feel the vibration even though his cock is snug inside your velvety walls.

"Good, baby?" He asks.

You nod with a blissful smile on your face, squirming on the bed with moans spilling out of your parted mouth.

Felix pauses by turning off the vibrator and begins to slowly thrust into you at a steady pace.

Your eyes are screwed shut and your hands are gripping the sides of your pillow.

"Baby, oh..." You moan out loud.

As much as he wants to please you, he wants to take his time and give you the best of pleasure. He leans down to kiss you again, giving you a break by slowly making out with you.

"Faster, yeah?" He asks against your lips.

"Okay," you answer with your lips wet from the kisses.

He kisses you before getting into position, turning on the vibrator, and changing the speed settings.

It's getting more intense now and he can feel it as you tighten and flutter around him. You're sucking him deeper so that he can't help himself but draw his cock out of you and slowly slip it in.

You're a moaning mess, clawing at the bedsheets and squirming on the bed, "Oh, fu..." your curse goes into a breathless moan.

He can see the sheen of sweat covering your body and tears pooling in the corner of your eyes, overwhelmed by the stimulations he's doing to you.

"Close, baby?"

"Yeah, yeah," you repeatedly answer in a broken voice.

Felix decides to ditch the vibrator and puts all of his focus on you, he's hovering above you, giving you a minute to calm down.

"You feel so good, baby, oh..." he praises along with a hot kiss on your lips.

"Been dreaming of fucking you this good," he murmurs with his mouth planted on your neck.

You hold the nape of his neck and bring his head close for a passionate kiss that takes his breath away. You both gasp for air the second you let go.

"Make me feel good, baby," you whine, arching your back and intentionally clenching around him.

A raw groan rips out of his throat, Felix drops his head into your neck and gathers his senses, or else he'll lose it right there, right now.

"Ain't I making you feel good right now?" He asks.

"I want more," you reply with a naughty grin on your face.

As a boyfriend, Felix will always give you what you want and it happens that he wants the same thing too.

With a deep kiss and he plants his hands against the mattress, he starts thrusting into you again. He sets a steady pace at first, yet a moment later, he loses all control and picks up the speed.

It's getting more intense that he can't contain his grunts and he can feel your nails digging into the flesh on his back.

"Oh, I..." The rest of your words turn incoherent as he mercilessly pounds into you.

Felix lets himself go the second you reach your climax, using every bit of his senses left to get to his release. He crashes his mouth on you and you break the kiss not long after as you let out a loud moan.

He collapses onto you and you wrap your arms around him, reorganizing your breathing with your bodies rising and falling in sync.

"Imagine if we did all that in retreat," you murmur with a quick kiss on his bare shoulder.

Felix's laughs reverberate through your body as he's snuggled on top of you.

"We'd break not only Lana's rules," he props a hand against the mattress and lovingly kisses your lips.

"We'd also break Lana's bank."

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lovelyjj · 2 months

Text

When I Was Your Man

jj maybank x ex!reader ——> rafe cameron x reader

wc: 3.3k

lyrics in italics and in bold

Same bed but it feels just a little bit bigger now

Our song on the radio but it don't sound the same

When our friends talk about you, all it does is just tear me down

'Cause my heart breaks a little when I hear your name

JJ was still getting used to waking up without out you. The other side of his bed lay empty. He would wake up without your body heat and you snuggled next to him. Each morning he woke up he felt cold and entirely alone.

Today was no different, he stretched his arm out to the other side of the bed hoping to find a body. Instead he was met with cold sheets. The bed felt too large to be in, swallowing him whole.

JJ got up as he was going to hang out with the pogues today. After A few minutes he walked out of his room and met John B outside. The twinkie was waiting for the two of them.

John B and JJ hopped in the twinkie and started on the road to pick up Pope.

As John B was driving JJ's heart sunk as a familiar tune made its way on the radio. It was "Say You Won't Let Go." Your song.

John B made a motion to turn it up.

"You like this song right JJ?" John B inquired.

"No shut it off please." JJ pleaded.

John B was fiddling with the volume button that it wasn't turning off fast enough. JJ reached his hand over and slammed it off.

***flash back***

The radio hummed as the five of you ate at the wreck. Then one of your favorite songs came on through the radio.

"Dance with me JJ," you spoke standing up.

JJ got up as well and made his way over to you.

You took JJ's hands in yours and swung into him and then out. JJ slipped his hand around your waist and kept his other hand in yours.

The soft melody of "Say You Won't Let Go" rang in your ears. JJ spun you around and you smiled brightly at him.

JJ's heart skipped a beat when you looked at him like that. Your eyes sparkling and showing him love. Your bright smile that told him your happy with him.

Then you turned towards JJ and sang, "I wanna live with you even when we're ghosts. 'Cause you were always there for me when I needed you most."

The words you sang rang true as you sang them. The way JJ herd the way you meant what you were singing.

JJ continued to the next verse and mouthed, "I'm gonna love you till my lungs give out."

The two of you swayed as you danced. You were wrapped up in one another and slow dancing.

"This is our song now," You grinned.

"Of course baby it's ours," JJ responded.

You gave JJ a hug as your dancing came to an end. He secured his arms around you and squeezed tightly. He than proceeded to kiss your forehead.

***flashback ends***

JJ and the pogues were all back at the château outside enjoying each others company.

"What should we do today?" John B asked.

"I don't know we could go to the beach," Pope suggested.

"Y/N always loved the beach." Kiara reminded everyone.

At the mention of your name JJ froze. He felt his heart stutter. JJ hearing your name crushed him.

"Yeah she always loved looking at the waves," Sarah stated.

"I wish she was here with us," John B commented.

"Can we actually not talk about Y/N right now," JJ spoke.

"Right sorry JJ," John B apologized.

Everyone did end up going to the beach. JJ however looked glum. All his friends noticed his strange behavior but no one commented on it.

Truth be told JJ was thinking about you. He couldn't seem to get you off his mind. He was reminiscing about the times you had together. He missed you a lot and he had no idea what to do about it.

————

It all just sounds like ooh, ooh, ooh, hoo

Mm, too young, too dumb to realize

That I should have bought you flowers

And held your hand

Should have gave you all my hours

When I had the chance

Take you to every party 'cause all you wanted to do was dance

***flash back***

JJ wasn't stupid. He knew that having a catch as good as you was lucky. He also knew that in order to keep you he had to treat you right. He also had to do special things for you.

JJ was young and he didn't have that much money. Coming from the cut, he felt he wasn't worthy of your love. He was poor and came from nothing, therefore would not amount to anything. He sometimes felt like he didn't deserve you.

You were at the grocery store and when you first walked in there was a bunch of bouquets of flowers in buckets. "Oooh look how pretty!" you exclaimed.

You picked up a bunch of sunflowers and held them to your nose. You inhaled and JJ watched as you did so. He couldn't afford anything more than food. So as embarrassed as he was he took your hand and ushered you away from the roses and to the food aisles. "Come on let's go."

JJ dropped your hand once you reached the food aisle and didn't hold it again. You went to grab his hand when you were leaving the store but he put his hand in his pocket instead, silently dismissing you.

When you got back from the store you decided to hang out at the château. You and JJ were on the couch relaxing when you thought of some things to do together.

"Hey J, do you want to go have a picnic?"

"No not really," he replied.

"Ok do you want to go surfing?"

"No I got some stuff to work on actually, I'm gonna head out," JJ got up to stand and walked out without even kissing you goodbye.

————

A week later there was a party at the boneyard. You were really excited to go because you loved parties. You loved the atmosphere and the energy. You liked to mingle and talk and most of all dance drunkenly.

You were in the hammock at the château wondering what you were gonna wear to the party today when JJ approached you. You were happy to see your boyfriend and excited to spend time with him at the party.

"Hey baby, I have some bad news," JJ announced.

"What is it?"

"I can't take you to the party today."

"Why not?" You questioned.

"I have to help John B with something, it's really important and I'm really sorry." JJ expressed.

"Ok well can't I just go without you," you figured.

"What? Are you crazy?! No you can't. I won't be there to protect you from all the guys that hit on you. No way. Not happening." JJ seethed.

"It's not like I will accept their advances. I won't engage with them. I just want to dance," you replied.

"But what happens when guys come up behind you and take hold of your hips and have you grind on them," JJ raised a brow.

"Like that will ever happen," you countered.

"You never know."

"So there's no way in hell your letting me go to this party?" you asked again.

"Nope." JJ put his foot down, crossing his arms.

"Please go away so I don't tell you off."

JJ walked away without another word and you laid in the hammock wondering what you did to have not earned his trust.

