My “Works” Masterpost: (Everchanging, always growing!)
Someone asked me for a master post of all my fics so here they are! This post will be updated as I write them.
Page 2
Also feel free to shoot me an ask with an idea if you have one!!! ♥
ETA 7/4/2025:
I’ve added more people I write for, I added a second page and switched up the layout!
Who I Write For: [All are x Reader]
Rafael Barba (SVU)
Nevada Ramirez (”Trouble In The Heights”)
Jonas Nightingale (”Leap Of Faith”)
Abel Plenkov/The Ripper (”My Soul To Take”)
Really any Raul Esparza Character
Steve Harrington
Eddie Munson
Date Everything! (PC Game)
SMOSH Cast
Maybe someone if you convince me to.
Series In Progress:
"Words Fail" [Rafael Barba x Reader]
“Summer Of ‘87″ [Eddie Munson x Reader]
“No” [Damien Haas x Reader]
Completed Series
Eddie Munson x Reader
“Spring Break ‘86″
Rafael Barba x Reader
"...So I Married A Monster" *A William Lewis/Rafael Barba x You Story, Read At Your Own Discretion*
“Build Me Up Buttercup”
“Helpless”
“Return To Sender”
“My Fairy Abogado “
“Caught In The Storm”
“Clueless”
“Black Magic”
“Doppelganger” *Sequel To Black Magic* Rafael x Reader and Nevada Ramirez x Reader {Note: This fic deals with dark situations like sexual assault and abuse.]
"Not My Yacht" {A William Lewis fic, this fic deals with dark situations like torture and sexual assault. But a happy ending!}
"Weird Secret Friends"
“Betrayed”
One Shots:
Eddie Munson x Reader
“Rocky”
“Happy Anniversary”
“The Gauntlet”
“Cool Off”
“Wingman“
“New Kid”
“Beetlejuice”
Rafael Barba x Reader
“Todos Las Dias De Mi Vida”
“Warrior” (Sequel To “Helpless”)
“You Are My Exception”
“If You Like Pina Coladas”
“God I Love Weddings!”
“The Story” (Barson)
“Paper Rings”
“Never Leave You Again”
“Your Soliloquy”
“The Man Of Your Dreams”
“Because I Can”
"Trick Or Treat"
"Tag"
“Holiday Party [NSFW]
“A Boyfriend For Christmas”
“A Christmas Miracle {ANGST}
“Christmas Bake Off”
“Buttons”
“A Helping Hand” (NSFW)
“Say You Want Me, And I’m Yours”
“New Year’s Eve”
Miscellaneous One Shots:
“Dancing On My Own” (Rollisi)
“The Good Lord’s Touch” (Jonas Nightingale x Reader, LOF)
"Reunion" (An "Atypical" Sam/Paige OS)
"I'm Yours In Every Way You'll Have Me" (Regina Mills x Reader, *OUAT*)
“Please Don’t Leave Me “ (Jerry The Junk Drawer x Reader, *DE*
Nevada Ramirez/Reader One Shots:
“Feliz Año Nuevo”
“Christmas At Rockefeller Center”
"Mi Rey"
“Fernando”
“Super Bowl Sunday”
Ripper/Abel Plenkov x Reader One Shots:
"I Hate Mondays" (NSFW)
"Happy Anniversary"
"Dancing With The Devil"
Anon Drabble Requests [Rafael Barba x Reader]
“Sick Day”
“La Loba”
“Lunch Date”
“Secret Agent”
“Cupcake Apologies”
“I Love....’
“Going Live!”
“Merry Christmas Darling”
“Driver’s License”
“Take Your Daughter To Work Day”
“Rafaella”
“Bad Day”
“Career Day”
“Good Morning”
“Jealous”
“Cake”
“Law And Order”
“Cupcake Congrats”
“Caught” (G Rated)
“Caught” (NSFW)
“McBarba”
“Cookies”
“Yelina”
“Only You”
“ Cierras ya tus ojitos”
“Doodling”
“Coffee Date”
“Breakfast In Bed”
“Hey, Get Back Here And Cuddle Me!”
Three’s A Crowd” *NSFW* (Barisi x you)
“Love Handles”
"All Of You" (NSFW)
"Bar Fight"
"Cappuccino Man"
"Pumpkin Spice Lattes"
"Bar Bet" (Nick Amaro/Reader Rafa/Reader)
"Law School"
"Stole My Heart" (William Lewis/Reader OS) *Don't JUDGE Me!*
"Death Do You Part" (ANGSTY OS/Death)
"Princess Prude" *High School AU*
"You Broke My Heart And All You Can Say Is Sorry?!"
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Alright I'm not gonna sit here and try and plagiarize but it was too a good idea to waste. Original post/chat from @beachdeath and the after thought by @treescantjump.
James Ransone spent his entire life battling personal demons and trying to overcome past trauma. He grew up in poverty with an alcoholic parent who suffered from PTSD, was bullied relentlessly by peers, experienced SA by a trusted adult as a child, and turned to painkillers and later heroin to cope. He eventually hit a wall where his options, from his view, were suicide or rehab - he chose rehab. That was 19 years ago.
He had a career, he got married, he had kids. He was trying to address the things he once used drugs to escape from. But he also had serious mental health struggles. He wasn’t perfect, he was ‘problematic’ at times, but he was also very unwell and spoke openly about how he frequently questioned his own reality. He was paranoid and nervous. Certain fanbases didn’t help with that, leading him to largely leave social media to take care of himself and focus on his family.
I don’t know what he’s gone through very recently, I stopped keeping up some time ago, but I’m saddened to hear that it ended this way after all he’s survived up to this point. I feel sad for his wife and young kids. And I feel sad for him.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
I still wrestle with the catharsis of acting. I don’t end up playing a lot of likable characters, so I find myself living in a lot of unlikable skin. As a result of that I don’t always feel good. I get a lot more catharsis from taking pictures or painting or making short films. You have some control. I think all art—if it’s good—is a result of really trying to create something that you can’t put into words. Where language ends is where good art begins.
I just watched the new cheater monopoly and I have thoughts!!! It's clear that often times some are willing to overlook cheating that others are doing. For example, Chanse overlooks Shayne cheating multiple times, as does Shayne for Courtney. I don't mind this as is, but my issue arises when nobody grants Arasha the same grace.
Arasha was sitting next to Damien, who I feel will always call everyone out regardless, so maybe she also just got a worse end of the deal this video. But, I just think her moniker of "cheater/liar" makes most of them less forgiving with her. Chanse would never have let her get away with some of the stuff he was letting Shayne do. At one point, Shayne literally says to Chanse "don't tell anyone" and Chanse says "I won't."
Idk, I just find it frustrating that Arasha is held to a higher standard than most others. I know people will say she brought it on herself by being the "liar" but I still find it unfair and annoying
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Did you think I died? Or that I left you in suspense forever? Nope!
I'm sorry this took so long, I've just been going through something. But I recently (today) had a spurt of creative writing, and here it is!
This is technically the "finale" , but I'm gonna be honest-- I want to write a sequel. Appropriately named....say it with me... "Yes"!!!
What do we think? Eh? Eh, read the chapter and then tell me.
Here we go!
Chapter 9/12
-----------
The next month was better; Damien worked at setting hard boundaries with Vanessa.
He wasn't bringing home pastries or funny stories about how Vanessa made a silly face. I brought him lunch on days off and we were even closer at work.
One day, Ian called an “all hands” meeting—everyone who worked at the company had to be there.
“Alright, let’s all chill out,” he said, trying to quiet the bustling meeting room.
“QUIET COYOTE!” I yelled, causing a wave of laughter and a flurry of “Coyote” signs from the employees.
“Sir,” I gave an exaggerated bow.
“Thank you, madam,” Ian winked. “Alright, SO—”
“We all know that we don’t believe in making one person the ‘star’ of the channel,” Ian said, glancing at Anthony.
“What?!” Anthony raised an eyebrow.
“Nothing, nothing,” Ian threw his hands up.
“I was never the ‘star’...” Anthony muttered.
“Yeah, just the hot one,” Ian rolled his eyes with a playful smile.
“ANYWAY—” Anthony continued, rolling his eyes again as he addressed the room. “We don’t like to single anyone out—good or bad.”
“Oh, so Shayne isn’t the favorite child?” Tommy teased, causing a few giggles while Shayne ducked his head.
“NO! We don’t have a favorite child!” Anthony assured them.
“You’re not our children!” Ian protested.
“...Wait, we’re not?” Shayne asked, causing the room to erupt in laughter.
“ALRIGHT,” Anthony said loudly, clearly becoming a little agitated.
“Sorry, dear,” Ian gave his back a playful smack. “Ant’s right. We don’t like picking favorites.”
“BUT—” Anthony cleared his throat. “...Views don’t lie.”
Cue rustling whispers and chatter, slowly building.
“What does THAT mean?” Chance asked, a sassy frown on his face.
“Well…” Anthony glanced at Ian, clearly uncomfortable being the bearer of bad news.
“Jesus,” Ian muttered, stepping forward. “We love you all equally, but—unfortunately, we’re all slaves to the algorithm and the views.”
