#YOU THINK I KNOW CONNECTED WITH THE HAND TO HEART SLAPS FOR BOTH I LOVE SLIGHT COMPOUNDED MEANING WITH VARIATION IN MEDIA | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lunargrapejuice · 3 months

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what she likes

alhaitham x fem!reader x kaveh | 3.2k+ words

♡ collab fic written with my love @gojipink ♡

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, threesome but implied reader is in a relationship with alhaitham, dom!alhaitham, he man handles you both a lil<3 and is for sure in charge here, a little subby kaveh, clit spanking, fingering, oral (m!receiving), praise, the boys bicker, cream pie, cum eating

kaveh was utterly breathless at the sight of beauty in front of him; the kind of vision that left you burning and aching, one he couldn’t have even dreamed of but by the erratic beating of his heart and the hardness of his cock, he knew this was real.

it was no secret that you and alhaitham were beautiful humans, even more so together, but like this, you were both ethereal. your bare skin against alhaithams, having even touched his own as you passed by him as if to remind him he was here to be a part of this too, that you wanted him here.

from his spot at the foot of the bed, kaveh watches with slow breaths as alhaitham guides you between his muscular legs, the two of you sharing a deep kiss before he pressed your back to his chest, letting the architect get a glimpse of your glistening pussy as you arched to reach alhaitham.

he swallows, feeling his cock twitch, as alhaitham spreads your legs wide and you’re splayed out before him like a goddess. your already labored breaths and alhaitham heavy ones were like a melody, the rise and fall of your chest drew him in like the tide, the path of your tummy to between your legs a canvas he wanted to litter with his affections.

and when alhaitham touched you, the well cared for fingers of the scribe coating in your essence after so little touching, one swipe over your folds from your little hole to your clit but not giving either nearly enough attention yet, kaveh swore-

a wet slap fills the room and as if he hadn’t seen it the first time, alhaitham slaps your clit again with four of his fingers, making you jerk against him and choke back a moan, your head falling back on his chest.

“hey!” kaveh exclaims, the sudden roughness with you breaking him from his dreamlike haze. “that’s mean!”

“it’s not mean,” alhaitham answers plainly.

“you don’t need to be so rough with her, you brute.”

“can you not see how much she’s enjoying this?” and is if to emphasize his point, he does it again, just a bit harder this time and even though you whimper alhaithams name, you spread your legs wider. “you wouldn’t be able to make her cum like this, so stop acting like you know what you're talking about.”

“i don’t need to do that,” he says the word like a curse, “to make her cum.”

“oh?”

before either of them can say more, your breathy voice quiets their bickering.

“kaveh~” with a shaky hand you reach out for him and easily he follows.

you’re nearly completely pressed between the two of them as he leans in to kiss you soft and slow, swiping his tongue along your bottom lip before his tongue meets yours. warm calloused fingers brush against his temple, alhaitham tucking a lock of hair behind his ear as he kisses you.

the tender display is short lived when alhaitham opens his mouth, the smirk he wears, as he knows better, laced in every word. “i don’t think you’ll make her cum with your lips alone, senior.”

with a throaty grumble, kaveh pulls away from you panting, a string of silvia connecting your lips that breaks when he says breathlessly, “you’re so beautiful.”

kneeling between yours and alhaithams spread legs, with his cock leaking breads of precum, kaveh touches you like you’re the most delicate thing. the tips of his fingers parting your folds with attention and care before pressing against your clit and rubbing in circling motions that make you mewl softly.

your back arches off of alhaithams broad chest when kaveh slowly eases a finger into your tight hole, biting his bottom lip at this small feeling of you and by the time he’s knuckle deep, curling into you, he doesn’t know how long he’s going to last like this.

after a few pumps, he adds another and finds the perfect spot inside of you that has you seeing stars and you’re lifting your hips with every tender movement, every stroke inside of you that’s somehow not enough and too much, in a way that’s so different from alhaitham.

“see! she likes it soft too!” kaveh glares at alhaitham who was watching his ministrations over your shoulder, giving kaveh a chance even if he knew what the outcome would be.

alhaitham scoffs, “you think i dont know what she likes? that i dont know what makes her cum the hardest? at the pace you're setting, she wont cum for another two hours.” he talks like he knows, like he’s actually calculated the time.

kaveh gives alhaitham a little hmph! before turning his head back towards you, his eyes immediately softening at the sight of your furrowed brows and half-lidded eyes staring back at him. his fingers gently massaging your walls while his thumb traces light barely-there circles on your clit, a dizzying contrast between the bruising pace alhaitham set just minutes before.

nuzzling his cheek against your inner thigh, he presses sweet kisses against your soft skin,

“y/n, you like it like this too, right? he’s being too rough with you,” he pouts. “your pussy’s too perfect and pretty to be treated so harshly.”

before you could even open your mouth to give a reassuring reply, alhaitham grips onto kaveh’s wrist tugging his fingers out of you making you gasp out at the sudden loss of contact. you swear you could cry at the loss of kavehs fingers but your heart races at the loss of patience alhaitham was displaying.

their bickering was cute, you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind.

“alright, that's enough.” alhaitham snaps, moving from behind you. “get up, kaveh.”

“wh-what no! that's not fair, i barely even started!”

“you're not doing it right! go sit behind her, i’ll do it the way she wants, show you how to make her feel good.”

except that really could mean anything because alhaitham had made you feel good in countless ways. despite his protests to kavehs gentleness, alhaitham had loved you plenty like that too.

“she didn't even say anythi-ow!!”

alhaitham roughly grabs at the back of his neck, guiding him from between your legs and giving him a shove onto the bed near you. kaveh lets out a surprised muffled whimper when his face hits the pillow, unwillingly turned on even more due to alhaitham’s manhandling and the friction his aching dick receives when pressed into the plush covers.

kaveh’s about to whip around and cuss alhaitham out when your fingers soothingly comb through his hair. turning his head towards you, his words die down in his throat as he takes in your effortless beauty. cheeks dusted pink, lips puffy and red, your hair slightly tousled- he swears you're the most lovely being he's ever laid eyes on.

you giggle at his staring, sitting up to brush your fingers against his cheek. “c’mere, kaveh,” you tenderly beckon.

he whines your name sweetly while crawling towards you, “he’s being mean, tell him! he’ll only listen to you.”

you only laugh more while making room for him to sit behind you. his hands coming up to caress your arms as you situate yourself comfortably against his chest. you lean into him, sighing when he peppers soft kisses along your cheek, jaw, and shoulder. turning your head to face him with a hand cupping your jaw, he leans his forehead against yours.

“just wanna be good for you, y/n…” he mumbles quietly, brushing the tip of his nose against yours in tender sweeps. “just wanna worship you, hm? you want that too, right? too beautiful to be thrown around by that brute.” emphasizing the word by turning his head slightly to glare at alhaitham who was settling himself between your parted legs, rolling his eyes at kaveh’s attempted insult.

you only smile at their antics before reaching a hand up to tangle in kavehs hair, free from its normal clips, guiding his lips to press against yours. sighing into the kiss, kaveh’s hands gently slide up your sides before finding their way to your chest. kaveh lightly squeezes at the same time alhaitham slides two thick fingers inside you making you gasp out in surprise, your fingers in kavehs hair roughly tugging at silky strands.

letting out a choked moan against your lips, he can't help but press his leaky cock against your back searching for any kind of relief and it doesn’t go unnoticed by the scribe who looks as though he’s won something.

“c’mon, kaveh.” alhaitham warns, “you said you wanted to make her feel good, right? do something for her.”

he does but not because alhaitham told him to. you look so perfect laying against him like this, holding the back of his skull as he kisses along your lips, cheeks and neck, savoring the taste of your sweet skin and squeezing handfuls of your breasts.

“‘haitham!” you suddenly cry out at the pace he starts to set with his digits stuffed inside of you and the thumb he has pressed to your clit to only add to this near drugging pleasure.

you’re so wet the lewd sounds echo throughout the room and when kaveh pulls away from your supple skin, your whimpers of protest join the sound alhaitham is making with his fingers that pump in and out of you, pressing into your g spot like he’s memorized it’s place, and you know he has.

“please ‘haitham more..” you beg oh so sweetly.

“see? i told you,” alhaitham remarks, both of them watching you writhe around his fingers, your chest bouncing lightly with every movement, your hand in kavehs hair trembling and tugging tight every time he’s knuckles deep and giving you exactly what you asked for.

a mumble of “yeah.. but still,” falls from kavehs lips, wanting nothing more than to worship you with every gentle caress you deserved but unable to deny the way he feels watching you now, taking alhaitham so well.

ruby eyes roll to the back of kavehs head at the feeling of your hand in his hair at a partially hard tug when alhaitham turned relentless but when they come back to you, he’s in such awe watching your jaw slacken and your eyes flutter shut, your hands reaching for any part of him you could.

not taking his eyes off of you for another moment, kavehs hands travels down your arching sides and over your heaving breasts as your orgasm washes over you, gushing and throbbing around alhaithams fingers, rippling throughout your body and making you shake. kaveh didn’t think you could get any more beautiful but he had never seen you like this.

you collapse against kavehs chest but he’s there to gently bring you down from your high. rubbing your arms and sides in soothing motions that made you melt while praises of good girl and did so well spilled from his lips in between wet kisses pressed down your neck, all the while alhaitham kneads the plush of your thighs, laying sweet kisses along your knees and calves.

you were basking in euphoric love, tingling with every kiss they gave you and heard the thumping of heart beats following after each other, not knowing which belonged to who.

“okay, love,” alhaithams coos with one last kiss to your leg, “turn around, come on,” he pats your thigh signaling you to start moving, his other hand trying to help you turn around with ease.

“give her a second, you ass!” kaveh snaps at him, wrapping a protective arm around your shoulders to keep your still trembling figure in place.

alhaitham rolls his eyes before giving your thigh a rougher smack, smirking at kaveh when you moan out.

kaveh turns his focus towards you, a warm hand caressing your face, always speaking to you so much softer than he did to alhaitham. “angel, don't listen to him. you wanna take a break?”

his concern is so sweet it actually makes you laugh, breathless and happy, a sound that makes kaveh’s chest feel fuzzy and head a little dizzy. it affects alhaitham too, making his chest warm and his cock even harder, glad to know you’re enjoying yourself too.

“i’m okay, kaveh,” you try to sooth him with a kiss to his palm that still held your face. “i can handle him, i promise.” with a giggle, you hope he’ll believe you while beginning to twist around in his hold.