You ended up not going to the party per JJ's wishes and you were sad about it. You ended up stuck in your room watching romantic comedies.

***flashback ends***

Now my baby's dancing

But she's dancing with another man

JJ was at the bonfire. He was dragged here by John B. He wasn't really in a party mood but he decided to get something to drink. JJ got a beer from the cooler and leaned against the wall assessing the party.

What he didn't except was to see was you dancing with Rafe. You were holding hands with Rafe and twirling from side to side. You were in your own little world. Rafe was swinging you in and out from his chest and dancing to the music.

JJ was about to spit fire. He was seething. Out of all the people you could be with you chose Rafe. JJ was no angel but he wasn't anything like Rafe. Rafe was evil, pond scum, terrible and JJ was protective, calm, laidback, and nice.

JJ watched you dance with Rafe with a scowl on his face. He wasn't happy. That should be him. He should be the one that has you in his arms. He should be the one making you laugh. He should be the one you choose. He should be the one you dance with.

Rafe didn't deserve you. No one was worthy enough for you except him. He hated seeing you dance with someone else. He thought back to when you wanted to go to a party and he said he wouldn't take you. He felt bad and guilty about it because you most likely wanted to dance with him.

JJ had half a mind to go over there and fight Rafe. He chose to stand there watching and biting his tongue. Then something happened that JJ didn't expect. Rafe grabbed your face and lowered his head to place his lips on yours.

JJ was fuming. How dare he kiss you in front of him. JJ wasn't thinking clearly maybe it was the alcohol coursing through his veins but he made his way over to where you and Rafe were.

JJ stepped up to the pair of you and tapped Rafe on the shoulder.

"What the hell is your problem?"

"My problem? You wanna know what my problem is oh I'll tell you my problem," JJ pointed an accusatory finger at Rafe.

Then JJ looked on your direction and saw your apprehensive face.

"JJ don't do this," you begged.

"I think you can cool it with the PDA," JJ grumbled.

""Or what?" Rafe stuck is tongue against his cheek.

"Or else i'll fight you." JJ crossed his arms and getting up in Rafe's face.

"Oh I'd love to see you try," Rafe responded.

"No we don't we don't need to see it," You gathered Rafe and tried to pull him in a different direction.

"Count your blessings JJ," Rafe spit out before walking off with you, arm thrown around your waist.

My pride, my ego, my needs, and my selfish ways

Caused a good strong woman like you to walk out my life

Now I never, never get to clean up the mess I made, oh

And that haunts me every time I close my eyes

***flashback***

The château was empty besides you and JJ. The other pogues were at the beach, leaving you two alone. The sun was setting dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in pink and orange.

The air was crisp and chilly. The breeze from the screen door drifted into the room making you shiver. It was almost the evening time and you were sat on the couch.

JJ was in the lounge chair next to you, smoking a blunt. There was something bothering you and JJ was oblivious to it. You sat there with an annoyed look on your face waiting for JJ to notice.

It wasn't until JJ was done with his blunt that he looked on your direction. He had been busy thinking about work. He hadn't noticed your irritation until now.

"What's the matter?" JJ asked.

You let out a big sigh. You were tired, so tired of putting up with JJ. You believed he wasn't treating you right. It was always all about him. What he wanted to do, where he wanted to go. He was always boasting about himself.

"Nothing JJ, I'm just tired," you responded.

"Well something must be bothering you if you keep looking at me like that," JJ reasoned.

"Alright fine, I'm annoyed at you for being so selfish all the time," you frowned.

"What do you mean?" JJ questioned.

"I mean it's like you don't even care about me anymore. Sometimes you hurt me and you don't even show remorse. You don't care how your behavior impacts me," you huffed.

"So you want to change who I am?" JJ was shocked. He didn't know where this was coming from. He thought everything was fine between you two. He didn't know this had been brewing for a while.

"No, I'm just saying I don't appreciate how you've been acting." You replied.

"Right because I've been so bad," JJ scoffed.

"I'm not trying to criticize you I'm trying to better our relationship by helping you realize the problem," you explained.

"Sounds like you are," JJ countered.

"Well i'm not."

"Whatever Y/N," JJ stated.

"JJ stop being a jerk and listen to me," you begged.

"What?" JJ looked at you like he was annoyed.

"I can't keep putting up with you," you said exasperated.

You got up, and walked outside fed up with JJ's attitude. JJ quickly followed you outside. He was determined to prove to you he was a good boyfriend.

"Y/N! Y/N! wait," JJ called out.

You spun around with a angry look on your face, "JJ I'm done I've had it I don't want to be with you anymore," you were done with his behavior lately and you needed your space.

"Y/N, please I can change, I'll do better," JJ pleaded.

"Those are just empty promises," you spat.

"No they aren't," JJ argued.

"JJ I give up. You know things haven't been good between us for a while. I think it's time to call it quits," you sadly said.

"But I still love you," JJ cried.

"I love you too, but I don't think that's enough anymore," you sighed.

"Goodbye JJ," you spoke softly.

As you turned around and started to walk off, a tear rolled down JJ's cheek. He knew it was over, you ended things and it was entirely his fault.

*****flashback ends*****

JJ was reflecting on your relationship. Ever since he lost you he been beating himself up. Every time he closes his eyes he sees your retreating figure leaving him.

JJ knew he made mistakes, he knew he was in the wrong and made a mess of things. He wanted to win you back desperately. But he also knew you were with Rafe now. You have moved on.

It all just sounds like ooh, ooh, ooh, hoo

Mm, too young, too dumb to realize

That I should have bought you flowers

And held your hand

Should have gave you all my hours

When I had the chance

Take you to every party 'cause all you wanted to do was dance

JJ thought about your relationship from the beginning to the end. It was truly magical. The beginning was glamorous and fun. The newness of it brought a sense of excitement.

Falling in love with you was one of the easiest things JJ could have done. You were perfect for him. Your relationship was filled with adventure and love along with joy.

When JJ first saw you he was immediately hooked on you. There was something about you that made him feel something in his chest. When you two started talking he was over the moon. Eventually since there was sparks between you two you started dating.

Dating you was like sunshine at the beach. Warm and inviting, along with happiness. It was all sunshine and rainbows for the most part. Towards the end is when everything went downhill. But JJ tried his best to be a good boyfriend for most of the relationship.

You were his drug. Without you he was nothing. You made his days better and brighter.

He got caught up in the highlights of the relationship that he didn’t realize he was sabotaging it.

JJ wished he bought you flowers. He wished he was more caring and didn’t act like a dumbass near the end of the relationship. He wished he gave you more attention instead of throwing himself into work.

Now my baby's dancing

But she's dancing with another man

Although it hurts

I'll be the first to say that I was wrong

Oh, I know I'm probably much too late

To try and apologize for my mistakes

But I just want you to know

JJ wanted to apologize for his actions. He felt bad for what happened and felt like he could of fought for you more.

How can he apologize when you are with Rafe. JJ doubts Rafe would let him even get close to you, which made JJ feel even worse.

JJ was replaying your break up in his head over and over. He wasn't over you and it had been months. He kept thinking there was something he could of said or did that would have prevented the break up.

At work at the country club, girls would come up to him and flirt with him. They would ask him out and of course he would turn them down. There was only one girl he wanted to go out with but he blew it.

JJ was depressed. He went to work and back to the château and slept most of the time he wasn't working. John B would try and get him to go out with him and hang out, to get out of the house but JJ turned him down every time.

JJ was also hurting. Even though it was his fault that everything went wrong he still loved you. He was lost without you. Other than sleeping and work he also started drinking and smoking a lot more. He was a hot mess.

I hope he buys you flowers

I hope he holds your hand

Give you all his hours

When he has the chance

Take you to every party

'Cause I remember how much you loved to dance

Do all the things I should have done

When I was your man

Do all the things I should have done

When I was your man

Rafe was in his kitchen when he saw that the mail came. You were still peacefully sleeping and Rafe didn't want to wake you. He took the stack of envelopes and looked through the mail.

It was mainly just bills but then he saw a letter addressed to him. He decided to open it, and what was inside he was not expecting.

Rafe,

I know you don't like me and that is valid but I feel that it's important for me to tell you these things. I also feel like you might throw this away so I encourage you to read this. Do it for Y/N if not for me. I know you care about her so I trust you will do the right thing.

Y/N is breathtaking. In every way. Treat her with love and kindness as well as respect everyday. I know I should have treated her better and it's something I will regret for the rest of my life.