“AND?” Chance pressed.
“And…” Ian glanced toward our direction. “We’ve been made aware that our views and engagement drop significantly when…”
He hesitated, eyes flicking nervously toward Damien.
“Damien goes off for con season.”
“WHAT?!” Damien’s protest was louder than the chatter that had erupted in the room.
“No, guys. That’s—” He looked at me with a nervous smile. “That can’t be true. I’m not some big—”
“Damien, now is not the time to be humble,” Shayne grinned, rubbing his shoulders.
“Yeah, Damien, you’ve grown a lot outside of SMOSH, which is great for us... but also a bit of a problem,” Anthony added.
“Guys, I—” Damien looked at me, clearly overwhelmed by all the attention.
“SO—” Anthony spoke up to divert the attention. “We’ve decided to add a new mini-show to our spring/summer lineup.”
“Con Vlogs!” Ian chimed in excitedly.
“Oh, God,” Damien muttered, nervously playing with my hand, trying to ground himself.
“Guys, you know I suck at these. I don’t remember to film, I can’t stand filming myself—”
“We know, dude,” Ian chuckled. “That’s why you need a partner.”
“Oh, like Spencer or—OW!” Damien started to speak but was cut off by the sharp pain of my foot stomping on his.
“…The hell?” Damien muttered, glaring at me.
“I VOLUNTEER!” I shouted dramatically.
“Oh…” Damien said quietly, realization dawning.
“Yeah, no kidding, Y/N,” Anthony chuckled.
“Really?” I gaped at them.
“Seriously?” Ian gave me an exaggerated, annoyed look.
“…Did you do this?” I turned to Damien.
“Are you kidding?” Damien raised both eyebrows. “I don’t even want this—”
But then he saw my puppy-dog eyes.
“I mean… I do want it, I just... you know…” He trailed off, awkwardly.
“Yeah, I know.” I rubbed his shoulders.
“...Was there a reason we had to have this meeting?” Keith asked out of nowhere.
“YES,” Ian said, “and Aly is going to give you the boring stuff now.” He gestured to the CEO, who was about to start going over the month’s schedule.
Ian and Anthony nodded toward their office, signaling us to follow them. We moved to Ian’s office and sat in front of his desk.
“So, how do you both feel about this?” Anthony asked, glancing between Damien and me.
“I just…” I looked at Damien. “If D’s okay with it, I am.”
“What?” Damien put a hand on my thigh. “Of course I’m okay with it, baby.”
He looked at the bosses, then back at me. “I just… don’t like a lot of attention.”
“I get it,” Ian said quickly, Anthony nodding in agreement. “Maybe announcing it in front of everyone wasn’t the best idea. I’m sorry about that.”
“It’s… it’s fine,” Damien nodded, looking away and rubbing the back of his neck. I rubbed his shoulder in comfort.
“If you could get us a schedule of all the cons you’re booked for, we’ll handle the hotels and logistics,” Ian continued.
“They pay for all that,” Damien interjected. “It comes with the job.”
“For Y/N too?” Ian asked.
“Ah—yeah, yeah, I’m sure they will. It’s not like we need a second room.” Damien gave me a cheeky smile, rubbing the back of my palm with his thumb.
“Ewwww!” Ian groaned, clearly overacting his disgust.
“Shut up,” I giggled and blushed at his teasing.
“Do you know how to work a camera, Y/N?”
“I mean, not like a Brennan-level camera,” I shrugged.
“We’ll probably just want you shooting on your phone, right, Ant?” Ian suggested. “It’s a vlog, so it should look like one.”
“Right,” Anthony nodded.
“How good’s your camera?” Ian asked.
“Well, it’s a Galaxy—”
“BOOOOOOO!!!” All three boys shouted dramatically.
“You know, I thought this office would be more mature than to fall prey to the iPhone vs. Android war.”
“Well, you thought wrong!” Ian laughed maniacally.
“Can that thing even film?” Anthony teased.
“YES!” I growled. “In 4K!!!”
“Ooooh, not even in 5K,” Damien teased from the side.
I shot him a glare.
“Maybe Damien will let you use his,” Ian chuckled.
“Shut up,” I said, crossing my arms.
“We’ll let you two discuss your plans,” Ian gestured, signaling us to leave.
“Oh, thank you, sir,” I fake-bowed as we walked out.
-----------
“You’re sure you’re okay with this?” I asked him as we headed downstairs. Everyone had dispersed, thankfully.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” He tilted his head curiously.
“I…I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I just-- I don’t want you to think I pitched this idea so I could “keep an eye” on you,”
He stopped walking and held my shoulders.
“Y/N, that never even crossed my mind. I promise you,”
“Really?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Really!” He assured me with a kiss to my forehead. “I don’t think you’re that crazy--”
I gave him a warning look, meaning he better watch his words for the next sentence.
“I mean-- I don’t think you’re crazy, at ALL,” He corrected himself with a sheepish smile.
“.... No no,” I sighed and pushed a strand of hair out of his face. “I’ll concede to being at least 25% crazy,”
“Wow, that’s mighty big of you, ma’am,” He teased in a southern drawl.
“Shut up!!” I giggled and lightly hit him.
“...Okay but seriously, do you want to use my phone to film?” he asked with a cheeky grin.
“.... Well, it’s gonna be kind of hard after I throw it out the window!!” I jumped on his back, trying to wrestle his phone away from him.
“Ay!” He yelped. “Get off me, spider monkey!”
We laughed and play fought for a good few minutes before Spencer yelled:
“GET A ROOM!!”
Damien dropped me immediately, remembering my reaction to being reprimanded before.
“Oh please, Spence,” I rolled my eyes. “Like you and Amanda haven’t done worse,”
“But we’re MARRIED!” Amanda poked her hand around the corner, causing all of us to lose control while laughing.
“Wow, that was smooth,” Damien gave me a proud smile as Spencer walked away, and Amanda disappeared back where she came from.
“Meh, you catch on quick working here,” I winked.
----------------------
“This is absolutely UNACCEPTABLE!!” Vanessa stomped her heels.
Damien and I were in his manager’s office; who, wouldn’t you know it, also managed her.
“Now calm down, miss--”
“...Sorry,” She suddenly remembered she was supposed to be her “sweet” self around Damien.
“I just, I think it’s unfair that Damien’s girlfriend weaseled herself into our press tour--”
“She had nothing to do with it, Vanessa,” the man talked over her. “Their place of employment contacted me with the idea before even speaking to the two of them,” he gestured towards me and Damien.
Damien gave me the most apologetic look while she was ranting.
“...Wow,” he whispered. “I am so, so sorry I didn’t see this before, baby,”
“What was that?” Vanessa spun around abruptly, like her name triggered her like a shock collar.
“I’m sorry Vee, I just-- I didn’t realize you were this hostile about my fiancée,”
All three jaws dropped at the use of the word “fiancée”.
“What?” Vee gasped while immediately scanning my hands for a piece of jewelry.
“Yeah, what?” I restated her question with a bit of stunning in my tone.
“Damien, we really should’ve spoken about this before--”
“Seriously, Chase?” Damien gave him a bewildered look. “My relationship is NONE of your business--”
“No, but your public persona is ALL of my business,” Chase cut him off. “Half of your appeal to cons is your bubbly personality, relationships to fans, and being single!”
“I’m sorry, what?” I had to keep myself from laughing. “You have to be joking. How is that even a thing with voice actors--?”
“It’s a thing with any guy or girl that teenage girls find desirable.” He informed me. “K-pop Bands, Maid Cafe’s, Anime’s-- people want to imagine themselves with these characters. And their characters are tied to their VA’s!”
“Okay, that’s--”
“How many gifts do you get per con, Damien?” Chase asked him. “How many marriage proposals, date proposals, hell how many hotel keys do you collect in a signing?!”
“...Excuse me?!” I felt my jaw drop agape once more. Granted I’d never seen Damien at a con before, but I would’ve never imagine the audacity of a bunch of weebettes.
“I mean--” Damien rubbed his neck nervously.
“And it’s even more relevant to you, because you also put your face out there! I can’t tell you how many SMOSH fans call this office looking for you.”
“Jesus--” Damien was turning bright red at this information. He never considered himself to be any sort of desirable creature, let alone a thousand girly pop stalkers.
“Also--” Chase cleared his throat uncomfortably. “You know just as well as I do people like to “ship” main characters, in and out of acting…”
“Exactly!” Vanessa finally chirped with a smug smile.
“Seriously?” Damien now crossed his arms. “Chase, you’ve literally NEVER brought this up before--”
“Well, no offense Damien,” Chase shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “You haven’t exactly had a serious relationship since you became a…valued commodity,”
Damien immediately looked down to the floor in response to Chase’s insensitive statement, while I felt rage in the pit of my stomach.
“You’re a DICK, you know that?” I stood up. I glanced at Damien to see if he was getting anxious because of my outburst like before, but he seemed too in his head to care. And that made me even more rageful.
“How dare you have the audacity to not only criticize Damien’s personal life, but to refer to him as not even a PERSON?!”