“but-!” kaveh starts but is quickly silenced when you press your lips to his, slow and passionate.

breaking the kiss, you whisper to him, like a secret shared just between the two of you, not meant for alhaitham to hear. “just follow his lead, kaveh. it'll feel so good when you do, i promise.” you kiss him again, your words melting into his lips. “let alhaitham take care of us, okay?”

his cock involuntarily twitches at the thought of letting alhaitham have complete control over the situation. he wants to be defiant, wants to yell out no! but he can't help the way it makes his stomach twist in the most delicious way.

and even if he didn’t want to voice it, he trusted you, trusted alhaitham.

swallowing thickly, cheeks blushing furiously, a color that looked so pretty on him, kaveh gives you a small nod.

behind you, alhaitham grabs at your hips leading you to shift further down on the bed and effortlessly you follow. he brings a palm to your cheek and turns your head to the side before capturing your lips in a dizzying kiss. sliding his tongue past your lips, he opens his eyes slightly to look down at kaveh to make sure he’s watching, all the while all you can focus on is alhaitham.

the amber of his eyes seem to glow and kaveh’s hands tremble slightly as he balls the bedsheets up in his fist, biting his cheek to hold in a snarky remark or to steel himself to not flinch away at alhaitham’s condescending glance.

taking a shaking breath in, kaveh starts to shift his weight to join the two of you until alhaitham speaks, breathing away from you but keeping you close to him, leaving you panting in his hold. “kaveh, stay.”

im not a dog! kaveh wants to yell out but his body betrays him by reacting immediately and staying put. he huffs out a breath in frustration but his throbbing cock tells alhaitham everything he needs to know.

he hadn’t expected kaveh to listen to him so easily but alhaitham was quite enjoying the fact that he had.

“good boy,” alhaitham viciously teases and kaveh can't help but bite his lip hard. trying to stop the whimper threatening to escape him, trying to ignore how his cock bounces from the strength of its twitches, precum pooling onto the sheets.

with one last kiss, deep and full of tongue, alhaitham has you moving back to face kaveh and grabbing your hips with the totally normal strength of a ‘feeble scholar’, folding you over ass up so his hips are flush with yours and with one hand alhaitham grabs the base of his cock, guiding it up and down your sensitive pussy over and over again.

you take kaveh’s aching dick into your hands, pumping him slowly, mouth watering at the thought of having his pretty cock in your mouth. “see, isn't it better?” you tease and kaveh sighs, bringing his hands up to delicately move your hair out of your face.

“i…im not answering that,” he grumbles, cheeks burning bright red but gods he can’t look away from you.

you giggle poking out your tongue to kitten lick at his swollen pink tip, kaveh drawing in a shuddering breath at the feeling of your warm breath and hot tongue on him.

“y-y/n, you really d-dont have to do th- mmph! w-wait! mmmh!”

kaveh’s hips buck and flinch, the stimulation all too much for his aching dick that hasn't been touched in what feels like hours, feeling harder than it ever had before tonight with both you and alhaitham here.

your sultry hums around his dick have him throwing his head back into the pillow, blonde hair cascading down the shoulders and over the plush pillows with a golden waterfall, relishing the way the vibrations mixed with your languid bobs, taking him into your mouth deep and deeper, have his head spinning.

both of you are so enraptured by each other, your head only filled with the way kaveh’s cock feels so good dragging across your tongue and the way his hands are so gentle pulling back your hair you're nowhere near prepared for alhaitham to shove his heavy cock into your tight hole. the force of his thrust causing you to surge forward in surprise, taking kaveh all the way deep in your throat.

he yells out in shocked and ecstasy, hitting the back of your throat and feeling it contract around him.

“a-ah! mmph-! alhaitham,wait! f-fuck!!” kaveh chokes out struggling to stabilize you to keep you from repeatedly surging forward, swallowing his cock whole.

“ ‘s fine,” alhaitham pants out, hips thrusting powerfully against you, his hands on your hips helping you fuck yourself back on him, silvery bangs sticking to his forehead but even through his messy hair he can see you both beneath him.

kaveh struggles to wrap his mind around the pace alhaitham’s set for all of you, deep and rough and fast than he can keep up with. tears dot his lashes as he tries to stop his fast coming orgasm at the feeling of your mouth taking him so perfectly, there’s no way he’ll last long like this.

“kaveh,” alhaitham said lowly, “don’t cum.”

looking up at him in shock, gasping for air while your still deep throating him, little chokes and moans around his length that barely fit all the way in your throat but his eyes nearly cross at the feeling of alhaitham bullying his thick cock into your cervix and kaveh’s twitching length slides all the way back in your throat, the deepest you’d taken him.

alhaitham feels your velvety walls tighten around his cock, squeezing him so tightly he had to force himself to hold back for just a little longer.

“‘haitham-” kaveh grits out through clenched teeth, trying to listen regardless.

“not until she does,” alhaitham breaths out, his thrusts slowly going off rhythm and kaveh feels it too. “gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” alhaitham coos at you, his tone so different from the way his cock is thrusting in and out of your cunt.

as if you could answer with your mouth full of kaveh but he knew you were close and brought you over the edge of bliss, reaching between your legs to rub at your clit as he pounds into you and feels you clench and squeeze around his cock so tightly he could hardly breath as he spills into you.

kaveh follows right after, not meaning to cum down your throat without asking but he hadn’t a moment to pull away or stop himself when you gagged and sucked him so sweetly and he didn’t know whos orgasm he was feeling the most, his own generously being swallowed by your pretty mouth, your own throbbing in your throat around him, alhaithams heavy lidded eyes looking down at him as he took deep heaving breaths.

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luveline · 1 year

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𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

part one | part two | part three

You don’t mean to make an enemy of Eddie Munson — he’s handsome and talented, but he’s the biggest jerk you’ve ever met. Eddie thinks you’re infuriatingly pretty, emphasis on the infuriating. Eddie goes home, you’re on tour, and the lines between you both continue to blur.

fem!reader, enemies-to-lovers, rival rockstars, mutual pining, kisses! tender neck kisses <3, past miscommunication, angst, hurt-comfort, sexual tension, TW mentioned recreational drug use, drinking, smoking, swearing

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Hawkins, Indiana, December 1990

Eddie listens to his walkman until it runs out of juice. Through the flight from California to Indianapolis, the hours-long bus ride that stops just short of Hawkins, and the final connecting bus on the outskirts. Some metalheads listen to strictly metal, but Eddie likes variety occasionally. Plus, he doesn’t think it’s possible to have ears and not love The Rolling Stones’ Some Girls.

He has one girl on his mind the entire journey home. He tries not to think about you. He makes himself sick shoving you down into a crevice of his heart, so he admits defeat. His fingers twitch, eager to write about you. He has some lyrics in mind. Evil wretched girl with wicked sweet hands. Heart eater. Soft around the edges.

He wants to write about your stupid chubby thighs and how they look in skirts. He wants to write about your wrists, your knees and their ever-present bruises. Metaphors for your sickly sweetness won’t stick; cruel becomes kind. Taunting turns teasing.

It feels like it’s eating him alive, spine first. You’re gnawing on his ribs as he hikes the half a mile from the bus stop into Forest Hills trailer park. He can feel your thumb rubbing makeup off of his cheek as he drags his suitcase up the metal steps to Wayne’s —Eddie’s— front door.

“Wayne?” he calls. It’s pitch fucking dark. He’s surprised he got all the way here without falling in some ditch. “Could you let me in? It’s freezing.”

He hears stirring from inside. He calls out again in case his uncle changes his mind. “Wayne, it’s me. I’m sorry it’s late. Please don’t leave me out here.”

He’s joking. Wayne would sooner shoot Eddie dead than put him in harm's way. He’s always been that kind of parent, hiding his deep rooted worry underneath a feigned reluctance. Footsteps shuffle and floorboards creak. The door opens between them, and Eddie shoves his suitcase and backpack inside without properly looking at his old man.

“Eddie, what the fuck, kid?”

“Sorry,” Eddie says, looking up. Wayne’s squinting at him. He’s wearing jeans with deep creases. He must’ve been sleeping in them. “I timed it all wrong. Started coming home and I didn’t think about it. I walked here, you know that?”

Wayne hugs him. Eddie isn’t expecting it. It’s not like Wayne isn’t affectionate, he doles out shoulder claps and hair ruffles like candy, but their hugs are usually one-armed back-slapping affairs. This is a loose encircling with a scratchy cheek against Eddie’s forehead.

“I’ve been worrying about you.”

Guilt sinks like a stone to the bottom of his stomach. Eddie kind of feels like he might puke. He wraps his arms around his uncle and breathes in his smell. Diesel and grease, sure, but so much louder than that is his mint and rosemary soap.

The weight of Wayne’s arms over Eddie’s shoulders is one of his favourite feelings. He hadn’t realised how much he missed it, but then… maybe he had.

He wants to tell Wayne there’s no need to worry, but he’s never been good at lying to him. “Think I might have fallen off the wagon, Wayne.”

“Well. Happens to all of us.” He pats Eddie’s back and steps away. He doesn’t look any older than the last time Eddie saw him. In fact, he looks good. Puffy-eyed but healthy. “I thought for sure I’d have to come track you down and drag you back for Christmas myself.”

Eddie locks the door and Wayne shuffles into the kitchen promising coffee and cake. He should protest, tell Wayne he can go back to bed and they’ll catch up in the morning, but he missed the small stuff like this, when he’d get home late from band practice or a midnight premiere of a sci-fi flick and his uncle would be sitting up waiting.

Eddie loves being home. There’s something to be said about living like the rich —he loves all the high ceilings and endless cushy carpeting— but nothing feels as good as coming home. His room is exactly how he left it minus a few ashtrays and his super unsecret pot stash. The poster wallpaper and the cheap paint. His raggedy bedspread and the corners tucked in haphazardly by tired hands. Eddie resists the want to dive under the covers and slide into the dip in his mattress. He knows every box spring in that fucker, and he missed it.

Eddie drops his bags at the end of the bed. All the clothes in his suitcase smell like Coors Light, so he changes into rags he left behind, a too-big pair of plaid pyjamas that slip down his hips and a sleeveless Motörhead shirt. Maybe. The emblem is worn to nothing but black lines.

He follows the smell of coffee through the hallway and into the Munson kitchen, tightening the drawstrings of his pants as he goes, chin tucked to his chest. “I’m losing weight, Wayne, I’m like a fucking twig.”

“Don’t tell me that shit. God knows I taught you how to take care of yourself.”

“I’m stupid. I’m really stupid, actually.”

Wayne whacks the coffee maker. It whirs. “Pick a mug, son.”

“You been cleaning? I don’t wanna look down and see a spider in my cup.”