I expect you to keep her happy. I don't want you to take what i'm saying lightly. Y/N deserves the world and more and if you can't give her that than move on. I assume you think you can give her the world so I have some very important tips.

She likes bubble baths with coconut scented products. She likes extra hot chamomile tea at night time. She likes to have bonfires at the beach after watching the sunset. She likes to slow dance in the kitchen. She likes getting her nails done.

You should get her flowers every once and a while because she lights up when she sees them. When she's mad she will shut you out but let her come to you. When she's sad be her shoulder to cry on. And ice cream also helps a lot. Her favorite is cookies n cream.

When you feel like she could use a break because she's a hard worker treat her to a spa day or something. She doesn't loose her temper often but when she does listen to her. She will most likely apologize first in arguments, but don't always let her do that.

She's scared of thunder so make sure to be attentive and extra kind when it's storming. Sometimes all she needs is reassurance so be there for her and reassure her as much as you can. Her love language is physical touch so be there for her in ways that support her needs.

Hold her hand in public, it makes her feel safe. When you are at a party she loves to dance so make sure you dance with her. When you feel like you're becoming possessive trust her she would never do anything to be disloyal.

Love her with your whole heart because she deserves it. Treat her like she's the only girl in the world. Treat her like a princess. I know I could have done a lot better as a boyfriend so she deserves better than me. And I hope to god for your sake that's you.

-JJ

Rafe was shocked. He decided not to tell you about the letter because he didn't want to bring up old wounds. So, he tucked the letter away and went to go cuddle into you.

273 notes · View notes

venus-haze · 1 year

Text

My Destruction Is an Hour Late (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: As a nameless, faceless administrative assistant, you never expected any members of The Seven to give you the time of day. In your year or so of working at Vought, Homelander’s taken a particular liking to you, always seeking you out to help him with whatever tasks or projects he can conjure up to take up as much of your time as possible. When you’re not available to help him after hours since you have a date planned, his interest in you proves to be far more than professional.

Note: Reader is a woman but no other descriptors are used. First time writing for Homelander so I hope it’s at least okay! Y/N naming convention isn’t used in this, Homelander only refers to you by pet names. This takes place between seasons 1 and 2. On the shorter side of what I usually write, but a lot happens in this. Title comes from one of my favorite lines from Buddy’s Rendezvous by Father John Misty. Do not interact if you are under 18 or if you post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: Homelander is a warning. Suspected murder, age gap (Homelander is in his 40s while the reader is 20s/30s), emotional manipulation, some dubcon which involves explicit depictions of food play and mommy kink. Do not interact if you are under 18.

Being part of the corporate machine wasn’t exactly what you’d dreamed of when you were a little girl, but working for Vought softened the blow. You could see the look in people’s eyes when you told them who your employer was, one of the first things strangers learned about you. Interest and envy punctuated every question, but what everyone wanted to know was ‘Have you ever met any of The Seven?’

You had, and you weren’t sure whether it was a good or bad thing that in your drive to keep the best paying job you’d ever had in an overpriced city like New York, you earned a reputation of reliability, which meant extra assignments but the overtime pay to go with it. One supe in particular was the source of most of your after hours work. Needless to say, he wasn’t pleased about the singular occasion when you were unavailable.

“I’m so sorry, sir,” you said. “I can’t tonight. I blocked off my time this evening on my calendar.”

“Yes, I saw that, but what could you possibly be doing that you can’t help me with this? You’re my go-to! I thought you were reliable, but this is—“

“I have a date,” you said softly.

His jaw clenched, and you could’ve sworn you saw a flash of red in his eyes for a brief moment as he glared at you. He couldn’t have been that angry that you wouldn’t stay late to help him, not when there were dozens of other low-level Vought employees around. You couldn’t accept jealousy as a possible motivation, perhaps possessiveness, you’d heard of his odd relationship with Madelyn Stilwell, who was killed a little over a month after Vought hired you.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you repeated weakly. “I can help tomorrow.”

He scoffed, clearly expecting you to offer to cancel your date to help him instead. Vought was one of the highest paying employers in the city, and you’d heard from your acquaintances in the HR department that the average job posting got well over 2,000 applicants on the low end. It wasn't uncommon for employees to work late nights here and there, but it seemed like so much of your time was consumed by Homelander. You’d foolishly volunteered to help him with something not long after you’d been hired, and as he said, you’d become his go-to. He intimidated you, but at times you found he could be almost sweet when it was just the two of you.

In all honesty, your social life had suffered immensely since you began working at Vought, and some of your friends had stopped the pretense of asking if you were free when they were planning to hang out, and you’d only become aware of the plans when you saw the Instagram stories after the fact. Restaurants, concerts, weekend trips—that used to be you. In a fit of loneliness and desperation one of the few nights you didn’t arrive back at your apartment and practically collapse asleep, you’d opened all of the dating apps you hadn’t touched in months, and quickly arranged a dinner date at your place with a nice enough guy named Jesse.

You sunk into your desk chair, an expensive ergonomic one he specifically had Ashley order for you because you’d complained of back pain once. Returning to your assignment at hand, you tried to ignore the eyes on you for declining Homelander’s request. At least five o’clock came sooner rather than later, and you rushed to gather your things, wanting to get out of the building as quickly as possible to avoid any further confrontations.

It was odd leaving Vought Tower when it was still light out. You’d almost gotten used to leaving for work and coming home in the dark. The train back to your apartment was unusually crowded, a consequence of actually leaving at rush hour. Jesse would be over at seven, leaving you just an hour and a half when you got back home to cook and get ready. You’d decided on lasagna, a dish easy to make but equally easy to impress with.

Multitasking dinner and fixing up your hair and makeup probably wasn’t the best idea you’d ever had, but before working at Vought, you loved to entertain. It’d been so long, though, you’d forgotten how involved it was. Despite nearly spilling pasta sauce on your simple yet classic black dress, you were a bit relieved when Jesse seemed to be running a few minutes late–until a few minutes turned into far more.

7:14 ‘If you need directions, let me know!’

7:36 ‘Hey, is everything okay?’

7:53 ‘Are you seriously ghosting me?’

At a few minutes past eight, you angrily typed a simple ‘Fuck you’ when a knock at the door startled you, and you nearly pressed send when you flinched. You had half a mind not to answer. Who the hell did he think he was showing up an hour late? Another impatient, more forceful knock echoed through your apartment and you rose to your feet, throwing your phone aside on the couch and storming over to the front door.

Opening it, you expected to see your less than punctual date in your doorway. Instead, the man at your door looked extremely out of place in your modest apartment building.

“Homelander?”

“Sorry I’m late,” he said. “Is that lasagna I smell? Yummy.”

“I—what are you doing here? Not that I’m not glad to see you, but—“

A drop of blood rolled from one of his gloved hands and onto the floor in the hallway. Your mind immediately raced to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he’d just apprehended some violent criminal. Although, in that case, he’d return to the tower right away and report the incident for the crime analytics team.

“I was just in the area and thought I’d stop by,” he said casually, as if he regularly came over to your place unannounced.

You nodded, moving out of the way for him to enter. “Of course, um, is everything okay?”

Vought kept all employee information in a database, and you were sure he had access to it and found your address that way. Still, it didn’t make any sense. You weren’t important on the Vought totem pole, and you didn’t feel like you and Homelander were all that close. Though, it seemed he knew far more about you than you could have anticipated.

The more you considered it, though, the timing, the convenience of his arrival in the absence of your date, not to mention the literal blood on his hands—you looked at him, wide-eyed at the man who just stepped foot in your home, not wanting to believe the worst but knowing it’d be dishonest otherwise.

Homelander grinned, his pearly white canines glistening like fangs beneath the soft lighting you’d carefully set up in your living room. “Now, why are you looking at me like I’m the big bad wolf?”

Your lip trembled. “It’s nothing.”

“Perfect! Then let’s eat,” he announced jovially. “I’m sure you’ve been waiting long enough.”

“Sure, make yourself at home,” you said.

You went into the kitchen to retrieve the lasagna from the oven, which you’d kept at a low temperature to keep the dish warm but not overcook. Grabbing fresh basil from the fridge, you garnished the pasta with a few leaves. Suddenly lasagna seemed like a stupid choice. Jesse probably would have appreciated it, but Homelander was used to food cooked by Vought’s staff of professional chefs. It was too simple, even if you had made the sauce yourself.

He glanced around at the decor in your apartment while you busied yourself in the kitchen. A framed print of Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart on your wall, a well-worn copy of Pride and Prejudice among the books stacked on your coffee table, assorted candles glowing softly in your dim apartment, “You’re quite the romantic, aren’t you?”