Damien reached out and clutched my hand for grounding as he still stared at the floor. I rubbed the back of his hand with my thumb in response.
“I don’t know how much you actually know about your ‘client’ here,” I nodded towards Damien. “But he has had a rough go with relationships, and the lack of them is not for you to comment on!”
“Jesus Christ,” Chase mumbled. “Damien, mind controlling your guard dog?”
“Fuck you Chase,” Damien’s head suddenly snapped upwards. A glare was apparent on his face.
I stood there bamboozled as I heard him; I’d never heard him shit talk someone, let alone his agent.
“She’s right- not loving how detailed that was,” he glanced at me quickly, in which I mouthed a “Sorry”
“But regardless, you don’t know anything about my personal life. And Y/N here, she’s the best thing to ever happen to me. So no, I will not be pretending she is anything less than the woman I love. And if you have a problem with that, I’ll gladly step back for this season of cons.”
Three audible gasps came from the room.
From what I assumed, Damien made quite a bit of money from doing cons, and to give up a huge chunk of income for me seemed a little more than shocking.
“Babe, you don’t need to--”
“No, actually. I do.” He pulled me back to my seat. “You defend me so much, to literally any and everyone. It’s more than overdue that I defend you, us, and myself.”
He looked at Chase.
“And I am NOT a ‘valued commodity’, I’m a human being. Maybe a weird one, but still. And I refuse to put the one good thing I have in my life in jeopardy just so you can make money off of my hard work.”
I wanted to grab him and kiss him all over at that moment, but I held myself back.
“.... Fine,” Chase finally lamented. “She can come. But we are still referring to her as your camera woman,”
“The fuck we are,” Damien huffed.
“Damien,” I silently nudged him. I was still gagged on how flippant and defiant he was being, just over me.
“This is ridiculous--” Vanessa stood up and walked out of the room in an angry pouting state,
“Jesus…” Chase sighed under his breath.
“Look, Damien.” He set his sight on him. “I’ve known you a while now, and it’s nice to see you stand up for yourself, let alone someone else.”
He nodded towards me.
“But you gotta remember, you still need to keep the peace with your castmates. Hmm?” He nodded towards where Vanessa had stomped off.
“You want me to apologize to Vanessa for finally realizing what Y/N has been telling me all along?” He scoffed. “Apologize for indulging her flirty advances and--”
“And leading her on,” Chase finished.
“Leading her ON?!” I suddenly snapped. “You of all people KNOW that’s bullshit, sir. You know Damien, bless his heart, was just oblivious to her advances, and--”
“Yeah, I get that.” Chase cut me off. “And she may be a bit---overbearing,”
“Understatement of the year,” I mumbled angrily.
“But she’s a good actor. A very good actor. And like it or not, we have to keep her happy.”
Damien and I both gave him a look.
“Just like everyone should be happy!” He clarified, making us roll our eyes in unison.
“So just-- humor her. Act apologetic at least, I could care less if you mean it. And don’t antagonize her. Please,” he pleaded.
“Antagonize--? You mean by just being affectionate towards my partner?!”
“Damien,” I rubbed his shoulder. “He’s right. I don’t like it, but he’s right. We should keep it professional, at least in public. And that’s not just for that brat, it’s for us. Ian and Anthony probably wouldn’t want a vlog going out of us just being cutesy--”
“The fans sure would,” he chuckled.
“Yeah, OKAY.” I lightly pushed against him. “But you know what I mean, yeah? This is business as usual. We don’t do it at SMOSH, and we won’t do it here,”
“Yeah,” he took my hand under the table as he looked at me lovingly. “I know, you’re right.”
“Great!” Chase interjected.
“Don’t push it, Chase,” Damien side eyed him as we both got up to leave the office.
“Alright, so I’ll see you two in Denver? Thursday? Yes?” He looked between us.
“See you then,” Damien nodded as we walked out of the office hand in hand.
As soon as we were out in the hall, I turned to grab him in a hungry kiss. We stood there for a moment, just holding each other and throwing the “PDA” rule out the window.
Finally, Damien broke the kiss with a breathless smile. “What was that for?”
“For being you,” I nuzzled his nose while my thumb caressed at the bottom of his cheek. “I can’t believe you were going to walk away from cons-- just for me,”
“I would do ANYTHING for you, Y/N.” He pressed his forehead against mine. “I hope you realize that by now.”
“I do now, for sure!” I giggled as he held my hand to walk back to the car.
If only I knew just how much that statement meant, for the upcoming events.
=======
The next few months were fun, no doubt, but also incredibly busy. I didn’t realize how much work went into just showing up somewhere to sign photos for fans. It was about so much more than that—panels, meet-and-greets, photo ops, and after parties. By the end of each weekend, even though I was completely drained and running on empty, I couldn’t imagine how Damien felt. But I helped him through it, offering support—even if it wasn’t always appreciated by Vanessa. I filmed his panels, secretly recorded his signings, and always made sure to blend in with the crowds of fans surrounding us. Luckily, only a few hardcore fans noticed me, gushing about why I was there, which of course led to the inevitable questions about Damien and me. It always made for awkward conversations, dodging questions and making quick, polite exits.
It was enough to drive anyone crazy—all the hiding, the sneaky filming, and the witty banter in between. But watching Damien in his element made it worth it. The way he interacted with fans—whether answering questions on a panel or having personal chats at a meet-and-greet—was magical. He was absolutely giddy. You could tell he was thriving. In that environment, he shone.
I’d always pegged him as the shy, introverted guy who kept to himself and a small circle of friends. But at conventions, he was a completely different person—confident, proud, and grateful. He treated every fan with kindness, giving them as much time and attention as they needed, much to the dismay of the convention staff.
Each night, back at the hotel, I’d massage his back and shoulders, telling him how proud I was of him. Inevitably, that led to other kinds of “rewards,” since Damien had a soft spot for praise. And, well… he really did love his praise kink.
It was a whirlwind of a few months, but I was ready to be rid of it.
We were finally in the last leg of the “tour”; the international circuit.
After a particularly hectic weekend and the end of a convention in Melbourne Australia, we decided to visit the Sea Life Melbourne Aquarium. Australia was a country that was at the top of my travel bucket list. The primary reason for this was Pesto, a penguin who lived at the aquarium; penguins are my favorite animals in the entire world.
“Are you sure?” I asked Damien as we were Ubered to the aquarium. “Are you sure you don’t want to just-- rest at the hotel before we have the long ass day of travel tomorrow?”
“Well, if I wasn’t, it’d be a little late to back out now,” He chuckled, pointing to the sign of the aquarium.
“We can still--” I started to assure him we could leave, but he put a finger to my lips.
“We’re doing this, sweetheart.” He smiled. “I want to do this,”
“Well .... okay,” I smiled while giggling incessantly.
The driver pulled up to the entrance of the aquarium and let us out. Pesto had been such a marvel when he was born because of his size, but now he was just a normal penguin.
That didn’t matter to me though, he was majestic. As beautiful as every single penguin in the enclosure.
I entered their habitat wide eyed, just staring gleefully at all of them. It was towards closing time on a Sunday, so the zoo wasn’t that busy. And we were the only ones there.
“Wow,” I whispered in awe as I held onto the railing. All the penguins were waddling around without a care in the world, God, I wanted that.
“I wish I was a penguin,” I lamented out loud.
“Do you?” Damien laughed half in amusement.
“Oh shit--” I looked at him in embarrassment. “Did I say that out loud?”
“Sure, did babe,” He chuckled and pulled me close. “If it makes you feel better, I’d gladly be a penguin with you.”
“Really?” I looked at him tearfully. I felt stupid getting misty eyed on such a weird, niche sentiment; but dammit that was adorable.
“You wanna meet Pesto?” he asked, making me almost whiplash with whipping my head so fast.
“WHAT?!” I said rather loudly, causing a few of the penguins to respond visually.
“Really?” I lowered my voice.
“Yes really,” He smiled while nodding behind me. An employee of the aquarium was standing nearby with a smile on her face.
“Right this way, Miss,” she gestured towards an “employees only” door. I looked at Damien with the most childlike smile of happiness.
“Damien we’re gonna meet PESTO!!!! Could this day get any better?!!!” I squealed quietly as we followed the woman.
“Oh, I imagine it might…” He said very quietly to himself with a sly grin, unbeknownst to me.
We walked into a backstage area where all the “penguin supplies” were kept. First aid, food, maintenance tools to keep the enclosure clean, etc. And there, in front of us, was Pesto the penguin in all his glory.
“Oh my goooooodddddd!!!!!” I squealed a little higher, trying to be as calm as possible.
“He’s happy to see you too!” one of the handlers said while another one was on his knees holding Pesto’s sides.
“Would you like to feed him?” He asked me as a handler handed me a sardine a distance away from Pesto. Even from here, you could tell he could smell it. He started wiggling in his handler’s arms and squawking excitedly.
“OH, okay!” I nodded enthusiastically as I took the sardine. The handler showed me how to hold it up so Pesto could get it easily, as Pesto came waddling very quickly over to us.
“Here you go boy,” I said quietly as he gobbled the fish from my hand.
“You can pet him,” one handler told me. “Go ahead, right down his back while he’s munching.”