“Have you been cleaning?” Wayne asks.

“It’s insane how much I haven’t been cleaning.”

“Some things don’t change.”

“You fucker,” Eddie says, laughing up a storm as he picks out his favourite mug, the Garfield one with a big scratch down the left side.

“You fucker,” Wayne snaps back. “I should send you packing for the bad language alone.”

“They don’t make you clean your hotel rooms, Wayne, that’s the point of them.”

“I raised you better than that.”

“You did. I keep it classy, I swear, I just,” —Eddie sits down in his chair, watching Wayne stir in milk and sugar just the way he likes it, and feels more than sees as a familiar contentedness like a Gaussian film settles over their easy conversation— “don’t clean up after Gareth. He’s a monster.”

“Do me a favour, Eds. Try and be the best you can be, alright?”

He swallows. He purses his lips. A peculiar lump grows in his throat, but he bites it back and squares himself up. “Yeah. I will.” He thinks about all the parties and powders and girls. He’s never done any cruel shit to anybody and he’s a sweetheart with the ladies, but there are times when he’d known he was lying before he even said he’d call. He thinks about some of the shit he’s said to you and has to wipe his sweaty palms off on his shirt.

“I know we didn’t have shit when you were growing up,” Wayne says, not tearful or resentful, just honest as he passes Eddie his mug of coffee and sits down. “And all that money must feel good–”

“It’s not like that,” Eddie says.

“When I see my nephew on TV smashing up equipment worth more than his house–”

“I already told you on the phone it was an accident. And it wouldn’t be worth more than this if you actually cashed the cheques I send you. I know they aren’t bouncing.”

“I don’t want your money, Eddie,” Wayne says gently. It’s odd but not uncommon to hear him speak in such dulcet tones. “That’s not what I raised you for.”

“I know, you–” He cuts his insult off at the stem and scratches his head instead.

Eddie isn’t hankering for a tongue lashing tonight and his scalp is too itchy to focus. He hasn’t washed his hair in a week. It’s obvious just looking at him, curls weighed down and straightened out from the sheer grossness of it. “Shit, I’m disgusting,” he says.

“You’re gross,” Wayne agrees. “I’ll cash a cheque when the bank opens and get you a bottle of degreaser.”

Eddie hides his smile with a long sip of coffee. It’s hot and awful, ‘cause no matter how much love Wayne puts into it, dollar store coffee tastes like burnt grounds from the get go. Eddie missed it more than anything. Sometimes he’s in the back of the queasy tour bus or lying on the floor in his hotel room coming down off of something risky and all he can think about is Wayne’s coffee.

Wayne has a hard and fast rule about drugs: if it isn’t green, I don’t want you touching it. Eddie still remembers the gasket he blew when he found that little baggy of red and white pills shoved inside an altoids tin. He can’t imagine telling his uncle what he really meant when he said he fell off the wagon.

Hey, Uncle Wayne, I have this weird love-hate relationship with a girl I don’t really know, and I got caught up doing party drugs (unrelated to our relationship) until I got so high I blacked out, and when I woke up she was there and she was looking at me like you look at a bird with a broken wing, you know? Anyway, the memory of her face won’t leave me alone. It makes me feel like crying. So I haven’t touched anything in two weeks and I thought coming home for Christmas would make up for all the secrets I’m keeping, but now—

Now Eddie doesn’t know what he was thinking. He can’t tell Wayne any of that shit. He wouldn’t even know where to start.

Wayne would ask something like, It took a girl for you to realise drugs are bad news? And Eddie would say back, No, that’s not it, it wasn’t just her.

“I’m sooooo fucked,” Eddie says slowly, mildly, scrubbing his eyes with the tips of his fingers. He drags his hands down his face and blinks against the burning he’s left in his wake.

“You’re not fucked, kid. Lemme cut you a slice of cake.”

Wayne cuts him a slice of cranberry coffee cake and Eddie eats it in two bites. Wayne makes him a burger after that. He doesn’t know what time it is, if it’s closer to night or morning, but Wayne doesn’t mention it until the burger’s gone and an alarm clock is ringing. Eddie watches his uncle truck into the living room and feels crestfallen though he doesn’t deserve to. Eddie hasn’t been home in months. He imagines Wayne alone at the kitchen table with an empty greasy plate waiting on him and wants to cry again.

Wayne returns in coveralls. He gets a good look at Eddie’s face and sighs, dropping a heavy hand into Eddie’s dark hair.

“It’ll be fine,” Wayne says.

I’m sorry, Eddie thinks. For being a bad kid.

He’d said that once. Wayne was sweeping up a smashed plate after a long shift and Eddie, thirteen and defeated with an ache where his mom should’ve been, had been trying to apologise. It had felt so crushing, that broken plate. The last straw. He’d had tears running down his pale cheeks, his hands in his hoodie pocket desperately grabbing at one another.

And when he’d said it, Wayne had just looked at him. On his knees with a brush, glass shards shining on the linoleum between them.

You think you’re a bad kid?

Wayne isn’t old and he definitely hadn’t been back then. Thirty something with a crying teenager and what felt like all the world's self-loathing crammed into a tiny kitchen. Eddie’s older now, and he knows how much Wayne gave up for him. Not just his bedroom, which had been relinquished with little more than a shoulder squeeze and five dollars for posters, but a life. Wayne could’ve done anything. Could’ve been a rockstar.

I ruin everything, he’d said. Teenage angst, maybe, but Eddie felt it in his bones.

You ain’t ruined anything.

He hadn’t known what to say so he’d cried, waiting for that nice heavy hand that tussles his hair and pats his back to finally strike out.

Eds, you’re not a bad kid. Said so quietly. With a steadiness that meant truth. You’re my kid. Could I make a bad kid?

And yeah, there had been a threshold of sincerity and they were passing it. It was the late 70’s. Boys really didn’t cry. At least, not in public. So Eddie wiped his snotty nose in his sleeve and laughed, and then he got on his knees to clean up.

“Try and sleep,” Wayne says now, older but unchanged otherwise. Still ridiculously forgiving of his not-so-young sprog. He looks at Eddie with his lips pressed together. Eddie wonders if he’s going to hug him again, but Wayne shakes his head. “Shower, you animal. I’ll be back early.”

Eddie sleeps. He showers. He washes his hair three times and doesn’t use conditioner so his curls don’t really curl but it’s fine. It doesn’t matter. He had a moment in the shower where he swore he remembered something you said to him when he was blackout on sniff cut with procaine and booze. Your voice tentative, the heat of your hand on his cheek. “Are you okay?”

He moans into his damp hands, limp hair hanging either side of his head and dripping into his pyjama pants. He can’t forgive his younger self for all the sleeveless shirts, not when Hawkins feels colder than the arctic circle and the window seal in the kitchen has been leaky for the last five years.

He thinks about going shopping, because no matter what Wayne says about degreaser, Eddie’s starting to realise that his uncle won’t be cashing any of the cheques he sent home, and if he wants Wayne taken care of he’s gonna have to do this shit himself, but he doesn’t know where his key is.

“I’m a fuck up,” he says, catching his eye in the mirror as he straightens out.

His reflection frowns at him.

He did manage to get Wayne some shit from California before he came home; a real brown leather jacket from the 60s with minimal wear, though if Wayne wears it is another thing entirely; a Roy Orbinson record that’s miraculously unwarped despite Eddie’s poor packing; more sweatshirts than his uncle could ever wear through. Eddie knows he’ll try.

There’s some other stuff. CD’s and a nice edition of War of the World’s. Whatever he could stuff in his backpack.

“Are you going home for Christmas?” you’d asked him.

He sat on the bottom step of a huge staircase and you the one above him. People walked around you without notice. Two rocks in a stream bed.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe? You aren’t sure?”

He’d got stuck looking at your cheek, the soft curve of it and the highest point, where light like a small star had kissed you and turned his stomach, that’s how sick with envy he was.

“I get it,” you’d said, “things at home aren’t always easy.”

“Not that. My Uncle Wayne is my hero.”

“And you still don’t wanna go home?” you’d asked gently.

“It’s not about what I want.” He remembers this part in detail. He’d stopped looking at you, laying back against the stairs, each step digging into his back. The ceiling had been far away.

You’d inched into his frame of view, looking down at him with an expression unreadable to his mixed up head. You weren't quite smiling. He still isn’t sure what it meant.

“It is. That’s the whole point,” you’d said.

Eddie’s all memory this morning. The ones with Wayne had felt less memory and more story, because memory is unfaithful, and over time we start to break down on the details, putting want in place of fact. But your face hovering above his as the soft strands of your hair ghost against his jaw, all your glitters and the shiny pink sheen on your lips, that’s closer. He remembers how you smelled, and how your tongue peeked out to wet your lips uselessly between words.

Jet lag and the general feeling of you keeps him lethargic, but he cleans the house (and he’s always said house, even if some people don’t agree, it houses him, fuck you Jenny P from eighth grade grade) and makes dinner ready for Wayne when he gets home. He puts the radio on and tunes into Roller FM. When one of Godless’ songs comes on, he’s not surprised. He listens with his head lolled against the kitchen wall, eyes closed, and tries not to think about your fingers choking the neck of your bass guitar.

—

Indy Rock Centre, Indianapolis, January 1991

Whoever arranged the tour is a sadist. You can’t believe that a team of professionals sat around a long glossy table with their coffee cups and finger foods and thought, yeah, that will work. You feel like you’re being fucking yo-yo’d between states.

When you’d joined godless as a stand in for Millyanna, your dates had been plentiful but never as disorganised. Nothing compares to this shit. You wonder if going crazy is a sign of making it big, or if maybe you’re not cut out for all of this after all.

Jan 22, Kalamazoo, Missouri. Jan 23, Toledo, Ohio. Jan 25, Los Angeles, California. Jan 26, Philadelphia; Jan 28, Indiana, Jan 29, Wisconsin. February? Back in Missouri, back in Ohio, a couple more state dates and then bam — Canada. Don’t worry though, after a week in Canada, you’ll never guess where you’re playing.

Fucking Florida.

At least you aren’t alone in your torture. For starters, there’s Morgan, your singer, and Ananya, your drummer, who will also endure and suffer. Then there’s the roadies, the techies and the groupies. The opening acts. The managers, the assistants, the personal assistants, the boyfriends and girlfriends and wives and mistresses.

And what’s more, you're one of the hundreds of bands touring in North America this year. Maybe thousands. You certainly aren’t the first musician to have to suck it up and tough it out.

Still, you like to complain.