You could feel your face heat up at his correct observation, nodding bashfully as you set the tray of lasagna on the table. It didn’t help that in your excitement for the evening, you’d made a ‘first date playlist’ consisting of Elvis, Sinatra, Simone, and some other older artists that played softly from the speaker you had set on the counter. It wasn’t like you had expected Jesse to be the one, but you wanted to indulge yourself.

“Don’t be embarrassed. I am too, really,” he said, his voice oddly assuring, as if he weren’t saying it just to humor you. “Not many of us hopeless romantics around anymore.”

He had taken off his gloves since you’d gone into the kitchen, laying them neatly next to his plate. You ignored the small droplets of blood that had pooled on the table, focusing on making sure the serving of lasagna didn’t collapse into an unsightly mess on his plate. At least luck was on your side in that respect, as you nearly sighed in relief at the nice presentation. You were a bit less careful with your own serving before sitting down across from him.

Having Homelander eat your food felt more nerve-wracking than if Gordon Ramsay were over, it wasn’t like the latter could laser your kitchen table in half if he thought it was horrible.

“Goddamn, this is delicious. What’s that I taste in here?” He sounded genuine, not patronizing as you almost expected. Maybe he just didn’t eat lasagna very often.

“I seasoned the ricotta,” you said.

He snapped his fingers. “That’s it! I didn’t know you cook like this.”

“I love to cook, I just haven’t had much time recently.”

“Interesting what you learn about people outside of work.” He grimaced a bit when he took a sip of wine. That was on you and your tendency to buy cheap alcohol. You could stomach the subpar taste for the sake of the buzz, but as far as you knew, Homelander couldn’t get drunk, so there wasn’t even that benefit.

“I can get you something else to drink. I’m so sorry,” you said. “I have water, iced tea, I think some soda, too.”

He looked at your fridge and huffed, displeased. “You have half a bottle of flat Coke. I’ll take the tea.”

You could’ve given A-Train a run for his money with how fast you raced into the kitchen to pour Homelander a glass of iced tea and bring it back to him.

“Did you find someone to help you with that thing you mentioned earlier?” you asked as you handed him the drink.

He shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. “No, like you said, it can wait until tomorrow.”

You hummed in response, biting back a comment about how it didn’t seem like it just a few hours ago. Instead, you sat back down and focused on finishing the lasagna on your plate. Suddenly it seemed like far too much, but you powered through the rest of the meal you’d worked so hard to make as Homelander led most of the conversation, while you gave short responses, hoping he’d get the hint at how uncomfortable you were. If he did, he certainly didn’t care.

“So, what’s for dessert?” he asked when you collected the dirty plates from the table.

“Ice cream,” you answered. “I’ll get yours first.”

“Nonsense, we can share,” he said.

You merely nodded, disappearing into the kitchen to pull the small carton of vanilla ice cream from your freezer. The bowls in your cupboard seemed too pedestrian to serve Homelander in, until you remembered the plastic, diner-style ice cream cups you’d bought not long after you moved into your apartment. Carefully scooping the dessert into the cup, you were pleased with how professional it looked.

Ice cream and spoon in hand, you set both in front of Homelander, who looked from the treat to you. “Ooh, vanilla, such an under-appreciated flavor, don’t you think?”

“Yeah,” you answered, unwilling to admit you’d only bought it because it was on sale, and you had left over chocolate syrup from when you were on your brief home cafe kick.

You yelped when he pulled you onto his lap, bracing yourself by placing your hands on his chest. He seemed pleased at your reaction, smiling as he took a spoonful of ice cream and held it in front of your mouth.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he said.

You leaned in, opening your mouth and allowing him to feed the dessert to you. His smile widened when you swallowed.

“Okay, my turn,” he said cheerfully, ignoring the way your hand shook as you scooped up a generous amount of ice cream and put the spoon in his mouth.

The moan he let out as he sucked the ice cream off of the spoon was nothing short of sinful, and you felt ashamed that it stirred something in you. Sure, you found Homelander attractive and had a brief crush on him before coming to terms with the fact that it’d never happen, but this was just bizarre.

The odd ritual continued for another few agonizing minutes, and it was almost like he was going out of his way to see how much you would put up with before you’d protest or challenge him. You told yourself it was because you wanted to keep your job, and you were definitely afraid of him, but a small part of you that you tried to push deep into the recesses of your mind was starting to enjoy it.

“You know, I’m having a great time. We should do this more often,” he said, finally setting aside the half-empty cup.

You gulped. “Yeah, if you want to.”

“Do you not want to?”

“It’s not that, I just–I was expecting someone else tonight.”

“Right. Jesse,” he said, spitting the name like venom.

You’d never told Homelander your date’s name in the brief conversation you’d had with him about it back at the tower. There was no way he couldn’t hear your heart racing. If you didn’t calm down, you were sure your dinner was going to make an unwelcome reappearance.

“So, what was the plan after the romantic candle lit dinner? Just a kiss goodnight, or were you going to let him fuck you?” he asked, his voice flat as he pinned you in place with nothing more than a cold stare.

You balked at his wording. Not that you hadn’t heard him curse before, it was a shock in and of itself the first time he dropped the f-bomb in front of you. He’d never been so directly crass toward you, though. “I-I don’t—“

“You don’t put out on the first date?” he finished. “Really make ‘em work for it, huh?”

“I just don’t want to be that intimate with someone I don’t know well,” you answered, shifting uncomfortably in his lap.

“Good thing you know me like the back of your hand, right?”

“Mhm,” you hummed absentmindedly.

His fingers brushed one of the slinky spaghetti straps of your black dress, the caress reminding you of how easily he could break you if he wanted to. You'd seen him lift cars with his bare hands and not even break a sweat. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, then to the crook of your neck, then your cheek, until finally he captured your lips in a kiss that left you dizzy. You hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath until he forced your mouth open with his tongue.

Tangling your fingers in his hair in an attempt to steady yourself only encouraged him.

He pulled you closer so you were fully straddling him, and you knew despite the force with which he held your hips in place, he was holding back. You nearly choked on your own spit, or perhaps it was a mix of yours and his at this point. He was already pushing it with how much force you could handle, and he was holding back.

When he finally pulled away, you looked at him, glassy-eyed and lips surely in the process of bruising. You could feel his hardening cock through his suit as it pressed against your thighs. He stared at you, intense and uncomfortable for a few moments before his gaze wandered right next to your ass. He picked up the cup of melted ice cream with one hand, and tore open the front of your dress with the other, as if it were nothing more than tissue paper.

“You dress like such a little prude at work, but this–fuck,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Before you could respond, he poured some of the melted ice cream over your chest, and you gasped at the sensation of the cool liquid making contact with your skin. He watched, mesmerized as it rolled down your breasts, a droplet of vanilla hanging from one of your exposed nipples. He dipped his head, licking it gently before taking your breast in his mouth.

You whimpered as his teeth harshly grazed your nipple, needy and insatiable as he lapped up the sticky ice cream that’d begun to dry on your chest.

“Fuck, mommy,” he whined against your skin, throwing you for one hell of a loop.

He poured the rest of the vanilla ice cream on your chest, some of it landing on your already ruined dress. Throwing the cup aside without a second thought, he brought his attention to your other breast which he’d simply been groping until then. You nearly jumped when he grabbed your hand, threading your fingers through his hair. Oh god, he wanted you to pull him closer.

Hesitantly, you pushed his face against your breast, his moan practically vibrating through you. You kept your hand in his hair, nails scraping against his scalp as he relentlessly sucked and licked your breasts. The stimulation was almost too intense to be pleasurable, but the wetness between your legs said otherwise. You couldn’t hide that from a man like Homelander, your gut twisting at the realization he could probably smell your arousal.

He was fully hard now, and with how rough he was getting, you could tell he was close. Biting your sensitive lip, you slipped your hand between your bodies, rubbing his hard on through his suit.

“Oh fuck, mommy, don’t stop,” he moaned.

It felt almost wrong, seeing the most powerful superhero in the world so vulnerable, but you knew better. Despite the facade of submissiveness, he was in control.

“Are-are you close, baby?” you asked, hoping if you played the part, the less time you’d be subject to his troubling fetish.

“Yes,” he whined. “God, I’m–”

He squeezed your breast when he came, and if you weren’t sure it’d be bruised in the morning before, that had made you certain. You gasped in pain, tears rolling down your cheeks which he wiped away in his post-orgasm haze.

“You did so good. You did so fucking good, just like I knew you would,” he praised.