I looked over at Damien who was filming the whole thing with a huge grin.
I stuck my tongue out playfully before turning my attention back to Pesto; then I slowly ran two fingers down his back while another handler gave him another fish.
“It’s so smooth!” I said in childlike wonder.
“Yeah, slippery little devils they are,” one handler laughed in a thick Aussie accent. “Here, better wash off the ‘guin goo before you smell like a sardine!”
I stood up and followed him over to a little handwashing station and washed my hands. Meanwhile, activity happened behind my back.
More penguins had waddled their way to the backstage area, probably having smelled the fish.
“AH!” I squealed loudly, getting on my knees to revel in their majesty.
Then, all of a sudden, one particular penguin started waddling to the front of the crowd. He was holding a pebble in his mouth.
“Wow,” a keeper remarked. “Someone REALLY likes you,”
“Whoa whoa whoa there buddy,” I giggled. “Moving a little fast there aren’t we?”
I knew that when male penguins decide on a mate, they get the shiniest pebble they can find and bring it to the female. If she accepts, they are together. And penguins mate for life.
“Makes sense though, given his name” the woman who brought us there smiled mischievously.
“Why?” I tilted my head. “What’s his name?”
“Damien,” She smiled even wider.
“Shut up!” I giggled and turned my head around. “Damien, isn’t that cra--?”
I hard stopped my sentence when I saw Damien, on his knee, holding a ring box.
“Wha….?” I almost fell over onto the icy floor. I looked around to his obvious cohorts who were smiling and filming the whole thing.
“I promise you a big gesture,” Damien grinned from ear to ear.
“Damien, you didn’t need to--” I started to protest, but he stuck a finger up to hush me.
“But I wanted to. You are so incredibly special, Y/N. And you deserve the most special proposal I could give you.”
“Babe…” I whispered as tears began to fill my eyes.
He was tearful himself as he opened the ring box, to reveal a DIFFERENT ring than he had showed me before.
It was a ring that I had discussed with Courtney ages ago, when we were talking about hers.
“Let’s look at some for you!” She exclaimed. “Y’know, just in case…”
“Courtney,” I giggled under my breath. She knew what she was doing this whole time!
“Y/N,” Damien said, tears obviously in his voice.
“I love you. I love you more than I ever thought I could ever love another person. And I know, without a doubt, that you love me more than I could ever begin to believe someone could.”
“Damien--” I bit my lip in an attempt to keep from sobbing.
“You understand me. You leave space for me. You know all of my--- quirks,” He sheepishly smiled and looked around at these strangers who knew nothing about him.
“And you love me in spite of them,” He looked down.
“Damien,” I crawled closer to him, taking his non-ring holding hand. “I love you because of them,”
“See? Just that!” He let tears drip down his face with a tear filled laugh. “You turn my negative self-talk into something beautiful. As beautiful as you,”
“Oh, D,” I sniffled.
“Knowing you has been the best part of my life so far, and I can’t wait to making the rest of it just as amazing. So…”
He held the ring box out to me.
“Will you marry me--”
“YES!” I practically screamed, scaring the penguins.
“Oh god I’m so sorry!” I looked at them all. “Sorry babies!”
All the people laughed in the room, assuring me it was fine. Satisfied, I turned my attention back to Damien.
“Yes, Damien. I will marry you,” I said very calmly.
“Yes!!” He fists pumped. Making me giggle as he slipped the ring on my finger.
He grabbed my hands and pulled us both up into standing position before kissing me fiercely and aggressively, in front of all these strangers.
We were both crying now, the tears making slight frost from the freezing temperature around us.
“Congratulations!!!” A worker exclaimed as she handed Damien his phone, since he asked her to film the proposal.
Then I heard cheering from behind me, though it sounded muffled. I turned to see one worker holding a laptop; on the laptop was a zoom call from the SMOSH office, everyone was there cheering us on.
“Oh my god!” I laughed with sobs. “You guys!!!”
I couldn’t thank them individually without taking more of these worker’s time, so I motioned that I’d call them later and hung up the call.
“Ehh,” I shrugged nonchalantly, before turning into an enthusiastic “YES!!!”
“So, did the day get better?” Damien asked with a surprisingly nervous smile.
“I love you,” He said before kissing me once more.
“I love you more,” I kissed him back.
I am so, so happy I didn’t take “no” for an answer.
Eddie with shy virgin girlfriend please please please
This is living in my mind rent-free
Nsfw if possible, taking away her v-card
Munson Curse - Eddie Munson
words: 4.6k
warning: of course it’s smut 18+
This need was a living thing inside Eddie Munson.
It coiled in his gut, a restless serpent, every time he looked at you. It was there in the faint, possessive tap of his rings against the lunch table when you smiled. It was a low, constant hum beneath his skin when your shy, nervous laughter met one of his jokes. It was a physical ache, a sharp, sweet throb that echoed in time with his heartbeat when you’d bite your lip, your eyes darting away from his intense, adoring gaze.
You were perfect. To him, you were a creature of sublime, impossible perfection. The way your words came out soft and halting, the way you’d fiddle with the sleeve of his battle jacket when you wore it, drowning in the denim and the scent of him. The way your innocence wasn’t a fragility but a quiet, unshakeable strength that left him in awe. And it made the need so much worse. Or maybe, so much better.
He was a man of appetites—loud music, chaotic campaigns, wild gesticulations. But you… you were a quiet craving that had become a fundamental necessity. He needed you with a desperation that sometimes stole his breath.
He saw the effect he had on you. He wasn’t blind. When his eyes would darken, the usual mirth replaced by a raw, hungry intensity, he’d watch a pretty pink flush creep up your neck. You’d duck your head, a failed attempt to hide from the heat of his want. He loved it. He loved knowing he could make you feel that, even if you didn’t fully understand the language his body was speaking.
And when you were in his arms, pressed together in the shadowy confines of his bedroom or on the worn couch in the trailer, the need became a tangible, pressing thing.
Making out with you was his favorite form of worship. His hands, usually flying through the air to illustrate a dramatic D&D story, would be impossibly gentle. One cradled the back of your head, fingers tangled in your hair, while the other splayed across the small of your back, holding you close. His kisses started soft, coaxing, but they always deepened, fueled by that bottomless need.
And you could feel it. Pressed against you, the hard ridge of his erection straining against his jeans was an unavoidable truth. A gasp would catch in your throat when you shifted and brushed against it. You’d freeze for a second, your body going rigid with a mixture of shock and a thrilling, terrifying curiosity.
Eddie would always break the kiss then, his forehead resting against yours, his breath coming in ragged pants that fanned across your feverish skin.
“Shhh, sweetheart,” he’d murmur, his voice gravelly with restraint. “It’s okay. Just me. Just how much I want you. I’m not gonna do anything. I promise.”
He’d wait. He’d promised you, promised himself. He would wait until you were shaking with the same need, until you asked him with words or with your body, until every last shred of your sweet shyness was burned away by a fire he knew he could stoke. The waiting was a special kind of agony, but it was his agony, and he cherished it because it was for you.
The old couch in his trailer had borne witness to many of these tender, tortured sessions. The springs groaned in protest as he leaned over you, his body caging you in, his lips tracing a searing path from your mouth to the frantic pulse at your throat. The air was thick with the scent of weed, cheap laundry detergent, and the intoxicating sweetness of your skin.
You were lost in it, in the feel of his tongue against yours, the scrape of his rings against your jaw, the solid, demanding heat of him everywhere. Your hips made an involuntary, tiny arch against his, and a low groan ripped from his chest. He ground himself against you once, a helpless, friction-seeking motion, and you whimpered, your fingers clutching at his shoulders.
That’s when the trailer door creaked open.
The spell shattered.
Eddie froze, his entire body going rigid. You squeaked, trying to shrink into the cracked vinyl cushions. Eddie shifted, swift as a predator, trying to shield you from view as he looked over the back of the couch.
His Uncle Wayne stood there, keys in hand, having just finished his shift at the plant. He took in the scene: his nephew, wild-haired and flushed, hovering protectively over your thoroughly kissed, mortified form.
There was a beat of silence. Then, a low, rumbling chuckle.
“Well,” Wayne said, his voice dry as dust. “Don’t let me interrupt the, uh… negotiations.”
“Wayne,” Eddie croaked, his voice strangled.
You had buried your burning face entirely in Eddie’s chest, wishing the couch would just swallow you whole. Wayne just shook his head, a faint, amused smile on his weathered face.
“I’m gonna go put my feet up in my room. You two… try and remember the doors got a lock on it.” He ambled off down the hall, his chuckle echoing softly.
The moment his bedroom door clicked shut, the tension broke. Eddie let out a shaky breath, a mixture of relief and residual embarrassment. He looked down at you, still hiding against his t-shirt.
“Hey,” he whispered, his voice soft. “He’s gone. And he’s not mad.”
You peeked up at him, your face a brilliant, adorable shade of scarlet. “I’m going to die of embarrassment. Right here.”
Eddie’s grin was slow and wide, his own cheeks flushed. He brushed your hair back from your face. “Nah. You’re not. It’s just Wayne.” He leaned down, pressing a soft, chaste kiss to your lips. “See? Still alive.”