It’s your right, for dealing with Morgan. And also— you aren’t getting paid for the tour until after the tour is over, so really complaining is the wealth of the soul. You do get a weekly allowance, which is awesome and not something you were getting beforehand, working instead on an invoice. You’d play a show, you’d get paid for the show. This time you’re getting a flat rate at the end of the tour that’s been contractually agreed upon. It’s more money than you’ll ever know what to do with. One of the more shameful ways you waste time in your little bus bunk is trying to figure out where to put it.

I want a house, you think. A mortgage on a small, pretty house where the weather isn't too hot or too cold. And a puppy. Probably. Maybe a fish tank. I want a bed that spans from one wall to another and…

You wince. For a moment, you’d seen something stupid, a pale face hidden in the pillow across the way.

Two puppies, you think forcefully.

You’ve played four shows already this week. You have one tonight in Indy Rock Centre, and another tomorrow in Wisconsin. You got to stay in the warm, non-vibrating luxury of a hotel room last night, but tonight you have to play the show and get straight back on the bus.

“You’re gonna glare holes in her. What did she do?”

You stop your mindless staring and come back down to earth. Ananya’s smiling at you, thick eyebrows lifted in wait for your answering gossip. You’d been staring at Morgan where she’s sitting across the room in a plush armchair, cucumbers over her eyes and swarmed by makeup artists and hairstylists with a pedicurist at her feet.

Ananya does all her make up herself. You want to ask her to do yours, but you worry her messy sweetness won’t suit you. She overlines her already big lips with a sticky red-pink, giving her an effect of having just been kissed (a lot), and rings brown eyes with a slick black kohl.

“She hasn’t done anything. Yet. Today.”

“She has been a monster, hasn’t she?” she asks, sinking down into the couch with a sigh. She flicks her hair over her shoulder. Her curls are so healthy they bounce.

You hum your agreement and slide down with her. Touring again, Ananya has remembered how much it sucks to be alone without allies. Morgan gets especially volatile from the stress and close quarters. She’s nicer when you’re alone.

She’ll still ditch you at a moment's notice, but you get it. It’s like high school.

You miss Dornie.

It’s cruel to make a friend and suddenly lose them. You can’t help thinking he won’t want to be your friend again the next time you see him. It had been so nice… so peaceful, to know there was someone in your corner. Dornie doesn’t care how famous you are or how much money you’re making. He just wanted to make sure you got home safe and talk about old movies.

“I’m gonna go find something to drink,” you say.

Ananya nods. “Bring me back a coke?”

“Yeah.”

Morgan stops you on your way out with a foot in front of your legs. “Hey, killer, I gave one of your passes to a fan earlier. Is that cool?”

“Morgan, when have you ever cared about my opinion?”

“Ooh, meow,” she croons, taking a cucumber from her eye to squint at you. “What’s the matter, baby? I figured you weren’t using them.”

You smile at her. You can’t help yourself. She stopped hurting your feelings a long time ago. “You want a drink from the machine?”

“Sparkling water, serf.”

If you smudge her nail polish on the way past it isn’t your fault. It isn’t cool with you that she’s given away one of your passes, even though you ask your general manager Angel to give them out at the beginning of the show every night. It’s presumptuous! Normal people don’t do stuff like that without asking.

Serf…

Your nose wrinkles. The dressing room door closes at your back and you take a moment to recall where you’d seen the bank of vending machines in the maze of white hallways. Indy Rock Centre is one of the biggest venues in Indianapolis, and you’ve been here before countless times on the other side to see Black Sabbath, Metallica, The Stacey’s, Doorway to Cooperstown. It’s where all the biggest and best get to play. You wish they’d given you a map.

You can still walk around without getting recognised. You’re not a superstar, just a guitarist. You smile at people who smile at you and avoid the rest, dodging past black polo shorts wheeling equipment and busybody higher ups barking orders. Someone stands in a corner talking on a brick of a handheld phone. You stare at him for a bit. You’ll never get used to it, phones without wires. Next there’ll be TVs without satellites and electric guitars without amps.

The vending machine shines like a red beacon at the end of the hallway. You hurry to it, feeding the machine your crumpled per diem one dollar at a time. You get a coke for Ananya, sparkling water for Morgan. When it gets to your own drink, the machine starts to revolt. It spits your dollar out unsympathetically. You pull it from the mouth and flatten it against your thigh.

It doesn’t work again. You nibble your bottom lip. Dollar pulled taut between your two hands, you lift your knee and rub it against your stockings.

“Fucking fuck,” you whisper, watching in mild horror as the machine accepts and then rejects your dollar for a third time.

You tuck it back into your purse, a pretty leather thing that clasps shut and fits perfectly in the small pocket of your jacket. It’s your luck, but whatever. They’ll probably bring a couple of bottles of water to the dressing room in a bit. Maybe even a cocktail bar.

“Hey.”

Your internal monologue chokes. You question your senses for the split second it takes you to meet his eyes — baby browns, soft and flush with gorgeously long lashes. If there’s one thing about Eddie Munson, it’s that he has very sweet eyes. Not the kind you can replicate in daydreams.

He’s dressed like a bitch. You’re so sick of him. He has his jacket tied around his waist and his shirt has no sleeves, the alarmingly shapely stretch of his arms on full display. Black ink climbs the hills and ridges of his stark veins, his herd of bats jumping as he offers you a dollar.

You take it. You aren’t sure what to say, so you bask in the almost-silence, every nerve aflame as you feed the vending machine and click the button for your drink. Equipment cages rattle. Radios chirp. Your drink thinks from behind the red Coca Cola panel down into the bottom of the machine for collection.

“What’re you doing here?” you ask finally, squatting to grab your drink.

You stand, train your eyes on the floor, shove your drink under your arm, and crack open your purse to give him your defective dollar in exchange. He takes it without fanfare.

“Are you busy?” he asks.

Regrettably, no. The majority of soundcheck is done, and the show doesn’t start for hours. He gestures to the left and you follow, stupidly, with no idea where he’s leading you to and not a clue what he wants, leaving Morgan and Ananya’s drinks for whoever finds them. Eddie’s jeans aren’t as loose on his hips as they were the last time you saw him. His distracting arms are bigger, biceps like a taunt as he holds a door open for you. You take a breath as you pass him, but he doesn’t smell like anything. No sweat or cologne, no cigarette smoke.

“Is it mean if I say you look good with clean hair?” you ask, squinting in the sudden brightness.

He’s led you outside to the back of the venue. Your tour bus stands imposing at the end of the lot, surrounded by Godless branded vans and fancy cars. A truck beeps as it loads into the receiving area backward.

“Probably.”

“You do, though. Look good.”

“So people tell me.”

Fuck, you think. Fuck it. If he’s gonna be weird about it then you’re pulling the olive branch back in and snapping it in half.

The sky is white as snow. It hurts to look at, the sun like a steaming egg yolk covered in its own whites, thick clouds shielding her warmth. You pull the sides of your jacket together and button up, uninterested in catching a cold when the next six months of your life are planned down to the hour. Eddie puts his jacket on and zips it tight.

“Wanna go for a walk?” he asks.

“Why?”

He pushes his hands into his pockets. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he felt self conscious. “Why not?” he asks.

You nod. You and Eddie aren’t friends, but you aren’t not friends, either. You’re being cold because you’re seized with embarrassment, not because he deserves it. You have memories of his hand on your cheek, and a cherry stem between his teeth, and you don’t know what you said exactly but you know it hadn’t been amicable small talk. You hate him for knowing stuff about you that you’d wanted to keep secret, and you hate yourself more for telling him in the first place.

“I came home for Christmas. I’m back in Los Angeles tomorrow night.”

“That’s convenient,” you say.

“Just had to see you before I went,” he agrees. Deadpan humour is terrifying on him.

He ducks under a low tree branch and holds it away from your face. Together, you begin to walk down the street and into the city, over patched sidewalks and past brand new stores. The mom and pop shops of your childhood are mostly gone.

Conversations between you two have this odd oscillation between over familiarity and stilted nothings. You like over familiarity better, when you’re both prone to misunderstandings. You’d take snipping at one another over this strange quiet.

“Is it nice? Being home?” he asks finally.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’ve been here for what, a month now? I just got here, and it wasn’t to see the ‘rents.”

Eddie lifts his chin to the sky a touch. Molasses of sunlight seep through the clouds now, racing to caress his waved hair and high cheekbones. “It’s been awesome,” he says, his eyes closed. His voice like tree bark, uneven but tough. “Makes me wonder what I liked about L.A. so much.”

“All the free stuff,” you offer. “And free girls.”

“The girls aren’t free,” he protests.

“You aren’t getting free girls?” you ask.

“Are you?”

“Would that bother you?”

Close-lipped, his tongue pokes the skin under his bottom lip.

“You think stuff like that bothers me?” he asks.

“It bothers some people.”

Eddie isn’t meeting your eyes consistently, but you don’t think he’s lying when he says, “No, it wouldn’t bother me. But my Uncle Wayne would fucking kill me if he heard me agree that the women are free.”

“How progressive.”

He visually bites back a laugh. He looks up from his shoes and sees you smiling and it breaks him, his laugh sputtering out in bits and pieces. “Shit, I’m just trying to be an okay person.”

You concede, “Fine, the girls aren’t free. They’re just very happy to sleep with you for very little reward.”

“Some might say the reward was, you know, pleasure–”

“Ew–”

“Don’t be childish. What did you want me to say? The reward is a long night of rough and tumble fucking–”

“I liked pleasure better,” you interject. You dance around a huge crack in the sidewalk and pause as you and Eddie reach a crossing. “All night? Really?”

“Want me to prove it?”

“I don’t think you could, Munson.”

“I could…” He rests his hand between your shoulder blades. “But I don’t think we’re there yet.”

He encourages you to cross the street, weaving and winding between parked cars, moving cyclists, and a small family bulldozing passers-bys with a twin stroller. When you’ve crossed to the other side uninjured, his hand falls away. The heat of his palm lingers.

“Good observation.”

“You’re sarcastic today. Or is being on the road making you cranky?”

“Being on the road is definitely making me cranky. It fucking sucks, I forgot how badly it sucks, and I don’t get paid day to day like I used to.”

“Oh, you’re getting a flat rate now? Go you, superstar.” Your walk is more of a crawl, the two of you turned to the left side of the street where children shriek and giggle in the outdoor seating of a restaurant. Eddie stops. “How’s the allowance?”

“You get one of those too?”

Eddie bumps his elbow into yours. “We’re kids. They know it. It’s pretty shitty considering how much money they make off of us in the end, but that’s an asshole thing to say, right? We’re lucky.”