He picked you up like you were nothing, and in a way, you were nothing. Your body was already pushed to limits you’d never experienced before, and the night was far from over, as you’d find three hours and a broken box spring later. You weren’t sure at what point you’d fallen asleep–or maybe passed out was more like it–but when you awoke the next morning well past nine o’clock, your body was almost too sore to move as quickly as you needed it to.

“Good morning, babe,” Homelander greeted as you shuffled into the kitchen, leaning against the counter as if he owned the place.

“Homelander, I’m going to be late—“

“No you’re not. I already called in for you, let ‘em know you’re taking a sick day. We can keep the little white lie between us,” he said, with a mischievous smile and a wink.

“Oh,” was all you managed as you sat at the table, a wrapped breakfast sandwich and cup of coffee from the bagel shop you stopped in every morning was sitting neatly at your place. “You picked up breakfast?”

“It’s the least I can do after you made dinner last night. By the way, the people over there wanted me to tell you congrats when I let them know the good news.”

“Good news?”

“Your promotion,” he said, as if it were obvious. “You’ll be reporting directly to me from now on, take out all of the bureaucratic bullshit between us.”

“Thank you,” you said, voice shaky and uncertain.

He pursed his lips. “I’d expect a little more fucking enthusiasm, but we can work on that.”

“You’re right, I’m just still a little groggy is all,” you said, forcing a smile on your tired face. “Thank you, honey. I appreciate it.”

“There we go,” he said, his quick mood shift almost startling you as he leaned down to give you a kiss. “You know I’m always looking out for you, right, babe?”

You glanced at the dried blood on the other side of the table, where he’d been sitting the previous night. Before you could think too much about it, you widened the fake smile you were giving him. “Of course I do.”

#homelander x reader #the boys #homelander #the boys x reader #homelander imagine

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flanaganfilm · 1 year

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Hello and Howdy Mr. Mike Flanagan! I'm excited to see you here on our humble hellsite. I have so much to say and ask about your netflix shows but for the moment, I want to ask about Doctor Sleep because I enjoyed that movie immensely - it filled me with a pleasant sense of dread, which possibly makes no sense, or a lot of sense.

What was that creative process like? Reconciling book and movie canons, following Kubrick's legacy, working with Ewan and Rebecca and Zahn and everyone else. I'm obsessed with King adaptations and I'm just fascinated with Doctor Sleep.

Alright! Buckle up for yet another long read.

Thank you for your question, and for this opportunity to go back and talk about DOCTOR SLEEP. It's a very special film to me, and a very special time in my life as well.

It all started with a general meeting with Jon Berg at Warner Bros.

The meeting itself started pretty wild - Adrien Brody walked out of the office as I was waiting to go in. Jon introduced us and we chatted for a few minutes, and I was a little out of whack for the rest of the meeting because I had a very potent "wow that was Adrien Brody" buzz going.

We were meant to talk about DC Comics and see if there was anything to do there. I was really hoping to chat about a horror-slanted Clayface movie, and about my favorite superhero: Superman.

Neither conversation went very far. I had just finished GERALD'S GAME, and Jon was a King fan, so he asked about the production. And then he asked if I'd ever read Warners' script for DOCTOR SLEEP.

I had. In fact, I had tried very hard to get a meeting at the studio when the book was first published. Warners owned the rights to DOCTOR SLEEP outright - it was part of their deal going all the way back to THE SHINING - so they immediately began looking into movie options when the book was published. Akiva Goldsman had written a script, and it was one of the first projects I asked about when I signed with WME as a client years before. "That isn't going anywhere," they told me. "I don't think that movie gets made."

They had tried to get me the meeting anyway, but no one at Warners responded. I never got in the room.

But now, here I was. What did I have to lose at this point?

"I did read it," I said. "I'd take a different approach." Jon sat back and smiled. "I love the book, Rose is one of the great villains of all time," he said. I agreed. He probed. "What's wrong with the script?"

"I don't think it follows the book closely enough."

"What would you do?"

"I'd do the book. Streamline it, combine some characters, and you'd have to rethink the True Knot a bit. But otherwise, just do the book. As long as it's a three-hander between Danny, Abra and Rose it'll work. With one big asterisk."

"What's that?"

"I think you have to bring back the hotel. Kubrick's hotel, I mean."

Jon smiled wider. "Yeah, it's a bummer the hotel burned down. King goes out of his way at the start of the book to emphasize that - no Overlook, look no further."

This was my biggest gripe with the book.

I said "When I read the book, all I could see was Kubrick's hotel. I think you do the book as close as you possibly can, until the big fight at the end. Instead of it taking place in an empty field, let it be in the hotel."

Jon: "Do you think King will be upset if you change his ending? You know how feels about THE SHINING, right?"

Me: "What if we gave him THAT ending? What if we let Danny have Jack's ending? Jack sacrificed himself to save his family and destroy the Overlook - why not let Danny do that? Change the ending, sure, but give him the ending Kubrick denied him."

We shook hands, and I called my producing partner Trevor Macy to tell him it was a good general, but nothing was coming out of my DC meeting. By the time I'd made it back to my car, though, Jon had reached out to Stephen King and asked if he'd be interested in me taking a swing at it. Steve, who had enjoyed GERALD'S GAME, said yes.

I was immediately petrified when the call came in that they might want to engage me on a rewrite of DOCTOR SLEEP, with a directorial attachment. I'd have to rewrite the script from scratch, and I kind of felt like they were calling my bluff. But the deal was made and quite suddenly I was adapting DOCTOR SLEEP.

First order of business was to make King aware of what I intended to do. I had just established a tentative relationship with my hero over GERALD'S GAME, and the last thing - the very last thing in the world I ever wanted - was to upset him. We weren't in direct communication, we spoke through agents and emails at this point - but I had to make him aware of the Overlook thing.

I put together a proposal that outlined what I wanted to do - use Kubrick's visual language, and keep the Overlook standing as a setting for the final battle. The initial feedback we got was "no." King really, really didn't like Kubrick's film, and his priority was to adapt DOCTOR SLEEP - not to revisit THE SHINING.

I told him that if he didn't want me to do it, I wouldn't - I'd walk away from the movie before I made something he hated. But as a last ditch effort, I said "imagine the Overlook, decrepit and rotten. And imagine Dan Torrance having walk in to 'wake it up,' the lights coming on above his head as he walks the halls. He finds his way to the Gold Room. To the familiar bar, where an empty glass is waiting for him. And we see a familiar bartender ready to pour for him, saying 'good evening Mister Torrance.' What if that bartender is his father?"

After a bit of a delay, King got back to us. "Do it," he said.

Writing the script was tough. I immediately felt like I had stepped into a very unsafe space. "This is going to piss everybody off," I figured. Kubrick fans would be livid that the movie was being made. King fans might be angry that Kubrick's imagery was being homaged. There was no way to please everyone, so I set about writing the movie I wanted to see most.

It was a slightly nauseous feeling that would stay with me until the movie came out.

I sat down to write with a hardcover copy of DOCTOR SLEEP to my right, and a hardcover copy of THE SHINING to my left. I read both cover to cover, sticking post-its throughout the pages with ideas, or flagging lines of dialogue (or even prose) that I wanted to protect. I managed to put together a basic outline for the movie, which was intimidating and sprawling.

I finally finished the draft and sent it off to Warner Bros. and King at the same time. I was shooting THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE at the time, and thought it would take a long while and a few more iterations before SLEEP would go anywhere, if it ever did.

Warner Bros. shocked us all by coming back with a green light. I've been told that it was one of the fastest green lights in the recent history of the studio, and I believe it.

It happened so fast, in fact, that Steve hadn't read the script yet. I got an email from him on a Friday saying "I read the first half, and I absolutely love it - my son's getting married, so I'll pick it up in a week or so and finish it, but great so far!" I was nauseous... because I knew everything that King was likely to hate was in the second half.

When he finally did finish reading it, about a week later, he reached out and said:

"I think it's really good. In my experience, this is the kind of script studios don't make, because it's TOO good. Hopefully I'm wrong. But no matter how it turns out, thanks for treating me so well. - Steve"

I had the distinct pleasure of being able to write him back and tell him that Warner Bros. had just greenlit the movie. And we were off to the races.

The pressure was enormous. They were spending a lot of money on this movie, and because of the insane box office success of IT: CHAPTER ONE, expectations were very high.

We were given access to Kubrick's blueprints for the Overlook hotel set, which were still held at Warner Bros. While we set about rebuilding the sets, our attention turned to casting.