He settled back beside you, pulling you into his side, your head on his shoulder. The needy ache was still there, a persistent thrum in his veins, but it was soothed by the weight of you against him. He could wait. For you, he would wait forever. But God, the needing was a sweet, sweet hell.
Of all the places that felt sacred to Eddie Munson, your bedroom was quickly becoming his favorite chapel.
It was a world away from the chaotic, heavy metal haven of his own room. Your room was soft. It smelled like vanilla lotion and the faint, clean scent of fabric softener. A string of fairy lights cast a warm, golden glow over walls adorned with a few band posters and delicate prints of flowers. Stuffed animals still held a place of honor on your neatly made bed, and the sheer, gauzy curtains fluttered in the gentle night breeze from the open window—his point of entry and exit.
He was sitting cross-legged on your floral-printed rug, your hand cradled in his, tracing the lines of your palm with a calloused finger. His voice was a low, soothing rumble as he described the lair of a Lich King, not with monstrous fury, but with a reverent awe that made your stomach flutter. This was how he showed love—by sharing his worlds with you.
But tonight, the usual calm was charged with a new, electric current.
You’d been quiet for a while, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. You’d been turning the words over in your mind for days, weeks. Gathering your courage. The memory of his patient need, his hungry gazes, his promises on the worn trailer couch, had finally coalesced into a single, terrifying, thrilling decision.
“Eddie,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
He stopped his story immediately, his dark eyes lifting to yours. He was always so attuned to you, catching every shift in your mood like a seismograph. “Yeah, sweetheart?”
You took a shaky breath, your gaze dropping to where your hand rested in his. The silver of his rings was cool against your warm skin. “I… I think I’m ready.”
The silence that followed was profound. The air itself seemed to still. You forced yourself to look up at him.
The change in his face was instantaneous. The playful storyteller vanished, replaced by the raw, needy man you only glimpsed in your most heated moments. His eyes widened, then darkened, the pupils swallowing the warm brown almost completely. His lips parted slightly. You could see the pulse jump in his throat.
“Yeah?” he breathed out, the word thick with emotion. He brought your hand to his lips, pressing a fervent, open-mouthed kiss to your knuckles. “Are you sure? You’re… you’re absolutely sure?”
You nodded, a nervous, jerky motion. “I’m sure.”
A shudder ran through him, a visible release of a tension he’d been carrying for months. A slow, devastatingly tender smile spread across his face. He began to lean in, his free hand coming up to cup your jaw, his thumb stroking your cheek. His eyes were locked on yours, full of so much love and blazing, unchecked want that it stole the air from your lungs. You could feel the heat radiating from him, pulling you in.
“Okay,” he whispered, his voice a husky promise. “Okay, sweetheart. We can—"
WOOF. WOOF-WOOF-WOOF!
The sound was explosive, a sudden, deafening alarm right outside your bedroom door.
You both jolted apart as if electrocuted.
Buster, your golden retriever, who had been peacefully snoozing in the hallway, had apparently decided a squirrel of epic proportions was on the roof. His barking was a frantic, window-rattling cacophony.
Panic, cold and immediate, doused the heated moment.
Down the hall, a light flicked on. “Honey?” your mom’s sleepy voice called. “Is everything okay? What’s Buster going on about?”
Your eyes, wide with terror, met Eddie’s. His face was a mask of sheer, unadulterated agony—the agony of a dream violently deferred. The need that had been so close to being sated was now a frantic, caged thing behind his eyes.
But month of sneaking out and evading authority had honed his instincts. He was on his feet in a second, moving with a silent, practiced grace.
“I gotta go,” he mouthed, already backing towards the open window.
He gave you one last, longing look—a look that promised this isn’t over—and then he was gone, slipping out into the night like a ghost. The curtains swayed in his wake.
Your mom peeked in, squinting in the dim light. Buster shoved his wet nose through the gap, whining, his mission apparently accomplished
“Just a nightmare, I think,” you managed, your voice trembling only a little. “Buster was just… checking on me.”
Your mom smiled sleepily. “Alright. Good dog, Buster. Go back to sleep, sweetie.”
The door closed. The hall light went out.
Silence descended once more, thick and heavy. The only sound was your own ragged breathing and the happy, panting sigh of Buster as he settled back onto the hallway rug.
You crawled onto your bed, burying your burning face in the pillow that still smelled faintly of Eddie. A hysterical giggle bubbled up in your throat, followed by a groan of pure frustration. It was so perfectly, horribly timed it was almost comical.
Outside, crouched in the bushes beneath your window, Eddie Munson let his head thud back against the siding. He squeezed his eyes shut, the image of your shy, determined face seared into his mind. The needy ache in his body was a physical pain now, a throbbing reminder of what had been so cruelly interrupted.
He groaned, low and pained, into the quiet night. “You have got to be kidding me,” he whispered to the uncaring stars.
The wait had just become a thousand times more excruciating.
The universe, it seemed, had a personal vendetta against Eddie Munson getting laid.
A week had passed since The Great Buster Betrayal. A week of tense, whispered phone calls and looks in the school hallway so full of smoldering promise they should have set off the fire alarms. The need had become a tangible entity between you, a third presence that followed you everywhere. Eddie was a live wire, all jangling nerves and restless energy, his touches becoming more possessive, his kisses lingering a second too long between classes.
Tonight was the night. You’d sworn it. Your parents were at a day-long wedding two towns over. The Munson trailer was empty, Wayne pulling a double shift. The stars had finally, finally aligned.
You’d barely made it through the trailer door before he was on you, his mouth hot and desperate on yours, his hands roaming your back, your hips, pulling you flush against him. The usual gentle worship was gone, replaced by a raw, hungry urgency.
“No dogs,” he panted against your lips, backing you towards his room. “No uncles. No interruptions. Just us.”
You nodded, your own hands fisting in the soft fabric of his Hellfire shirt. “Just us.”
He kicked his bedroom door shut, the faded Black Sabbath poster rattling on the back. His room was a sanctuary of him—the cluttered shelves, the guitar in the corner, the faint, comforting scent of weed and his cheap cologne. And in the center of it all, his bed.
It was the site of so many of your fantasies. The place where he’d hold you after a nightmare, where you’d listen to cassettes for hours, his fingers tracing patterns on your arm. Now, it was the promised land.
He looked at you, his chest heaving, his dark eyes blown wide with pure, unadulterated want. “You’re so perfect,” he breathed, his voice ragged. “I’ve waited so long for this.”
He guided you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the mattress. With a final, searing kiss, he laid you down, the old springs groaning a familiar welcome. He followed you down, his weight a delicious, solid pressure, his body caging you in. He buried his face in your neck, inhaling deeply as his hands began to wander, finally, blessedly, under the hem of your shirt.
Your skin prickled with anticipation. This was it. The nervous flutter in your stomach was being chased away by a wave of pure, liquid heat. You arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping your lips.
Eddie responded with a groan of his own, shifting his weight to get a better angle, to bring his body more fully over yours.
It was the shift that did it.
There was a sound—not the comfortable groan of settling springs, but a sharp, sickening CRACK of protesting wood.
Then, a catastrophic SNAP.
The world dropped out from under you.
The center of the bed gave way with a tremendous, groaning sigh. The mattress tilted violently, spilling you both into the sudden, V-shaped canyon that had opened up in the middle of the frame. Your limbs tangled, your head bonked gently against the headboard, and you landed in a heap of shock, limbs, and floral-printed comforter.
The silence that followed was absolute, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.
You were lying at a bizarre angle, half-pinned under a very stunned Eddie Munson. You blinked, trying to process the sudden change in altitude and atmosphere.
Eddie was frozen. You could feel the rigid line of his entire body against yours. Slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted his head. His hair was a wild halo, his eyes wide with a mixture of horror, disbelief, and the rapidly deflating remnants of world-ending lust.
He looked at you. He looked at the broken bed frame, the mattress slumped sadly in the middle. He looked back at you.
A sound escaped him. It started as a choked gasp, then morphed into a wheeze, and finally erupted into full-bodied, helpless laughter. It was a laugh of pure, unadulterated hysterical frustration.
You stared for a second, the absurdity of the situation crashing down on you. The most anticipated moment of your young lives, ruined by a piece of termite-riddled wood. A giggle bubbled up in your own throat, then another, until you were both lying in the wreckage of his bed, laughing until tears streamed down your faces.
Eddie finally rolled off you, clutching his stomach. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!” he howled, kicking a leg out at the broken frame. “The bed? The BED?”
You wiped tears from your eyes, your body still shaking with laughter. “I guess… I guess we were too much for it,” you managed.
He turned his head to look at you, his laughter softening into a look of such profound, aching affection it made your breath catch. He reached out, brushing a stray tear from your cheek with his thumb.
“Nah, sweetheart,” he said, his voice warm and rough. “The world just can’t handle how perfect we are together. It’s trying to stop us.”
He sat up, groaning as he surveyed the damage. “Well… there goes the mood, huh?”