You roll your shoulders. He’s more than right. Coming from nothing, a small town, with no college degree and no rich parents to float you, Eddie’s right. You might have talent and you might work hard but so do a lot of other people, and you’re here, and they’re working for minimum wage back home still hoping.

You wish every kid like you could get to where you are, but they won’t. You’re more than lucky. You should buy a scratcher.

“We’re fucking lucky,” Eddie says slowly. “And it’s awful anyways.” He grins. “Come to dinner with me?”

You blink. “What?”

“Dinner? I’ve been there before,” —he points to the restaurant you’d stopped across from— “and it’s nice.”

You’re insane and you agree. It’s not too fancy to feel like you’re on a date from the outside, and once you’re indoors you feel relaxed. With a glass of cider in your hands you feel positively giddy.

Eddie slouches back into a velvet booth seat that might’ve once been red. He keeps the jacket on and you’re grateful for it, lest you see his stupid nice arms and turn ditzy. His nose twitches as looks out over the restaurant floor toward the kitchen visible through a long window. It’s warm but not stuffy in here, the air fragrant with browning butter and minced garlic.

The menus are sticky. You pretend to pour over one, not knowing what to say to break the silence.

“I know I said you were being sarcastic,” Eddie says, “but I think I meant quiet. Even when you sound annoyed, I can barely hear you.”

“That’s dramatic,” you murmur, proving his point.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Well, in what way?”

“What way feels wrong to you?” he asks.

Trapped. You sip your cold cider. He raps his knuckles against the table. “Come on, what have you got to lose? What did you say to me before?” His eyes soften. “Nobody would believe me if I told them.”

You tap your glass with your thumbnail.

“I’m okay,” you say honestly. “Most of the time, I feel fine. Or, I forget what’s wrong.”

Eddie flicks his own glass. “Is this about feeling like nothing?”

“I don’t know why I told you that.”

“I have one of those faces.”

“And you were feeding me booze.”

“Don’t say that. You make it sound so shitty.”

“It wasn’t shitty,” you say. “Free drinks, right? What’s shitty about letting a pretty guy pay for you?”

“You think I’m pretty?” he asks.

You kick him under the table. You don’t know what comes over you, shy at your own honesty and irritated with his ridiculousness. I let you kiss me, you want to say. I’d let you do worse. Of course I think you’re pretty. You aren’t cruel — it’s more of a shove with the toe of your shoe. Eddie laughs through a gasp and kicks you back, heel of his converse flat to your calf.

“You fucking–”

“Sweetheart?” he finishes.

“No, fuck you. You string me around with your hot and cold act and now you’re coming to my shows taking me to dinner,” —your voice stiffens, thickens, as you glare at him from across the table— “asking me how I’m doing? And I’m the one who has to explain themselves? You tell me, Munson. Do I think that you’re pretty?”

Eddie’s sort of frozen, like a laugh got stuck in his throat and he really is surprised by your sudden anger. You might feel surprised yourself if you had the wherewithal. As it stands, your irritation and your want for an answer is too much.

He hits the toe of his shoe into yours. “Hey,” he says. “Sorry. I’m not… trying to string you around.”

He doesn’t say anything else. You deflate, ashamed of your sudden outburst. Tired of all the games.

“I think you’re pretty,” he says.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“It’s what I’ve been trying to say.”

The food arrives and saves him. You want him to explain —you want him to expand, needily, on what he means and how much he means it— and he clearly doesn’t. He grabs his fork and starts shovelling pasta into his mouth like it’ll magically turn the conversation to something more palatable for him.

“I’d like to change my answer,” you say.

Eddie swallows harshly. “Can’t. All compliments have been locked in. Maybe at our next cat fight.”

—

Eddie’s heart isn’t pounding like he worried it might when he asked you to follow him into the bathroom. He pictured sweaty, shaking palms, his hands hesitant, a reminiscent picture of a past self who didn’t know how to make girls make noise. He thought the next time he was alone with you, it would be the tragic scene from the movies where the boy bears his heart and the girl can’t accept it. He’s not expecting you to understand. It’s getting to the point where the mean shit he said to you isn’t made up of words anymore but the image of you in the Prover Theatre with your sparkling dress and your dull eyes. He hates that he made you feel that way, and he should say sorry. He feels fucking sorry.

“Don’t cut me,” you say, quiet so you won’t be caught together.

“I won’t.”

“When was the last time you did this?”

“It’s like riding a bike,” he insists. “I haven’t forgotten.”

You simper. Propped up on the sink’s counter, your skirt hiking up your thighs (imagine him covering his face with his hands, rocking his head from side to side, you’re wearing garters) and your jacket falling into the basin. You’ve turned one arm toward him trustingly, but apprehension plays clear as day over your mouth. He wants to remark that your mouth is pretty, but it’s not the right word. Perfect feels closer, but again, it’s not what he wants. He has a fascination with how you talk and when you don’t, how your lips have a mind of their own sometimes, nibbled and popped and pouting.

“It’s easier if you take your shirt off.”

“How many girls believed that one?” you ask happily. He’s ecstatic. Dinner perked you up and now you’re all smiles and warm laughs. He doesn’t know why you’d been angry with him (he does) because you started it (not really), but you got something off your chest at least.

“None,” he says. “I’m serious that it’s easier. But you really don’t have to take it off for me to make it look good.”

Eddie wields his small pen knife toward your arm.

“I like my sleeves,” you say as he takes the hem of one such sleeve into his free hand.

“Don’t be a baby.” He pulls it taut from your skin. You’re both smiling. Carbs are good like that.

“I have fat arms,” you try.

He’s out of his mind. Eddie leans down and kisses the top of your arm quickly. “Shut up,” he says.

He doesn’t have time to think about what he’s done. It’ll torture him tonight when all he has for distraction are hotel sheets, and then tomorrow on the red eye back to L.A. He honestly doesn’t wanna look at you because if your nose is even slightly wrinkled he’ll have to turn to the gross toilet in the corner and chuck up, but he also doesn't want to freak you out. He looks up at you from under his lashes.

You look flustered.

Not disgusted.

“I’m doing it,” he warns.

“Yeah,” you say, nearly normal. “Fine. Make me look cool.”

“You admit that I look cool.”

“No.”

Eddie digs the tip of his pen knife into your sleeve and starts pulling. The fabric tears away in a jagged-lined but even circle around your arm, broadening a tantalising stretch. His stomach hurts a bit. To reach your second arm, the one furthest from him, he has to take up station between your spread legs. Or maybe he doesn’t have to, but he does, your thighs like two warm spots either side of him as he leans in close.

“And this is what’s gonna make them all like me, right? This is the cement of my street cred?”

“Your street cred? No. And I don’t think anything you do could make them like you.” You lean back at his words. He pulls you back in, fingers braceleting your arm as he fakes taking a measurement. “If they don’t like you already, they won’t. Not your fault, not your problem. Who says you even like them?”

“I do, though. That’s my problem. I even like Little Miss Fleetwood,” you grumble.

He raises his eyebrows to show he’s listening, stabbing at your sleeve and tearing slow. “She still tripping you up?”

“No. I’m just trying to make you laugh.”

He laughs under his breath. “Mission accomplished, baby,” he murmurs.

Both sleeves sliced, Eddie steps away from you, ignoring the heat in his stomach to take you in. People who don’t know where they stand shouldn’t be so close to one another, he decides, ‘cause wishful thinking has him marking your hands as wanting. Your fingers move slowly as if through water, tip of your index on the left hand stroking down the back of your right marriage. Eddie pins salaciousness on everybody he meets —coke is falling out of fashion fast but sex is always in— but he can’t get a faithful read on you now. He wants you to want to be kissed. Doesn’t trust that you do.

“You look edgy.”

“In a good way or a bad way?” you ask.

“An awful way.”

You go quiet, your hands go still. You raise your head until it’s too much, and he realises he’s been moving back in. He drops the penknife in the sink on top of your jacket, putting his hand on your freshly bared arm and bunching the sleeve up as much as he can without it pulling at you. He’s greedy and he wants to palm at your skin like an asshole, that’s not your problem.

“That bad?” you ask.

He angles his face over yours. He needs two inches maybe three, and you’d be kissing. His hand falls down your arm to your elbow, clasping weakly over your skin.

“No,” he says. He can barely hear himself.

Greedy. His second hand comes up to your face, waiting, and when you lift your jaw just so he slots his hand under it and holds you.

“What are we doing?” you whisper.

What are ‘we’ doing?

“Nothing you don’t want to do.” He widens the gap between you.

“I know– I know that.” Your arm ventured forward, fingers twisting around the hem of his shirt. You tug it gently, pulling him forward again. “I just don’t understand it. You. I don’t get what’s happening, Eddie.”

“Well… I was going to kiss you.” Eddie fights to sound the way he feels, out of his element but so earnest his chest aches. “I really, really… want to kiss you.”

It doesn’t feel like admitting defeat, as he’d initially thought it might. Neither does it feel confessional. You can’t confess to a secret already known.

He kisses you just once. A light brush of his lips against yours. Anymore than that and he knows he’ll start making promises like someone who has room for them. His eyes scrunch closed hard and he struggles not to squeeze your poor cheek as the pressure of your lips builds, as they part, as he pulls back and you chase him. He can’t kiss your mouth anymore than that, but your hands are grabbing at him, pleading and twitching and cold against the searing skin of his abdomen as they search underneath his shirt. Eddie feels the soft curve of your hip under his hand, knowing he can’t fuck you here, and undecided on whether that’ll be his ruin or his saviour.

You shudder as he kisses down. His hands are hungry but his mouth is sweet, gentle like you deserve as he noses down the column of your throat.

“I don’t get you,” you say, your fingertips sewn into his hair, scratching over his scalp lightly. Your breath catches as he parts his lips. His teeth scratch over the damp crescents of previous kisses.

He loses himself in the ticklish feeling of your hand and the heat of your skin. “Hm?” he hums.

“I understood you better when I thought you didn’t like me.”

He kisses up to the soft crook of your jaw before edging you away, just enough to see the sad set of your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, utters, like you’re trading secrets. His thumb rubs your cheek, a rough touch. He’s never been much good at aligning his words with actions; his heart and his hands.

He doesn’t know what to do to fix your sad frown. He kisses you again in case that’s what you wanted but couldn’t say, and it works for a handful of blessed, wretched seconds. You kiss back hard. Eddie has to break it to take a breath.

You rest your forehead against his. It slides slowly to his nose, and eventually you’ve bowed your head, your hands slipping down to his elbows.

“I feel sick all the time,” you say. Your hands flex against his skin. “The only time I feel alright is when I’m playing– when I’m making something.” You press your head to his chest. “Or when I’m with you.”