For Dan, we met with a handful of actors: Dan Stevens, Chris Evans, Matt Smith, and Jeremy Renner all came in to chat about the movie. But Ewan McGregor, who himself was eight years sober (just like Dan), was the obvious choice. "Let's not talk about the Shining yet," he said. "I want to talk about recovery." He was the guy.

For Rose the Hat, we talked with several actresses, including Anne Hathaway, Nicole Kidman, and my dear friend Karen Gillan - but Rebecca Ferguson knocked our socks off on a 90-minute zoom meeting, and the part was hers.

Finding Abra Stone was more difficult - we auditioned more than 900 girls for the part. We'd narrowed it down to a half-dozen very promising and successful young actresses, including Lulu Wilson (who I'd worked with several times before and adore), but Kyliegh Curran's self-tape audition rose to the very top of the pile. Ewan flew to Atlanta to read with our final picks, and when Kyliegh - who lived 15 minutes from our office, was local casting, and had never booked a job before - finished reading, he turned to us and said "I mean it's her, right?" It absolutely was.

When we cast her, we invited her back to the office after school one day to get oriented. The crew was so excited for her that they decorated the production office in her honor.

As the rest of the cast fell in, we started doing our camera tests and getting excited about what we were putting together. My feeling over overwhelming nausea only got stronger.

We started shooting in September of 2018. The shoot was long, but never exhausting. The cast and crew were uniformly pleasant and happy to be there, and after the soul-crushing slog that had been THE HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE, it was a relief to enjoy working again.

Kate was pregnant with our daughter Theo at the time. She visited as much as she could, but finally couldn't travel any more. Being away from Kate and our son Cody was hard, but I'm so grateful that we got to share some time on set together.

All things considered, this was a smooth shoot. But something happened for me while we were making it that would change the course of my life forever.

See, THE SHINING is about alcoholism. King wrote it while in the throes of his own addiction, and it is a novel about the anxiety he felt about what he could potentially do to his family if left unchecked. It's one of the reasons he was so upset with Kubrick's adaptation - all of that was taken away. This is a profoundly personal story for King.

When he wrote DOCTOR SLEEP, he was decades sober. The story of DOCTOR SLEEP is the story of recovery. This was something that Ewan knew very well, and why he was perfect for the part. He knew what the journey felt like. He wasn't alone - there were a number of cast and crew members on this shoot that were sober. In fact, just about all of the actors who played main characters were sober. I was still drinking at the time, though it had already become obviously problematic in my life, I hadn't taken any meaningful steps to change it.

This photograph was taken on 10/12/2018. This was taken on the day I got sober. I quit cold turkey, in the middle of production. I was clinging to vices at the time. Note not only the cigarette in my hand (I was smoking almost 2 packs a day), but the ash tray that had been rigged to the top of my viewfinder by the camera department. (I don't smoke anymore either, just about four years without cigs as well... and I still miss them.)

I had been writing about addiction for a decade. It was all over my work, going all the way back to ABSENTIA. I didn't realize just how much I was writing about myself, and I still can't believe it took me this long.

I vividly recall writing the scene between Dan and Jack at the bar. My wife pointed out to me after the fact that she could see it then, that something was changing in me when it came to drinking. Something was waking up, and I was processing a desperate need to sober up. That scene represents an internal conversation that is profoundly personal to me. It's still my favorite scene of the movie.

I've been sober now for over 4 years. DOCTOR SLEEP helped me finally make that decision. I finished the shoot sober, and came home to my life with a lot of uncertainty and insecurity. But with the unflinching support of my incredible wife, and some amazing friends, my life started to really blossom. It was pretty immediately evident that this was one of the best decisions I'll ever make.

Meanwhile, though, I had to finish DOCTOR SLEEP.

I LOVED the movie we'd made, but I was still terrified of what King would think of it - not to mention Kubrick's estate.

When we finished the cut, I flew to Bangor to screen the finished film for Steve. It was the first I'd meet him in person, and one of the most insanely exciting and humbling days of my life.

We watched the movie together, and I was acutely aware of each and every little reaction he had throughout.

(With Trevor Macy, my producing partner at Intrepid)

When the show as over, Steve turned to me and said "You did a beautiful job." And ultimately, he added that this film had made him warm up to the Kubrick movie as well.

A week later, we heard from Kubrick's estate that they had also loved the movie.

With King's blessing, and Kubrick's family, I felt that nausea finally subside. I said to Kate, "that's it. That's all that matters. Doesn't matter if the movie crashes and burns - we already won the important battle."

And then, the movie crashed and burned.

A group of us went to see it opening night at Arclight Hollywood (my favorite theater). We were just about the only people there. And I knew immediately that we were going to have a bad weekend.

The movie didn't perform very well. Warner Bros. was disappointed, and ended up scrapping the Dick Hallorann movie we were planning, as well as the Overlook Hotel prequel.

I was pretty crest-fallen. I'd spent years tossing and turning over whether audiences would be divided between the King and Kubrick camps. I'd been petrified that they'd be furious, venomous, run me out on a rail... I'd never considered that they'd be utterly disinterested. Apathy wasn't even on my radar.

Steve called me the Monday after opening weekend with some words of encouragement. "I remember when THE SHINING bombed," he said. "And SHAWSHANK. Give it some time. It'll find its audience. It's a really good movie."

That has turned out to be true. While it didn't set the world on fire theatrically, the movie has over-performed on VOD and streaming. And when Warner Bros. released the Directors Cut (I'm still so grateful that they did that), it popped even more.

So yes, to answer your question - the pressures were enormous. I hope this paints a little picture of what it was like. The biggest gift I got out of it, though, was sobriety.

I reached out to King a year later, on my first sober birthday. I hadn't told him I was sober, but it felt like time to do it. I got to thank him. "I never told you this, but I sobered up while we were shooting DOCTOR SLEEP, and I don't think I would have done it without your words. Living in that story, and marinading in the concepts of recovery and redemption made it possible. I just want to thank you."

He wrote back his congratulations, and then mentioned "as it happens, I'm off to celebrate 30 years myself. It only gets better and better."

And he is absolutely right.

DOCTOR SLEEP was the perfect project for me after the nightmare that was HAUNTING OF HILL HOUSE. I fell in love with making movies again. And I found a new and wonderful gear for my life. It has only made everything better - my marriage, my work, my experience walking around on planet earth. I'm so grateful for it.

When I think of DOCTOR SLEEP, I think of Ewan sitting at the bar and looking at the glass in his hand. "Man takes a drink, drink takes a drink... and then the drink takes the man. Ain't it so, dad."

Ewan understood those words better than I did when I typed them into the script. I understand them much better now.

There isn't a day that goes by that I'm not profoundly grateful for my time at the Overlook. And for myriad of ways my life has been changed because of it.

#doctor sleep #sobriety #behind the scenes #behind the scene photo #ewan mcgregor #stephen king #rebecca ferguson #grateful #warner bros #the shining #featured

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 9 months

Text

Liar part 2

Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, John Winchester x daughter!reader

Synopsis: John goes after you and Dean after you left him behind.

A/N: here’s part 2! I hadn’t planned on this, but I got some inspiration so here it is. Not really my favorite, but it’s alright.

Previously on:

"Dean? Why didn't you want me to go back to the room?"

"Can't you just trust me?"

"Don't say that, I do trust you, always. But I wanna know."

Dean tried his best to force a smile on his lips as he reached over and ruffled your hair.

"Doesn't matter sweetheart. What matters is, you're safe, and we're gonna be ok."

"What about dad?"

Dean forced himself to look over at you, and he felt a pang in his chest when he saw you. You were curled in on yourself, looking up at him. You looked so small.

Honey, I need you to just trust me. Please, can you do that for me?"

You didn't even hesitate.

"Ok Dean. I trust you."

You were true to your word. Over the next several days, Dean drove you as far away as possible from John, stopping every night at dingy motels. Each night while you slept, Dean searched for a job, trying to make this trip seem less aimless.

Even though you had no clue where you were going, or why Dean had left dad in the dust, you didn’t ask Dean about it again. He asked you to trust him, and he was incredibly proud to discover that you trusted him this much. Enough to leave dad for the time being, to travel across the country, and not ask him why, simply because he had asked you not to.

Your patience could not last forever, though, and that night when Dean informed you that you’d be driving through the night, you finally brought up the cursed topic.

“Dean?”

Dean turned down the music and glanced over at you.

“What’s up?”

“When are we gonna see dad again?”

Dean sighed. He knew this would have to come up eventually.

“I don’t know.”

“You can’t stay mad at him forever. He has to be worried about us.”

Dean shook his head, “It’s not about being mad at him.”

“Then what? What’s important enough to make you leave him behind?”