You sat up too, leaning against his shoulder. The frantic, needy energy was gone, replaced by a warm, comfortable intimacy. The need was still there—it would always be there with him—but it was banked for now, soothed by shared laughter.
“We could… fix it?” you suggested weakly.
Eddie snorted, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “Tomorrow. Wayne’s got some two-by-fours in the shed. We’ll rebuild it. Fortify it.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. “For the next attempt.”
You sighed, content in the circle of his arms, sitting in the ruins of his bed. The universe might be against you, but as long as you were with him, even the catastrophes felt like adventures.
The third time was the charm. It had to be. The air in Eddie's van was thick with the scent of his cologne, weed, and a new, electric tension that was all raw, unfiltered need. There were no more obstacles. No dogs, no uncles, no structurally unsound furniture. Just the two of you, parked at the edge of Lover's Lake, the moon a sliver of silver watching over the still, black water.
He killed the engine, and the sudden silence was deafening. He didn't look at you, just stared out at the lake, his knuckles white where they gripped the steering wheel. You could see the rapid pulse hammering in his throat.
"Eddie?" you whispered, your voice small in the vast quiet.
That broke his trance. He turned to you, and the look in his eyes was enough to steal the air from your lungs. It was pure, unadulterated hunger. The playful, patient boyfriend was gone, stripped away by weeks of agonizing frustration, leaving behind a man on the edge.
"No more waiting," he said, his voice a low, gravelly promise that was not a request.
You just managed a shaky nod.
That was all the invitation he needed. In one fluid, desperate motion, he was out of his driver's seat, the van door sliding open and shut with a bang. A second later, your door was wrenched open. His hands were on you, not with their usual gentle reverence, but with a fierce possessiveness. He unbuckled your seatbelt, his fingers brushing against the soft skin of your stomach, making you jolt. He didn't say a word as he half-lifted, half-guided you into the back of the van, where he'd laid out a nest of blankets and pillows.
The second you were both in the confined space, the dam broke.
His mouth crashed down on yours. This wasn't the soft, exploring kiss from your bedroom or the passionate, interrupted ones on his couch.
This was devouring.
His tongue plunged into your mouth, claiming you, tasting you with a guttural groan that vibrated deep in his chest.
One hand fisted in your hair, tilting your head back to give him better access, while the other slid down your back, over the curve of your ass, gripping you hard and pulling your hips flush against his.
You could feel the rigid length of him, already straining against his jeans, pressing into your stomach. A whimper escaped you, a sound of shock and overwhelming arousal. He swallowed the sound, his kiss becoming even more demanding
"Need to feel you," he rasped against your lips, his hands frantic. "All of you.”
His fingers found the hem of your shirt and yanked it up and over your head, tossing it into the darkness. The cool night air hit your skin, followed immediately by the searing heat of his palms. He looked down at you, your chest heaving in your simple bra, his eyes dark and wild.
"You're so fucking beautiful," he breathed, before his mouth left yours and trailed a hot, wet path down your neck, to the swell of your breasts. He mouthed at you through the fabric, his teeth scraping lightly over a pebbled nipple, making you cry out and arch into him.
He made quick, clumsy work of the clasp of your bra, his rings catching for a moment before it gave way. When he saw you, bare to the waist in the dim light, he stilled for a moment, his breath catching. "Christ," he whispered, almost a prayer. Then his mouth was on you, his tongue laving one peak while his thumb and forefinger rolled the other. The sensation was so intense, so direct, it was almost too much.
Your hands came up to clutch at his shoulders, your nails digging into the leather of his vest.
"Eddie... please..."
He understood. His hands went to the button of your jeans, popping it open, dragging the zipper down with a harsh rasp. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your jeans and panties and, with a single, rough tug, peeled them down your legs and off, leaving you completely bare and exposed to his hungry gaze. He knelt between your legs, his eyes raking over you, from your flushed face to the apex of your thighs.
"Perfect," he growled. "Fucking perfect."
He didn't give you time to feel self-conscious. He leaned down, but instead of kissing your mouth, he continued his descent, his lips and tongue tracing a blazing trail down your stomach, over your hip bones, until he was there, his hot breath ghosting over the very core of you.
You gasped, trying to close your legs.
"Eddie, wh-what are you-"
"Shhh," he soothed, his hands spreading your thighs apart, holding you open. "I need to taste you, sweetheart. I've dreamed about this."
And then his mouth was on you.
You cried out, your back bowing off the blankets. It was unlike anything you'd ever felt.
His tongue was relentless, licking into you with a firm, wet pressure, circling the most sensitive part of you before sucking it gently into his mouth.
His stubble scraped against the tender skin of your inner thighs, a delicious friction. One of his hands remained on your hip, pinning you in place, while the other slid up your stomach to palm your breast, his thumb flicking over your nipple in time with the rhythm of his tongue.
The world narrowed to the feeling of his mouth, the scent of him, the ragged sounds of his breathing and your own helpless, keening moans. The coil of pleasure in your belly tightened, spiraling tighter and tighter, a frantic, building pressure. You were babbling, his name a broken litany on your lips.
"Eddie... I'm... I can't..."
He groaned against you, the vibration pushing you even closer to the edge.
"Come for me, baby," he commanded, his voice muffled against your flesh. "Let me feel it."
It was the command in his voice that shattered you. The coil snapped, and a wave of pure, blinding pleasure crashed over you, wracking your body with violent tremors. You screamed his name, your fingers tangling in his wild curls, holding him to you as you rode out the convulsions.
Before the last tremor had even subsided, he was moving. He reared up, frantically unbuckling his own belt, the metal clinking loudly in the silence. He shoved his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his dick. He was thick and hard, the tip flushed and leaking. He positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes, black with lust, locked on yours.
"Look at me," he demanded, his voice rough. "I want to see your eyes when I'm inside you."
You nodded, breathless, still reeling from your climax, your body hypersensitive and aching for him.
He pushed in.
There was a sharp, brief sting of pain, and you flinched, a tear leaking from the corner of your eye. Eddie froze instantly, his whole body trembling with the effort of his restraint.
"Okay?" he gritted out, his forehead beaded with sweat.
You took a shaky breath, the initial pain already fading, replaced by a feeling of incredible, shocking fullness. "Yes," you breathed. "Don't stop."
A ragged groan tore from his throat, and he began to move. He started slow, shallow thrusts, letting your body adjust to his. But the control was short-lived.
Months of waiting, the interruptions, the sheer depth of his need for you-it was too much. His thrusts became deeper, harder, faster.
His mouth found yours again in a messy, desperate kiss. "So tight," he panted against your lips. "So fucking good for me. You feel that? That's all for you. Always for you."
You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, meeting his frantic rhythm. The pleasure was building again, different this time, deeper, coiling from the place where you were joined together.
The sounds were obscene-the slick, wet sound of your joining, his guttural grunts, your high, breathy moans.
"Gonna come," he warned, his rhythm becoming erratic, brutal. "Where do you want it, baby? Tell me."
"Inside," you begged, lost to everything but him. "Please, Eddie."
That was his undoing. With a final, deep, grinding thrust that hit a spot inside you that made you see stars, he shouted your name, his body seizing up. You felt the hot, pulsing release of him deep inside you, and it triggered your own second, shattering climax, this one even more intense than the first. Your inner muscles clenched around him, milking him through his own release as you sobbed his name into his shoulder.
He collapsed on top of you, his full weight a welcome, solid anchor. You could feel his heart hammering against your own, a frantic, synchronized beat.
For a long time, the only sounds were your ragged breaths and the gentle lapping of the lake water outside.
Slowly, carefully, he shifted his weight to the side, pulling out with a soft hiss. He didn't let you go, though. He gathered you into his arms, pulling the blanket over your cooling, sweat-slicked skin. He pressed a kiss, impossibly soft and tender now, to your forehead.
"How are you?" he murmured, his voice hoarse.
You nuzzled into his chest, inhaling his familiar, beloved scent now mixed with the new, intimate scent of the two of you together. "Perfect."
He chuckled, a low, satisfied rumble.
"Took us long enough." He held you tighter. "Worth every second of the wait."
As you lay tangled together in the back of his beat-up van, listening to his heartbeat slow to a steady rhythm, you knew he was right. The universe had thrown everything it had at you, but it had failed. You were his, and he was yours. Finally, completely.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
*Heyyy. So this chapter might not be as long as they have been-- but I have a specific ending I want and I want it by itself.
Also , I thinking of writing a sequel called "Yes."
Betcha can't guess why! 😂
Also I edited this on my phone at work so I apologize if it's not perfect.
Chapter 9
Finale
---------
The next week or so, things began to get tense at home.
Damien was recording more and more at the studio fot his new show, which included seeing “Vee” every day. Even when she wasn’t recording she’d just show up to the studio unannounced, for “moral support”.
I was ready to kill her.
Of course Damien would tell me every day about her, and how the day went. Every little detail. Which was a good and bad thing, to be honest.
Sure, this way i knew he wasn’t hiding anything or doing anything wrong, but he also was blissfully unaware of how bringing him coffee and a morning donut everyday “just because” wasn’t just a “friendly” gesture. Especially when she bought them from a suggestive bakery, “just because it’s on the way.” The amount of penis pastries he was bringing home became slightly alarming.