Eddie thinks of all the shitty decisions he’s made. His restlessness, his bad attitude. His propensity to assume the worst. How he’d taken your thumb rubbing a smudge off of his cheek in the Prover Theatre as a jab, rather than a helping hand.

He wraps his arms around you.

Your head fits under his rather well.

“I know what you mean,” he says. And out of everything he’s told you today, that’s the hardest to say aloud.

Eddie hugs you in the dim light of that dingy bathroom knowing he’s running on borrowed time. All too soon, you’re pulling apart and he’s helping you off of the counter unnecessarily. You don’t hold hands on the way back to Wings Stadium. He thought you might. You’re quiet. He tries to cheer you up, feeling more and more like he’s done something wrong the closer you get to the venue.

He doesn’t have anything to offer. You’re both on tour now. He doesn’t have a clue when he’ll see you next, or what he’ll say when he does.

Miraculously, he gets you back to your dressing room. He gives your cheek a quick squeeze.

“Play well tonight,” he says.

“I always play well.”

You do. He watches you from the VIP section a couple of hours later, impressed. Mildly nauseous. His thumb worries the edge of the pass until it splits in his hand, paper coming apart from cardboard. Your singer might be a handful, but she knows when to be discreet. He slinks out before your set finishes through a side entrance, and his head races with your image. If it weren’t for your cut sleeves and the flank of your upper arm glowing under the stage lights, he’d put his kisses down to surreal delusion.

Eddie doesn’t notice the lone photographer hiding in the eaves.

The photographer notices him.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

!!! thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed! if you did, please consider reblogging, it helps so much! Let me know what you thought, what bits you liked and what you want to see next

can you feel another spat coming along 0.0 I honestly had so much fun writing this one especially the scene with Wayne and then the end scene in the bathroom <3 it’s always crazy to see hours and hours condensed into chapters like this but idc I’m having the time of my life and hope u guys r too! the word count is now at a solid 26k I believe though so it does feel rewarding in that way

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #stranger things fic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson angst

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genshin-squabbles-and-wobbles · 1 year

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Hurtful to You Mid-Argument || Part 2

Request: greetings. may i requst the GEnshin bois saying something hurtful to you mid argument, gotta adds some angsttt, thank you :) Cyno, scaramouche, tighnari, and ayato Note: OH MY GOD THIS POST BLEW UP OVERNIGHT. Thank you guys for the wonderful support, it is much appreciated that I can receive so much love for my writing. Thank you so much. I feel so connected and loved by this community, please, let's all simp and cry together. Requested Tags: @aquamarine001 and @arrowximpack Content: You got into an argument with your lover until they said something hurtful to you, thus leading you to leave mid argument. This is a continuation, which will have a mix of fluff and angst, because everyone's heart needs a break. Part 1: Here

Cyno: ╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗╚══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╝╔══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══╗

You cried for a copious amount of time, so much that your eyes were swollen and red. Currently, you are staring up at the ceiling with a numbed mind. Sometimes you go back to crying and sometimes you just...stare. Everything seems so slow right now. Your pillow was wet from the splatters of tears.

However, the most notable thing was a broke hourglass on the ground. This was a gift from Cyno from one of his journeys. However, in a fit a rage, you slapped it off your nightstand, wanting this gift to get out of your sight as soon as possible.

You feel miserable. Now, for Cyno, you thought he left and just went off on his own, but in fact that was untrue. Cyno was still outside of your door, it was just you never saw him fully left. Cyno had his head and both hands pressed against your door, he stood there the whole time listening to you cry. He regretted his words greatly. He kept thinking to himself if he was just taking his anger out on you, or if your friend was truly a suspect on his list. However, none of that matters. Cyno felt he was on thin ice with you, and that you were going to break up with him. He pulled out the intelligent drug out of his possession and is tempted to drink it so just drown his sorrows. However, that was too reckless, even for him. He sighed and put the drug away. He decided, maybe we would try and apologize, what is there the more to lose at this point? He gently re-entered your home, and took a deep breathe, and slowly entered your room. "Hey.." he gently called out to you.

You jumped at his gentle voice, almost giving in to it. You turned your head to him, and gave him a side glared at him. Your back was faced to him mostly but you turned around slowly. "What do you want? Here to accuse me of murder?" "Don't say that, darling." He looked to the side and looked back at you. "Listen sweety, I am very sorry for what I said, I shouldn't have alluded that type of serious accusation towards you. I should be the first person to know you best out of anyon-" He felt a soft smack on his face.

You threw your pillow at him. "I don't care! Get out! I hate you! I always support you and you leave me for days and weeks and then come back to insult me to my face!" You began to throw another pillow at him. Cyno dodges it and walks up closer to you. "I-I'm sorry, I know what I said was seriou-"

You got up and pushed him. "Just leave! I don't ever want to see you again!" Suddenly, you were pinned down against the bed, confused you looked and saw Cyno on top of you. His torso was in between your legs, along with his hair falling down and tickling your skin.

He brings his face closer to yours and looked you into your eyes. "Do you really mean that?" He asked with a serious expression. Cyno kept a serious face but deep down, he was trying to keep back the tears welling up in his eyes. He was better at hiding it then it seems though.

You sniff and looked to the side. Cyno gently placed his forehead against yours, and started to whisper to you. "Do you truly mean that? If you want me to go, I will go and never come back, if you so wish desire."

Immediately, you gave him a look of distress, as the sound of that was so horrible and bitter to you. That look you gave him is all the answer he needs. "I see, so you don't mean it." He whispered. "Listen, I didn't mean what I said, okay? It was wrong of me to say something so morbid to you, especially how far I go to deal with these things." You looked away. He lets go of your hand and turned your face to him. "Look at me. I mean it when I say this. I was just stressed because I just haven't found any clues of this case. After I finish this case, I promised to take a break and spend time with you. I'll even meet this friend of yours. Okay?" He said gently, and attempted to kiss your irritated red eyes, which you let him. You nodded, despite you not vocalizing forgiveness, you calmed down enough to respond to him more calmly. He lets go of your hands and wrapped his arms around you, while you are still pinned down in bed. "Come, let me take care of you today...and fix this hourglass." Scaramouche: ╔═ ❀•°❀°•❀ ═╗╚═ ❀•°❀°•❀ ═╝╔═ ❀•°❀°•❀ ═╗ You were going out for a walk, this was in the afternoon where the sky was orange and pink. You were still crying, walking and stumbling. You looked up and saw a clift, a nice spot to take a breather. You went to the clift and prompted to sit down until you felt a tight grab on your arm from behind you.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" A distressed Scaramouche yelled while yanking your arm along with you, away from the clift. "Are you seriously going to jump off a cliff because of all that??" "W-What? N-NO! I just wanted to sit and calm dow-" Whatever you said didn't matter anyways. He pulled you into a hug and hugged you very tightly. You felt him out of breath and felt his hand gently on the back of your head. You placed your hands on his chest and tried to push him away as hard as you can, but he refuse to budge.

"Scaramouche, get off of me." He refused and he showed that by pushing you against a nearby tree. Your back was to a thick tree, and now you can feel his body against you a bit more. He grabbed your hands and kissed you passionately, breathing heavily, using his body to keep you pushed against the tree. "S-Scara?" You pulled away from his sudden kiss, confused. Surprisingly, you saw a sad and regretful expression on his face. "I'm sorry, okay?" He said going back to hugging you, pressing his body against yours. Feeling your warmth. "I didn't.....I didn't meant be rude to you." He gently pulled away and had his hands, cupping your cheeks, as he is looking straight down at you with a gentle, yet troubled expression. You felt his breathe on your cheek. "I missed you...so much. The reason why I was gone was because I got lost somewhere, and I was too embarrassed to admit. I want you to see me as a strong man, a reliable man, someone who won't slip up over stupid things like this. I got lost, and I missed you, so much. All I could think of was hugging you. I don't want you to have to worry about me." He sighed. You blushed gently. "Where did you learn to communicate your feelings like this to me? You usually want me to figure it out by myself." Scaramouche sighed with embarrassment, he had a small pink hue on his cheeks. "I...I met a couple, they were very...touchy with each other, so I ended up asking them questions and how relationships are supposed to be like. Just know that I missed you, seeing that couple made me think of things I want to do with you. So....please don't leave me like that, okay?"

Tighnari:╔══════╗╚══════╝╔══════╗╔══════╗╚════╝

You were walking, zipping up your coat down Sumeru forest. You walked along the river, calming down to the night time noises homed to the peaceful forest. You continued, to walk and sat in between a large bark roots of a tree. It was a little spot to watch the water and poke at the flowers nearby. At this point, if monsters come and attack you, you'd let them. You don't care anymore. Why bother? So much for love. You sighed. Slowly a shadow emerged emitted from the moon light. You noticed the shadow at two large ears that are twitching. It was Tighnari, he slowly walked and looked down on you. In his hand was the bag you knitted him. "I finally found you." He said quietly. "If you didn't...uhm..if you didn't make that delicious dinner for me, I wouldn't have found you since you smelled like dinner.." You didn't respond. Tighnari understands your silence. He slowly walked behind you and sat down, and wrapped his arms around you, and gently pulled you in between his legs. "Tigh-"

"You can be mad at me all you like, I won't let you go, but I will say this. I truly do apologize for treating you like that. It was wrong of me to take my anger out on you like that. I should have known better that you only do things to make me happy." "..." "you can be mad at me all you like, but I am not moving, and I won't be letting you go until you come home with me. " He pulled you more closer to him, as you feel his chest on your back and his breath by your neck. You feel his tail wrapped around you, keeping you warm from the night cold. You feel his legs guarding yours. He was putting you in a box practically. He began to rub your stomach a bit. "You were waiting for me to eat, weren't you?" You sigh.