Dean just stared at you.

…

It took three weeks for John to track down his children. He sat in the motel parking lot, debating his options. He’d arrived there just after ten at night, and even though he’d found one of Dean’s aliases checked into a room, he didn’t see the Impala anywhere. Dean must’ve been out to a bar. Not that it mattered, because after weeks of searching John was just now realizing something; he had no clue what he was going to do.

He’d thought about reasoning with Dean, but he was kidding himself. Dean always obeyed John, always, but John had never seen him more determined than when he stormed out to take you away. Dean wouldn’t be giving up.

But John couldn’t either. He couldn’t let you stay with Dean and become weak. Being weak meant you were vulnerable, and being vulnerable meant you could die. He wouldn’t let that happen. And if that meant taking you on hunts, then so be it, and screw what Dean thought.

John finally stepped out of his car, his mind made up.

…

You were rudely awoken from your sleep by a loud knock at the door. After two days of barely any sleep in the Impala, you had decided to hit the hay early while Dean went out for a drink.

You figured he’d probably forgotten his key, so you rolled out of bed and went to open the door.

You most certainly weren’t expecting John to be standing there when you opened it.

“Dad,” you breathed, your face lighting up. You restrained yourself from going in for a hug after what happened last time, and instead decided to see what he did. If he was in a good mood, maybe he’d let you greet him properly, but if something was going on, if danger was near, then you figured it was better to let him get down to business.

“Hey kiddo,” he spared you a half smile before glancing around the room. “Dean’s gone, right?”

You frowned, hesitating before responding.

“Yeah, he went out for a drink.”

Why had it sounded like John wanted Dean to be gone?

“Great, get your stuff and let’s hit the road.”

Your instincts told you to obey, but you stayed rooted to the spot, too confused to listen.

“Without Dean?”

John rubbed a hand over his face, “Look, it’s been a long day, and I don’t want any arguments. Let’s go.”

“Are we gonna get Dean first?”

John’s patience was beginning to wear thin.

“No, no we’re not. Now get your stuff.”

Your stubbornness wasn’t wavering.

“I don’t understand. What about Dean?”

John gritted his teeth, “Dean has a job he needs to work on here. We’re going. Now I won’t tell you again, get your stuff.”

You snatched your bag up and tried to find a reason to stall.

You weren’t really sure why; after all, you had been following a chain of command your whole life. John told Dean what to do, Dean told you what to do, that’s the way it had always been. You trusted it. You trusted Dean and John. But now…

Now you were starting to wonder if you trusted John because you trusted Dean.

And now, after Dean had run off on John for who knew what reason, and John was telling you to leave Dean behind…

What did you do? Who did you trust?

“Kid,” you nearly flinched when John clapped a hand on your shoulder. “C’mon, time’s wasting.” His tone was softer now, and you felt your resolve slipping. Maybe Dean really wasn’t fighting with dad, maybe it really was just some job.

You could trust John. Dean trusted John, and you trusted Dean. Dean practically sung John’s praises, so he had to be safe.

You looked up at your father and smiled.

“Yeah ok. Let’s go.”

…

John drove through the night, parked in a clump of trees on the side of the road for a few hours sleep, and then drove until midnight before the two of you finally stopped at a motel.

“Get some sleep,” John instructed. “In the morning we’ve got a job.”

Your head jerked up, and you frowned.

“We? As in…I’m going?”

John grinned at you.

“Yeah. I think it’s about time for your first hunt. You’ve been training with Dean, right?”

You fidgeted nervously, “I mean…yeah, I know how to kill a lot of different types of monsters, and he showed me how to use a gun and a knife and-“

“Good,” John interrupted. “Then get some rest, tomorrow’s the day.”

“But…but I thought you and Dean thought I should wait.” At least that’s what Dean said.

John just shook his head, “Dean can think what he wants. But I think you’re ready.”

…

Dean wasn’t sure how frantic he should be. For about forty-five seconds, he’d been freaking out, before he saw the symbol you left on a scrap of paper on the dresser.

It was an upside-down J, the symbol he’d taught you to leave if dad stopped by while he was gone.

Years earlier

“Ok, so let’s go over it again.”

“Dean, this is stupid. What are these even for anyway?”

Dean scoffed, “It’s not stupid if something comes to get you while me and Sam are gone.”

“But if it gets me, how is this gonna help?”

“Look, kid. If something happens, and I get back to the hotel, and you aren’t here, I need to know why. If you need to be on your own for a little bit, there’s a symbol for that. If you get taken by cops, we’ll know where to look. If it’s humans, we’ll have a place to start. You get where I’m going with this?”

You sighed, “Yeah ok ok. I guess that makes sense. But how am I supposed to leave this symbol if-“

“Look, I’m not saying it’s a fool proof plan. Most likely you won’t get a chance to leave me a message, but if you do, you won’t have time to think about it. That’s why you need to memorize these symbols well, so that if you do get only a split second to give me a clue, you know how to do it.”

You nodded, glancing at the symbols again before smiling up at Dean.

“You know, you’re kinda smart sometimes.”

“Yeah well, I have my moments.”

Now

So John had you. Definitely not the end of the world, but there could be only one reason John would come in while Dean was gone and take you.

He wanted you to hunt.

Dean had never struggled with family loyalty like this before. His life had been simple for so long. Do what dad said, dad knew best, dad would protect the family.

But now dad wanted to put you in danger, and Dean knew you weren’t ready. You wouldn’t ever be ready.

It wasn’t your fault, you were a hard worker, and you would do whatever Dean said. You would train all day, every day, if Dean told you to. But hunting wasn’t an instinct for you, not the way it was for Sam and Dean.

Besides, even if it had been, Dean didn’t want you out there hunting until you were old enough to choose that life. He and Sam hadn’t had a choice, they’d grown up hunting and now they were stuck doing it. Dean wanted you to have a choice. If you chose hunting, then Dean would make sure you were trained enough for it. If you chose something else, well then you hadn’t made any enemies yet, so hopefully getting out would be an option for you.

But it wouldn’t be if John had anything to say about it. Not too long ago, Dean would’ve said that he’d do anything John told him to do.

Apparently he would’ve been wrong.

…

Every instinct in your body was screaming at you, begging with you, desperately pleading for you to just run. The plea was deafening.

But John yelled louder.

“Kill it!”

You were trying. You really were.

You backed away from the vampire that had cornered you, swinging your machete wildly but unable to get the vampire’s head off. Quite the contrary, you seemed to only be pissing him off.

You gave another, desperate swing, and the vampire grabbed your arm, twisting it until you had no choice but to drop your weapon.

He stooped to pick it up, still holding onto your arm.

“Now what were you planning on doing with this, huh?” He twisted it in his hand, and a cry of pain escaped you when the machete sliced a long, deep cut along your ribs. His iron grip was the only thing keeping you on your feet as you hunched over your injury.

You saw a flash of metal as the vampire lifted the machete to strike a fatal blow, most likely about to lob off your head.

You heard the swish of metal, and closed your eyes tightly so you wouldn’t have to watch. You hoped it wouldn’t hurt, that you would be dead instantly.

You waited. One. Two. Three.

You hesitantly opened your eyes when you felt the hand gripping you go slack. The vampire was at your feet. Or, most of him was. His head had rolled several feet away. You felt your stomach twist, and you cried out as a sharp pain in your ribs dropped you to your knees.

John’s strong arms lifted you up, and the two of you were silent as he half carried, half dragged you to the car. Of course the silence could only last so long, and not long after the door to the car slammed shut, the yelling started.

Dean or even Sam would’ve been completely prepared for John’s blowup, especially after a job went as wrong as this one did. You, however, were finally beginning to realize just how wrong you were in your view of your father.

You were finally beginning to realize just how much Dean had lied to you about him.

…

It didn’t take Dean long to track down John’s alias. Thankfully, he wasn’t trying too hard to hide. Dean figured that John was fine with being found, and was just assuming that Dean would “cool off” and listen to John. Well, Dean had no intention of changing his mind.

He pounded on the motel door, and waited a grand total of seventeen seconds before kicking it down.

John jerked his head up from where he was cleaning a knife, and Dean’s eyes swept right past him until he saw you, sitting on one of the hotel beds, a needle in your hand and blood dripping down an open wound across your ribs.

“Dean, what the-“

Dean ignored his father and rushed to you, his eyes going first to your wound and then to your face, his hands reaching up and grabbing your shoulders.

“Hey baby, are you ok?”

The second your eyes landed on your older brother, your whole body seemed to breathe a sigh of relief, and he could see in your eyes how happy you were to see him.