Finally i had a day off when he was recording, so I decided to surprise him with lunch. I drove to the studio and told the security gate i was Damien’s girlfriend and had brought him some food. He called the what i guessed was the office to confirm, and a woman answered the phone. I could hear her through the speaker.
“Hello?”
“Yes ma’am, i have a Y/N here at the gate, says she’s the girlfriend of one of your actors” the guard spoke plainly.
There was a bunch of scuffling noises as if the woman was taking the phone elsewhere, then she spoke.
“Ah, nope! Nobody here has heard of a Y/N.”
My jaw dropped, my body heat rising with rage.
“She is a LIAR!!!!” I screamed angrily. This had to be Veronica, it had to be.
“Ma’am I’m going to need you to calm down,” the guard warned.
“She sounds like a hysterical fan, Roger.” The snide female voice spoke. “Don’t let her in here.”
“You STUPID BIT--” I began to scream louder, but Roger cut me off.
“That’s enough out of you!”
Then he spoke to the woman on the phone. “So sorry to bother you Miss Briarwood, i’ll make sure she leaves.”
“Thank you,” the woman’s sacchrine sweet voice replied before a “click” was heard.
“THis is riicilously---” i growled while calling Damien. It went straight to voicemail.
DAmmit he turned it off. Most likely to focus.
“Ma’am i’m going to have to ask you to leave--”
“No!” i argued. “Call them back and ask for Damien Haas! He will vouch for me!”
“Mmm, it sounded like Miss Vanessa did,” Roger pointed out.
“That was just noise! She was probably--”
“Ma’am, please just leave. Before i have to call for back up,”
“Oh i’d like to see you try, Paul Blart!” i screamed angrily.
Now the “studio” wasn’t huge; it was basically just a building with a security gate. So anyone outside of the building would have a clear view to where i was at the moment.
Thankfully, Damien had stepped outside to turn on his phone, and soon i heard my phone ring.
I picked it up iMMEDIATELY.
“Damien, please tell mall cop over here to let me in!” i said without so much as a “Hello”.
“What--? Y//N!” He saw me in my car, looking pissed as hell while the guard looked over to where I was directing my voice at.
“Sir!” He called. “SIr, do you know this woman?”
Damien was already speeding over and called back “Yeah! She’s my girlfriend!”
“SEE?!” I gestured at Damien with a smug smile.
“My mistake,” Roger said quietly before opening the gate.
I drove to where Damien was standing, my face still on fire.
“What are you doing here?” Damien asked in confusion.
“What am I--? I came by to surprise you!” I held up a small picnic basket. “I brought us lunch,”
“Oh, baby,” He gave me an apologetic smile. “Vee and I--”
“Oh of course,” i scoffed with a nasty laugh. “Of COURSE she already fed you,”
“Hey she didn’t ‘feed me’!” he replied defensively. “She just brought extra and offered--”
“Did you hear her?” i cut him off. “
“Hear her what?”
“Tell Robo cop over there that NO ONE here had a girlfriend?”
“WHat?” he asked in even more confusion. “Nah, no that’s not possible. I told her--”
“SHe doesn’t CARE, Damien!!!!” I stopped the car and got out, slamming the door.
“Jesus Christ, Y/N--” He stepped back. “Calm down, would you?! I work here!”
“No!” I stomped. “No i will not calm down!”
I was practically frothing at the mouth.
“That stupid BITCH is trying to get to you, and i am sick and tired of you being so fucking oblivious you can’t see what is right in front of you!!!!”
“That is SO unfair, and uncalled for.” Damien crossed his arms. “You kNOW i have problems with that, problems beyond my control--”
“Yeah, i know.” I sighed and put my hands on my face, dragging them down.
“So, what? You can’t trust me?”
“I trust you, i don’t trust her!”
“So?” He scoffed. “You can’t trust that i would shut her down if she hit on me--”
“NO!” I stomped my foot harder. “No i can’t trust you, because you’re incapable of doing so!”
“Oh, okay. So i’m a fucking moron now,” he huffed and rolled his eyes.
“I didn’t say that--”
“You didn’t have to,” he spat. “Y’know i might be shit at reading social cues but i’m PRETTY SURE if she had her tongue down my throat, i’d figure it out.”
“So you’re just gonna wait until that happense to do something about it?!!!” I gestured wildly.
Suddenly i spotted some workers looking out the windows of the office at us, and soon a skinny brunette with half a sundress on came walking out.
“Damien, is everything okay?” She asked with the most fake cutesy voice i’d ever heard.
“YOU!” I lunged for her, Damien barely grabbed me in time before i was on top of her.
“Y/N!” He yelled loudly, angrily. I’d never heard him use that tone with me, not even during our little spat at the office.
“This is NOT okay, do you hear me? You can’t just show up to my workplace and cause a fucking scene like this!”
“Are you-- are you serious right now?” I half laughed in disbelief, trying not to get emotional. He was taking her side. He was standing there in front of me, in front of HER, defending her.
“We’ll talk about this at home,” Damien lowered his voice while glancing at the windows, who were quickly clear of anyone.
“Like hell we will,” i growled. “DON’T come to my place when you get off, you hear me?”
“WHat?” He had to laugh in disbelief. “You can’t just ban me from my--”
“MY place. MINE. Is your name on the rent? I don’t think so.”
“No, but my children are there!”
“Your CATS, Damien.” I clarified before Miss “Vee” could start making a case on me being a monster keeping a father from his kids.
“They’re basically his kids--” she quietly corrected me with a smirk where Damien couldn't see
“Oh, don’t you DARE try and tell me--”
I could see Damien giving me a look, as in "don't make this worse."
“Yknow what why don’t I just send Courtney for them, then you can be by yourself for as long as you need.” I spat.
“You can always stay with me, Dam--” Vee offered sweetly.
“Oh you WITCH--” I lunged for her again at her audacity of actually hiitting on him in front of me.
“Y/N!!!!!!” Damien’s voice was even louder, and angrier than i’ve ever seen, or heard, ever. Period.
“LEAVE.”
“But she--!!” I gestured at the bimbo, who was still smirking behind me out of Damien’s eye line.
“NOW.”
After a moment of staring between the two of them, I shook my head with a tearful laugh.
“Y’know what, you can have him VEE.”
“W-What?” Damien’s voice now lowered several octaves, and shook a bit.
“You wanna take her side, her WORD over mine D, go ahead. But do NOT expect to just come back to me after you just defended her, and YELLED at me.”
“Y/N, baby that’s not--”
“DON’T.” i swung the door open and got in my car. “I’ll put your shit on the porch, you can tell whoever you want to come get it,”
“Y/N, don’t do this--” his voice was now sad and pleading.
But i was done listenting. I rolled up my window and peeled out of the parking lot. As i drove, i saw it in my mind’s eye so clearly on what was happening back at the studio.
Damien was probably super upset, maybe crying, and Vee was right there, all too ready to comfort him in her big brreasted embrace.
&------
After a few minutes of psyching myself out i had to pull over and cry. Cry HARD.
I checked my phone while i was parked-- he hadn’t even tried to call.
What have i done??
------------
Later that evening, i was curled up in my bed with all three kitties cuddling with me. It was almost too painful, the sheets smelled like him. The cats obviously smelled like him, and the apaetment.
I didn’t gather his stuff, i didn’t even try.
I didn’t want him to leave, i don’t know why i even suggested it. I was just so, SO angry. I knew i had a quick temper and didn’t always think things through when i spoke, clearly, but i shouldn’t have lost it like that. But he should’ve defended me. He should’ve said SOMETHING to her.
And now i had basically pushed him into his arms and he would be just vulnerable enough to let her, I knew it.
The whole thing just left me sobbing in our bed for hours after i got home, and here i was still.
Then the doorbell rang.
He had a key, why ddn’t he use it?
Oh god--
I leapt from the bed and power walked tom the door, swinging it open. Hoping it would be Damien, but knowing it wouldn’t be.
And i was right-- it was Courtney.
“Hey, Y/N--” She smiled awkwardly. “Can I…come in?”
I couldn’t even answer her, i just broke down sobbing again. She immediately took this as an invitation inside and grabbed me in a hug, shutting the door behind her.
“I didn’t mean it, Court.” I sobbed. “I don’t want him to leave, I can’t--” i was hyperventilating through sobs. “I can’t live without him!”
“I know, i know,” She rubbed my back and let me cry into her shoulder.
“...What am i gonna do?”
“Well, if it helps at all--” SHe led me to my couch to sit down. “He came straight to our place, just as upset as you are.”
“H-He did?” i sniffled.
“Well yeah!” She chortled shortly. “Y/N that man couldn’t be more in love with you if he tried. He’s not going to just give you up over a fight. If anything he’s fucking terrified you will,”
“....I need to see him,”
“Well, it’s a good thing you two are so alike.” She shook her head with a small smile as she texted someone.
In less than 30 seconds the door was swinging open, entering Shayne and a pretty rough looking Damien.
In fact he looked a lot like I knew i must look. Red and puffy from crying for hours.