"I thought so." Tighnari pulled out a few slices of veggie pizza in a toppleware from the knitted bag you made him and placed it on your lap. "Eat." "....And this bag you made me...is very useful, thank you. I will take it with me on my future adventures." He whispered to you as you feel his ears resting on top of your head. Sooner or later, you ate, and ending up falling asleep on him. He picked you up and carried you home, as he placed you in bed and tucked you in. He climbed in bed with you and cuddled you from behind. He buried his nose into your neck, trying to fall asleep to your scent. Ayato: ┌── •✧• ──┐└── •✧• ──┘┌── •✧• ──┐

Ayato was knocking at your door. Despite his work being due at the end of tomorrow, he abandoned it momentarily to make sure things are good with you. However, no matter how much he knocked, no response. It has been days ever since, however today, he was worried and he decided to be bold and let himself in. "Darling, please. Let's talk." He spoke softly, as he walked in. However once he walked in, he saw you packing your clothes, getting ready to leave. Panic ran up his spine and he immediately rushed up to you. "Hey, Hey, hey, what's going on here, beloved?" You ignored him and continued to pack your clothes. He grabbed both of yours hands to stop you. Your hands fits perfectly in his palms. "Darling, please let's talk about this." He had a devastated expression on his face. "No, I'm done." You said and yanked your hands out of his. You closed your luggage and got up. "Huh?! Darling?" He became worried as his voice raised in panic. "I'm breaking up with you and I am leaving you. I don't see this working out. Don't come and find me, and I never want to see you again." You rushed out, racing towards the exit. Ayato yelling for your name behind you. Ayato was walking behind you, yelling your name, as you ignored him and continued. He was catching up to you quickly due to his long legs and tall stature. Ayato then finally caught up to you, and luckily with this office nearby, he yanked you in along with your luggage. "HUH?" You were confused on why it was suddenly dim and you luggage had fallen. Ayato was hugging your from behind, tightly. You feel his whole body on your back. "P-Please...don't do this to me....I don't want to lose you." "Let go of me." You said sternly attempting to pick up your luggage. Ayato kicked your luggage far from you, and hugged you tighter. Ayato's head was looking down at your shoulder, as you felt something plop on your shoulders and neck. Ayato was crying, and silently begging you to not leave him. Like a broken down child. "Please...you are all I have left." Ayato buried his head into your shoulder and slowly fell to his knees, bringing you down with him onto your knees as well. You sighed. "Ayato..." "Don't say my name, say what you have always called me." Ayato begged quietly. You sighed and complied. ".....My darling."

Hearing this calmed him down a little bit as he rested his head on your back. He was still very tightly knitted to you, but he started to calm down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to ignore you for so long. The type of work they are giving me here is quite rigorous. These documents are from an important events, so I can't ignore them." He said slowly letting go of you. You turned around to see a very stressed and distressed Ayato, with tears in his eyes and tears streaming down his face. You adjusted yourself, however, that small adjustment made Ayato grab your hands and yanked you onto his lap, as he buried his face in your neck. "I won't let you leave me!" He said thinking you were attempting to leave him again. "I-I was just adjust myself, not leaving." "Y-You're not leaving anymore?" He looked at you with devastating eyes. "No, darling. I'm...I'm sorry for trying to break up with you, I was so upset that you wouldn't give me the time of day and then when you do, you yell at me, I was just frustrated." Ayato hugged you on his lap, and had his hand on the back of your head, as if he almost dropped a glass diamond. He kept you on his lap, resting there for an hour until he fully calmed down and regain his posture. He sighed and spoke. "I'm sorry you had to see me like that, as you can see, you mean quite a lot to me, however, I do see the mistake on my part and how that can push you away from me. I have a compromise, why don't you come into my office and...rest yourself on my lap, I'll hold you as I work. Maybe you can stay long enough to fall asleep on me...." He murmured still affected by the events, but will recover eventually.

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back2bluesidex · 14 days

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Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 6 (18+)

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok.

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, smut

Warnings: SMUT AHEAD!! Explicit sex, hair pulling, tit slapping, nipple play, body worshipping, doggy style, protected sex, Hoseok is just so whipped for her, confessions, mina makes an appearance, multiple orgasms, argument, drama!!! NSFW!!!

Word count: 4.1k+

Taglist requests are closed.

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: This chapter was so fun to write. I hope it's fun to read for you too. Please let me know what you think of it.

Main Masterlist

Chapters:-

Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

It’s been long since you had any physical action.

Jungkook was far too unattached for the last couple of months of your relationship that he couldn't offer more than a few kisses and touches.

And then when he left, you were far too drained to give yourself a moment of release.

So, this can be a reason why you currently feel that you are being touched for the first time ever. This can be a reason why your skin is ablaze, your heart is pounding so hard that you can hear it in your ears and your panties getting soaked at the speed of light.

Hoseok groans in your mouth when you manage to slide your tongue inside of his. He tastes like the red wine you two just had. But he feels like everything you have been missing in your life.

“Stay the night.” Hoseok whispers in your mouth, parting for a second. A string of saliva connecting both of you.

“Should I?” you reply breathlessly.

And then you are kissing him again. His hands hold you steadily by your hip, squeezing your ass occasionally.

“But first, let’s keep these away.” you murmur in his mouth and he groans in affirmation.

Parting from your lips again, Hoseok places a quick peck on your mouth and takes the wine glass from your hand. When he exits the balcony to keep the glasses on the dishwasher, you follow him.

Calling Hoseok only handsome would never be justified.

You stare at him thirstily as he puts the glasses inside the dishwasher. His forearm veins flexing with every movement he makes. The black turtleneck is tight around his well-built chest. His dark styled hair has come loose around his forehead so a few strands are covering his eyes.

You start blushing but not because you are horny. It’s more than that.

No matter how independent you are, you have always wished to have a small family. Some people, who you would always come back to. Someone of your very own.

And you have always pictured Jungkook with you in those moments.

But now, when you have a glimpse of what you could have in future (only if Hoseok feels the very same way), you feel greedy.

You want to wake up in the morning beside Hoseok, kiss him good morning, take Sua out of her bed, kiss her too, and at night you want to tuck her to her bed, kiss her good night and end your day in Hoseok’s arms.

You don’t know if it’s right for you to ask all these and you don’t even want to think of that. For now, you know you are in love with the man in front of you.

You know he is attracted to you too, and it probably doesn’t match the intensity you possess for him. But for now, you want to live in this feeling. It’s been long since you have felt anything akin to butterflies and you want to enjoy it all as long as it lasts.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” It's Hoseok who speaks. He takes a step towards you.

“Am I?” you mirror his actions.

“Yes. very much.” he takes a hold of your hand and places a kiss on top of it, “so much so that I want to make you mine… only mine.”

Hoseok intertwines his fingers with yours, making your heart go even wilder. You can’t remember the last time when you felt this loved, this cherished, this much adored.

His eyes stay on yours. You can’t find the least bit of mockery in those. His words are sincere, he is sincere and right now, you can read him like an open book.

Placing your other hand on his cheek, you whisper, “then.. What’s stopping you from doing so?”

His skin is smooth much like his words.

Hoseok halts his movements at your question. His eyes flood with emotions that are not quite positive. You know what he might be thinking. And you want to dismiss his thoughts as soon as possible.

“I- I don’t see why you would want someone like me? I am in my thirties, a single father on top of that. You can have hotter younger guys swooning over you, offering you the world and what not. And me? I can only offer you myself, my love and Sua as a bonus. That’s all.”

You smile at his admission. He probably thought his words would discourage you from stepping towards him. But in reality you fall for him even more.

Encircling your hands around his neck, you reply, “and what if that’s more than enough for me? What if that’s all I want? You, your love and Sua as a bonus? Will you make me yours then?”

“I have been alone for far too long, Y/N. and… and I might not let you go if we step into this. I might never let you slip away from me. Will you be okay with that?”

“I will love that, Hoseok. I.. I have come to like you a lot in the past few weeks. And would love to fall for you in the near future.” you connect your forehead with his.

“Too bad, because it took me only the first glance to fall head over heels for you.” as soon as his confession ends, his lips find yours.

This time the kiss is slow.

Hoseok takes his time to explore every corner of your mouth while caging you between himself and the kitchen counter.

You kiss him with utmost sincerity as well.

Hoseok bites down on your lower lip, making you release a low moan. His kisses shift to your jaw, then to the column of your throat, painting bruises all over your skin.

His hands find their way to your thigh. And within a moment he lifts you up and sits you on the counter.

Slotting himself perfectly in between your legs, Hoseok nips on your throat.

“Hoseok” you moan breathily.

Hoseok’s hands venture underneath your dress, discovering your bare thigh. Your breath hitches when his fingers reach closer to your leaking core.

Just when he is about to touch you there, the door lock chimes in.

Hoseok detaches his mouth from your skin. You can see all the color from his face start draining as he whips his head to look towards the main entrance.

“Hoseok” a high pitched voice comes out of the narrow passage that leads to the door. And at once you know who it can be.

Her stilettos clink against the marble floor as she invites herself inside.

You don’t make any effort to demount the kitchen counter or shoving Hoseok away from your body. You stay still, holding him by his arm and so does he.

“Hoseok, why didn’t you-” the woman comes into your sight wearing a tight bodycon dress that certainly emphasizes her curves a lot.

You gotta admit the fact that she is indeed pretty. And if you’re a tiny bit jealous then it’s a discussion for another day.

“Mina! What the hell? How do you know my passcode?” Hoseok screams at her. But she is too busy scanning the position that you and Hoseok are in.

“That’s not important now, Hoseok. Who is she?” she points her finger towards you.

“Why are you here?” the man asks calmly now.

“Because you won’t reply to my texts or receive my calls! And I suppose she is the reason why?”

“Mina. Let’s talk about it later. I need you to leave now, you can see I am busy.”

“Who is she, Hoseok?” Mina asks again, determined to know your identity.

Hoseok looks at you.

Maybe he is hesitant to name your relationship and it’s natural. You are definitely not only in a professional relationship with him anymore but you are nothing more than a person he just kissed.

So you decide to answer on behalf of him, “I am Su-”

“She is my girlfriend.” Hoseok cuts you off.

Damn! Did he just call you his girlfriend?

When you look up at him, he is already smiling at you, “she is my permanent.”

You two are too busy staring into each other’s eyes that you don’t see the third figure bolting out of the door and banging it way too loudly. Before you can register it and say something, Hoseok is picking up where he left off earlier.

His hands work faster this time, undoing the knot of your dress and pulling the cloth away from your body. Your dress falls limp on his feet.

Your hands grab Hoseok’s turtle neck as if they are on auto-pilot and tug it out of his slacks. He helps you in undressing himself.

As soon as his honeyed skin comes into view, you start salivating.

“Fuck! Is it really legal for you to be this sexy?” you speak the words out loud. Your hands explore the expanse of his chest, his stomach, his torso.

“Why? Are you going to report me?” Hoseok chuckles, trying to tear your hands away from himself so that he can see you properly.

“I might… report you to my bedroom.” You place a kiss on his throat.

He groans, finally grabbing your wrist, he pins those on your back and says, “I’m one hell of an attorney. I know how to win cases.”

He swiftly unclips your bra and takes the article off your body.

“Holy shit! Y/N! You are so fucking gorgeous!” Hissing at the sight of your bare chest, Hoseok garbs your right tit with his free hand.

“So big! Damn! I bet your nipples will taste heavenly on my tongue!”