“Dean…” the one word seemed all you could manage, but John was well ready to make up for that.

“Dean, you can’t just come charging in here! You have a job-“

“This is my job!” Dean whipped around to face his father, his voice raising until he noticed you flinching out of the corner of his eye. He lowered his voice, placing a hand back on your shoulder before continuing. “Watching out for her, that’s my job, you’ve made that clear since the day you brought her home. So now, I’m gonna stitch her up, and I-“

“I told you to train her, not baby her! She can stitch her own wound, it’s about time she learned how!”

You swallowed as you stared down at the needle in your hand. You had stitched up Sam and Dean many times, but the idea of putting the needle into your own skin was…sickening, to say the least.

Dean gritted his teeth, “She shouldn’t have to. I can take care of her.“

“You can’t-“

“And the rest of this conversation can wait until your daughter isn’t bleeding out on the bed!”

Surprisingly, John fell silent as Dean began getting you ready to be stitched up.

“Lay back,” he instructed as he sterilized the needle. You did as he said, nervously watching his hands as he worked. He smiled down at you.

“You should probably look somewhere else. It’ll hurt worse if you watch.”

You obeyed, turning your eyes from your wound to Dean’s face. He focused on his stitching at first, but once he had started he was able to focus more on you.

“So, what’d you hunt?”

“Vamps.” Your voice was quiet, and Dean could hear the barely concealed pain behind it.

“Yeesh, that must’ve been hard. Aren’t you Team Edward?”

You giggled, which made Dean’s job harder, but it was worth it to distract you from the pain.

“Hey now, I told you I watched the Twilight movies ironically.”

“Uh-huh.”

“They’re fun to make fun of!”

“Oh I’m sure princess. So, how many did you take out?”

You grinned, “Two.”

“Nice, Edward and his brother.”

“Sister, actually. And you know that thing about vamps always being hot?”

“Yeah?”

“Total myth, I mean this lady was ugly even before her head was rolling across the floor.”

Dean laughed, and you joined in before stopping with a gasp of pain.

“Ok, yeah maybe laughter was a bad idea.” Dean returned to silence for several seconds as he worked on your stitches. The tension in the room was palpable, but Dean finished the stitches quickly before John could start a fight again.

“Alright, you’re all set. Now go grab a clean shirt and change in the bathroom.” Dean helped you up and pulled you into a hug, kissing your head and whispering so John wouldn’t hear; “stay in there until I come get you, ok?”

You gave him a barely perceptible nod as you grabbed a clean shirt and disappeared into the small motel bathroom, closing the door behind you.

“So,” Dean sighed, facing his father. “I heard you, before I came in. You were yelling at her. Why? What happened on that hunt?” He stepped towards his father, “And more importantly, how could you let her get hurt? Why weren’t you watching her? This was her first hunt, anything could’ve happened!”

“How could I let her? Watch your tone, boy, I didn’t let anything happen. She was useless out there! I thought you said you trained her!”

“I didn’t train her to hunt!”

John froze.

“What?”

Dean clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to diffuse his anger at least a little.

“I didn’t train her to hunt.”

“But she said-“

“I taught her how to use weapons, how to identify monsters, but I didn’t teach her how to hunt. I taught her self defense.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, that if she gets attacked, she can defend herself, that’s it! I didn’t show her how to hunt, because she’s too young to be in this life! But if something or someone goes after her, she’ll be fine.”

John scoffed, “Well all your coddling has done is insured that she can’t hold her ground in a fight!”

“You’re right!” Dean exploded, “And she shouldn’t have to! I taught her all the best ways to get to safety!”

“She needs to know how-“

“How to what? To kill?” Dean was almost nose-to-nose with John. “No. She doesn’t. I’m not gonna teach her to kill. I’m gonna teach her to survive.”

Dean brushed past John and went to the bathroom door, knocking lightly on it.

“Honey? You ready to come out?”

You opened the door slowly, and Dean didn’t miss the way your head was lowered just enough for your hair to veil your face. Dean placed one hand at the back of your head, and with the other one he gently lifted your chin up.

You sniffled, trying—and failing—to blink your tears away. Dean pulled you into a hug, ignoring John’s scoff from the corner of the room.

“You did your best today, kid,” Dean’s voice was soft and quiet, and you pulled yourself closer to him, comforted by his tone. “And you’re never gonna do that again, ok? I’m never gonna make you hunt.”

“Hold on,” John would not stay silent anymore. “Dean, you can’t keep her out of this, it’s our lives.”

“Not hers!” Dean pulled away from you, but kept a hand on your shoulder to keep you close. “Not if she doesn’t want it. I trained her the way I did for a reason; if she wants to hunt when she’s older, then I’ll train her to the next level. If she doesn’t, then she knows enough to defend herself, but she hasn’t made any enemies. You’re not gonna mess that up, you aren’t gonna drag her into this life with no choice.”

John scoffed, “Well then why don’t we ask her?” John turned his laser beam face to you, “Baby, I want you to come with me. I’ll show you how to hunt, properly this time, since Dean won’t.”

You stared at him for a long moment.

This was your father, the man you’d looked up to for your whole life. The one Dean had looked up to for as long as you could remember.

But then you looked at the machete on the table, remembered how wrong it had felt in your hands. How scared you’d been going up against those vamps. How much you just wanted Dean to come and get you and take you back to the motel. How wrong it had felt to kill those vampires, to watch their heads roll across the floor, even though they’d tried to kill you.

You knew more than anything that you didn’t want to hunt. That wasn’t the life for you. But it was more than that.

John was asking you to choose him over Dean. This was not a situation you had ever imagined you would be in, and yet you knew instantly what choice to make.

There were many reasons for your choice, but one memory came to your mind as one of the best reasons.

Years ago

“He’s not coming, is he?”

Dean threw an arm around your shoulder, trying desperately to lighten the mood.

“I’m sure things just got a little hairy with that wendigo. He’ll be back in a day or so, though.”

“I think he might’ve forgotten.” You weren’t about to tell Dean, but that morning you had called John, desperate to hear his voice on your birthday. He had answered, surprisingly, but as soon as he found out that there was no emergency, he’d hung up with a simple, “I’ll be home soon…ish.”

He hadn’t said “happy birthday”, or “sorry I couldn’t be there”, or anything like that. You were almost sure he’d forgotten.

“Of course he didn’t forget,” Dean assured you, with so much conviction that you were starting to believe him. If Dean thought that John was so great, then surely he was right. Dean was always right, and he wouldn’t lie to you.

“Tell you what,” Dean continued. “Go sit in Baby, I’ve got a surprise for you.”

You obeyed eagerly, and as soon as you sat in the passengers seat, Dean handed you a small parcel wrapped in a newspaper.

You tore it open to reveal a cassette tape.

“What’s-“

“It’s a mixtape,” Dean was grinning from ear to ear. “It’s got all your favorites on it.”

You giggled, “what happened to driver picks-“

“Eh eh, House rules still stand, but, if you’re lucky, or it’s a special occasion, I might just let you pop that in once in a while.”

You grinned up at Dean.

“Special occasions…like my birthday?”

Dean laughed, “Stick it in, birthday girl! I wanna make sure I got all your favorites on there.”

Two hours and a lot of karaoke later, you assured Dean that he had in fact got all of your favorites on there, and he smiled at you for a moment before-

“You wanna play them again?”

Now

“No.”

John stared at you.

“What?”

You swallowed hard, nervously fingering the sleeve of Dean’s jacket as you stared back at your father.

“No. I don’t wanna hunt, and I want to be with Dean.”

“You…” John seemed at a loss for words. He couldn’t comprehend his baby girl picking her brother over her father.

“I want Dean.”

Even though your voice was quiet, the authority and surety in it was undeniable.

John didn’t speak. He simply grabbed his bag and walked out the door, leaving his children alone as he drove off.

“He’ll be back,” Dean assured you, and even though neither of you knew it at the time, he was right. John might not always be right about family, but he wouldn’t abandon them.

“Ok,” Dean was surprised at your tone. You didn’t sound as though you really cared if John came back.

“Are you ok?” Dean asked, sitting down on the bed so he was closer to eye level with you.

You sat down next to him and curled yourself into his side.

“I am now.”

Eventually, Dean laid back onto the bed, and you went with him, and the two of you laid there for a while, wrapped up together in a contented state. Dean was just about to drift off to sleep when you spoke.

“You lied to me. About dad.”

Dean’s voice came out in a sigh, and his chest rumbled under your head as he spoke

“I know.”

“Dean?”

Dean hummed.

“Thank you.”

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