I didn’t even hesitate to run past shayne and grab Damien in my arm’s as if he’d disappear if i didn’t. In turn, he latched onto me as if the same thing would happen to me.
“We’re just gonna-- go,” Shayne whispered as Courtney followed him out of the apartment.
The door shut behind them and we both stood there, crying in each other’s arms for a moment.
Finally i stopped long enough to look into his bloodshot eyes.
“I’m sorry,” i whispered in a hoarse voice. It was practically gone from all the crying.
“I know,” He nodded and rubbed my face with his thumb.
Wait.. what?
“You know?” I pulled back from the hug.
“Yeah….?” He looked at me quizzically.
“What about you?”
“What about me?” He seemed genuinely oblivious he'd done anything wrong.
“You YELLED at me! In front of that--”
“Don't call her any names,” Damien warned, making me even angrier.
“Oh yeah, defend her.” I scoffed as I completely pulled away from him.
“She didn't do anything wrong --”
“She LIED to the guard to keep me away from you!’
“That was just a misunderstanding,” he insisted.
“A misunderstanding?” I parroted in a mocking tone. “What, did she ‘misunderstand’ that you have a girlfriend?”
“No, well--’
“Oh my God.” I exhaled in disbelief.
“She just forgot,”
“She FORGOT?” I raised my voice again while clenching my fists so I wouldn’t punch a wall.
“It was a momentary lapse of judgement, Y/N. That’s all. A big misunderstanding--”
“NO.” I cut him off. “NO, I will not let you dismiss me or gaslight me into thinking that woman has no ill intentions for me.” I huffed and walked towards my bedroom.
“Gaslighting?!” He yelled, genuinely hurt by the comment. He’d never gaslight ANYONE, most of all you.
“I’m not! I’m not I swear to God Y/N I just--” He came upon me curled up on the bed and facing the wall.
“I just don’t see it,” he finished softly, standing in the doorway.
He was sincerely apologetic, but also distressed. How could he know whether this was a “tism thing, or I really was being paranoid? He sighed and turned around to walk back to the living room. When I heard retreating footsteps I turned around.
“Where are you going?!” I called after him.
“I um, I’m gonna see if I catch Shayne,” he mumbled as he texted Shayne.
“Are you serious?” I stomped into the living room. “You can’t just run to Shayne when we have a fight--”
“I’m not!” He turned on his heels to face me. His face was full of anxiety, he was shaking.
“I just-- i need a minute, okay?”l
“Damien--” I lowered my voice.
I was torn; i definitely knew i had reason to be mad, but also i knew at some level this wasn’t on him. But that makes it worse because i can’t do anything about it.
“...Okay,” I shrugged as i went to go sit down on the couch. He caught me as i passed him and gave him a long, hungry kiss.
“What was that?” I asked dreamily, almost forgetting what we were fighting about.
“I just…i need you to know how much i love you,” he stroked my hair and face. “And i know this-- this isn’t okay, but i just-- i need this. Is that okay?”
“...Yeah,” I ruffled his hair with a polite smile.
“I appreciate you lying,” He gave me a sad smile back before kissing my head and walking out the door.
Well, obviously I knew what i needed to do. I grabbed my phone and texted:
“Hey can you come back over?"
-----------------------
Soon Courtney was at my door once again, this time loaded with ice cream.
“Oh hell yes!” I clapped my hands excitedly and let her in.
“Wait--” a feel of dread washed over me. “...Is this for a breakup talk?”
“No!” Courtney shook her head as she went to set the cartons of ice cream on the table. The cats immediately jumped on the table, wanting to get to the tasty treats.
“Shoo!” I waved them off gently while i got spoons and bowls.
“So, how much do you know?” I asked while scooping some cookie dough ice cream out of the tub.
“You mean do i eavesdrop on conversations?”
“Sure,”
“Well, i know this “Veronica” chick is a twat,”
“I know right?!”
“Mmm hmm, definitely.” She said with a mouth full of rocky road.
“Do you really think Damien is that…dense?” ‘
“Dense? No. Oblivious? Yeah,”
“Same thing,”
“No, being dense is being gullible, or stupid. Damien’s not stupid he’s just--”
“Impaired.” i gestured with my spoon.
“Yeah,”
“I just-- i don’t know how to take this on,” I sighed in exasperation. “Other than killing Vanessa,”
“Well, let’s think a little bit harder before we move to felonies,” Courtney chuckled.
“You got any better ideas?” I asked her half seriously.
“......not off the top of my head.”
“Great.” I put my hands over my face and laid back against the couch.
“It's okay, just breathe….” she rubbed my back. Then after a moment, she said:
“I think you should just talk it out with him.”
“I've TRIED --”
“REALLY talk,” she eyed me. “The Damien way”
“....Yeah I know,” I sighed in frustration.
I wanted us to be okay, and usually I didn't mind talking it out but sometimes it was just ..a lot.
We talked a little more about other things until Courtney got a text from Shayne
“Well, that's my cue.” She showed me the text which just had a 👍🏻.
“You two have your own language I swear.”
“It's true!” She giggled. She stood up to leave and gave me a hug.
---
A few minutes after she left, Damien came walking through the door.
“Hey,” I nodded at him while looking at my phone.
“You still mad?” I could hear him trying not to get defensive.
“Depends.” I looked at him as he came to sit next to me.
“You got something to say to me?"
“.....I'm sorry” he said with a genuine sad smile.
“For ….?”
“For taking Vanessa's side over yours.” He played with my fingers.
“How so?” I raised an eyebrow. It was like I was quizzing him on apologies.
“I should've believed you when you said she was lying. It really doesn't make sense she just ‘forgot’ you existed.”
“Do you really believe that or did Shayne tell you to say that?”
“Jesus Christ Y/N what do you want from me?!” he raised his voice and clenched his fists. I could tell all he wanted to do was run away, and I wasn’t helping.
“...Okay,” I nodded softly as i took his hand.
“Okay?” He asked, even though he was terrified to question it.
“I believe you, D,” I pulled close into me and laid my head on his chest. I could feel his heart beating a million miles a minute as he lightly trembled both in anger and stress.
I shouldn’t be doing this; I shouldn’t be putting my trust issues on him like this. I know deep down in my heart of hearts he would NEVER let anything happen between him and Vanessa. No matter how hard she might try.
“I think…..i think I might know how to prove it to you,”
“WHat?” I sat up straight. “Baby, no. This was my fault, i shouldn’t have--”
“No, i know. But-- I know how hard it is to be in a relationship with me and--”
“Don’t.” i cut him off sternly. “Don’t ever say that.”
“It is though,” he pointed out. “And maybe i can’t put into words just how much I love you, and how i wanna spend the rest of my life with you, and only you. So--
"Oh my God,” my breath hitched in my throat as he went for his pocket.
“Damien, no.” i gripped his hand. “Don’t do this for me. Don’t do it because you think you need to--”
“I’m not.” He smiled without a beat. “You think I just went out and bought this today?”
He pulled a small diamond ring and presented it to me. Not even in a ring box, just one of his D20 bags.
“...How long have you been carrying that?” I asked quietly, never taking my eyes off the piece of gold he was holding betwixt his thumb and first finger.
“A few weeks, maybe a month-- it’s not important,” he dismissed the question, making me giggle quietly.
“I was just waiting on the right time. I wanted it to be-- big, special, spectacular, like you deserve--”
“Damien,” i touched his knee. “I don’t need--”
“I know it’s what you want,” He gave me a look.
“Dammit Court…” i mumbled angrily. Why would she tell him! She probably told Shayne, and Shayne told him.
“But-- i think if you have something physical to hold onto, it might make you feel more secure with our relationship.”
“Oh, D--” i went to protest again.
“So, Shayne told me you shouldn’t propose before talking about it, and making sure it’s what you both want--”
“I want, I WANT.”
“Are you gonna let me finish a sentence here?!” He laughed at my eagerness.
“Sorry,” i blushed sheepishly.
“So, I’ll say this--” He took my hand. “I have this. I bought this. I realize i didn’t ask your opinion on it, but--”
“It’s perfect!” i squeaked. Damien gave me an exasperated smile. “Sorry. Continue”
“But now you know. But when you least expect it, you’re gonna get one hell of an ‘official’ proposal--”
He took my hand and started to put the ring on.
“But for now, you can wear it so EVERYONE knows--”
“I don’t want it,” I pushed it back.
“W-What?” all color drained from his face. “You don’t--”
“I don’t wear the ring until you really want me to have it.” I added it quickly.
“But I do want you to--”
“I don’t want to wear it like a brand.” i clarified.
“I’m not trying to--” he protested.
“On YOU,” I assured him. “I don’t want to parade around so people know you’re MINE.”
“....I’ll never understand you,” he shook his head with a laugh.
“I know you have it.” I stroked his face. “That’s all i need to know,”
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,”
We relaxed against each other and turned the TV on.
“....You realize I just go on weekends, right?” he gave me the side eye. “You could theoretically come with me,”
“I don’t need to follow you every weekend Damien--”
He gave me a look.
“....I mean, maybe just a few.” I innocently smiled.