His praises turn you on beyond repair, so you whine.

He takes your left nipple inside his mouth. At first he rolls his tongue on the bud and then he starts sucking it. His sucks are so powerful that the action produces loud wet sounds. You bite back a moan even though it’s tough to do so.

“Come on, baby! Let me hear you.” Hoseok speaks into your tit. His saliva runs down your bosom.

“B-but Sua is-”

“Her room is upstairs, remember?”

“O-Oh. I completely forgot you fucked Mina neumerous tim- Ah” a bite of sharp teeth on the sensitive skin of your nipple restricts you from completing the sentence.

Hoseok slaps on your other tit harshly and bites on your nipple again.

“Hoseok!” you let out a thunderous moan.

When he finally leaves you tits, those are covered in red, purple bruises.

Hoseok winds a hand around your naked waist and picks you up easily. You wrap your legs around his torso, letting him take you to his bedroom.

On other times you would take a look at the decoration of someone’s bedroom as that tells a lot about a person. But right now you can only think of Hoseok’s body, his mouth and those damned set of fingers.

He drops you onto his plush bed and hooks his fingers around the waistband of your underwear. Once those are discarded, he takes off his own slacks.

His strong thighs make you wanna ride him till you come undone. But then your eyes fall on his bulge. The anticipation of his rock hard cock filling you up makes your head spin.

“Let me see you, baby!” Hoseok cooes at you and only then you realize, you have been clenching your thighs and blocking the views.

Hoseok urges your legs open. Hungrily staring at your leaking core, he licks his lips.

“Fuck! The most beautiful cunt of the most woman I have ever seen. You are a fucking goddess! I will worship the ground that you walk on.” Hoseok groans briefly before he dives down into your heat.

As soon as his mouth comes in contact with your cunt, you start seeing stars.

He kisses your mound, then your folds and then your clit. He takes it into his mouth and sucks the bundle of nerves as his life depends on it.

And when he enters a finger into your core, you feel your heat building.

His tongue plays with your clit as two of his fingers plunge into your hole at a rhythmic pace. It’s too much to take, so you voice, “Ho-Hoseok! I’m gonna c-cum.”

“Yes darling. Cum on my mouth.” he takes out his fingers from your hole and replaces those with his tongue. His fingers do the job of drawing tight eight figures on your clit in the meantime. And as a result, he rips out one of the best orgasms you have ever had. Your scream accompanies your release as you cum in Hoseok’s mouth.

“So sweet. So fucking sweet.” Hoseok stands on his feets.

You are so fucked out already that you miss the moment when he releases his cock from its confinement and strokes it twice.

When your eyes finally fall on his naked body, you start getting wet again.

“Oh god, Hoseok!” you try to sit up and take a hold of his meat.

Wrapping your fingers around the base of his cock, you give a kitten lick and wipe away his pre-cum. Hoseok shudders with your touch.

But he takes his cock away from your hand and murmurs, “You can suck me dry later baby. I really really want to be inside you now. Will you let me?”

Sitting on your knees, you place a kiss on his lips, “Do whatever you want, Hoseok. I am all yours.”

Hoseok grabs you by your neck and smashes his lips on yours, “You drive me crazy!” His words vibrate into your mouth.

He tactfully lays you down and snatches a packet of condom from the drawer of his night stand before climbing on the bed. Rolling down the same around his girthy length and lines his cock on your entrance.

“Can I?” He asks briefly before pushing himself inside your greedy hole slowly.

He gives you a few moments to adjust first and when you are done he starts moving.

“Fuck! So tight! Fuck!!!” Hoseok growls as he holds you in your place by your waist.

The first few thrusts are slow, he takes his time with preparing you. But then you whine, “Hoseok! Faster!”

“Whatever you say, baby.” Hoseok mutters briefly as he urges you to sit up and change position. He pulls himself out of you.

Within a moment you are on your fours.

He grabs you by your waist and slams himself inside again, pulling out an earth shattering moan from your mouth.

His other hand reaches for your neck and then ventures into your hair. He grabs and pulls your hair gently as he thrust into you harshly again.

The thrusts are so powerful that your words morph into nothingness and come out as gibberish. You start clenching around him sooner than you would like to admit and you know you are gonna cum again.

“I- c-cu” and you cum on his cock even before Hoseok could offer you a reply.

“Shit!” He growls as he cums in the condom.

Your body falls on the bed, you are too exhausted to even get up and clean yourself.

But soon enough you feel one strong arm sliding underneath your stomach and flipping you over. Hoseok lays you down on your back and then places a damp cloth in between your legs. He cleans you thoroughly.

Honestly, you want to cry. When you peek at his face, you see nothing but admiration. He gives you a small smile and continues.

Once he is done, he lays down beside you. Greets you a small good night, wraps his arms around you and kisses on your crown as you slowly melt into a dreamless sleep.

He still can’t believe it.

Hoseok still can’t believe that you are now his. His to hold, his to kiss, his to love and do all the things he wants to do to you, with you.

Without any doubt, last night was one of the best nights of his life until now. And now that he knows how it is to fall asleep beside you and wake up with you sleeping in his arms, he doesn’t want a life without this.

He traces the contour of your face with his thumb as if to make it into a muscle memory. Your eyes, your nose, your lips.. He wants to remember everything, he wants to engrave it into his brain.

Your alarm goes off, breaking your sleep.

You stir awake and then look for your phone on the nightstand. Turning it off, you look at him and give him one of your most beautiful smiles.

“Good morning.” gosh! Your sleepy voice is perfect.

“Good morning, darling.” If hoseok isn’t wrong then he can clearly see you blushing at the nickname.

“How did it come here? I definitely left it at your dining place.” You ask him, pointing at your phone.

“I brought it. Thought you might have an alarm set and see I was right.” he reaches down and places a kiss on top of your nose.

“Umm. so considerate.” you mirror his actions. He giggles at that.

“I need to get up now. Do you have an extra toothbrush?” you ask, starting to get up from the bed.

“Y/N! I could drop you. It’s not a big deal.” Hoseok whines. He wants to spend as much time with you as possible. Or better he doesn’t want to let you go. But he knows you have work to attend and he values that.

“I know, Hoseok. But I don’t want you to wake Sua up and drop her to your sisters’ this early. And on top of that the cab is almost here.” you take your purse and follow Hoseok outside his mansion.

Hoseok intertwines his fingers with yours and pulls you closer once you are at the porch, “I don’t want to let you go.”

“Neither do I want to, handsome. But Namjoon will kill me if I take another day off. I slacked off for two entire weeks after my break up.” The mention of your break up somewhat dims the light in your eyes but Hoseok knows he can make it better. He can heal you.

He puts a hand on your cheek and places a chaste kiss on your lips, “So, today is our day 1?”

He knows he has successfully diverted your mind when your cheeks turn darker and a sheepish smile takes over your lips.

“If you say so.” you murmur.

Just right then the cab pulls in outside Hoseok’s mansion. You hug him and bid him goodbye.

“Y/N” he stops you when you are about to tear apart from him, “what are you doing this weekend?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all.”

“Great then.”

And with that you leave. Even though it upsets him, it also fills him with a new excitement of seeing you in two days.

Saturday comes painfully slowly.

But the prospect of seeing Hoseok not as your counselee’s guardian but as your boyfriend has kept you filled with an incredible amusement.

You two pondered on what to do and where to go for your first official date. But no options satiated you. You kept making excuses for whatever he came up with and there is a reason why.

You wanted to spend time with him inside the comfort of your home. And when you presented the idea to him, he agreed in a heartbeat.

The preparations have kept you busy since morning and it’s almost the time of his arrival.

So you change your clothes, slip into a fresh pair of tee and shorts, wash your face and apply some lip balm.

As always, Hoseok is right on time. He rings the doorbell right at 7 pm, just as you two decided.

“Hey, come in.” you open the door wide open, welcoming him inside.

He has arrived with a large bouquet of red roses and a plastic bag full of soju bottles.

“Flowers for a flower.” He offers you the bouquet and you can’t help but tsk.

“So cheesy, Mr. Jung.”

“I’m sorry.” he laughs out loud.

Once you are done putting away his presents, you take a good look at him.

He has his hair down today, unlike the other times you have seen him. His fluffy hair covers his forehead, making him look younger. His lips, as always, are inviting. And he has chosen to dress himself in an oversized white hoodie and baggy jeans.

“You.. are looking so beautiful, baby.” It’s hoseok who compliments you first. Wrapping his arms around you, he takes you in his embrace.

“I was about to say the same. You look so handsome, so domestic.” letting your lips capture his in a kiss, you show him how much you have missed him for two days.

“Is it okay for you to stay the night?” You ask Hoseok in between your ragged breaths. His mouth sucks on that one spot on your neck, that gets you all weak.

“Sua is with her grandparents and she likes them more than me.” He replies, pulling his mouth away from your skin for a second.

“I doubt that. She loves her daddy the most.” You giggle as Hoseok’s hands slide inside your t-shirt.

He shuts his eyes as soon as you emphasize you on “daddy.”

“Can you call me that again?” his voice trembles a bit.

“What? Daddy?” It's such a pleasure to tease him like that.

“Don’t tease me, Y/N!” his nails dig into the flesh of your waist.

“I’m not teasing you. I am asking. Is that what you liked to be called? Daddy?”

“Fuck it!” Hoseok growls as he captures your lips in a hungry, rough kiss. His hands reach up to your tits, groping the flesh to snatch a moan out of your lips.

And just then the doorbell rings.

You whine into his mouth before breaking the kiss.

“Who is it now!” clearly being very annoyed, you charge up to the door.

“Hello, who is it?” asking through the door dash cam, you wait for an answer.

Whoever is outside, is wearing a helmet and from the angle of the camera, it’s impossible to tell if it’s someone you know or not.

“Courier service.” the muffled voice of the person replies.

You don’t think much. You usually receive a lot of mail for seminars and stuff that has become a common feat.

So you open the door.

But to your dismay, the person wearing that damned helmet and bikers’ jacket is none other than your ex-boyfriend.

The scene slowly unfolds in front of Hoseok.

He sees your good mood turning sour as soon as you see the person standing at your door.

“What is it again?” you grit through your teeth.

This is the first time Hoseok is seeing you losing your cool and if he is not wrong then the person on the other side is your ex-boyfriend, Jeon Jungkook.

Even though your body is blocking the view, Hoseok can see the man taking off his helmet.

“I need to talk to you, Y/N. please.” he speaks in a calm voice as if it’s no big deal to knock on your ex’s door at 9 on a saturday.

Hoseok’s hands ball into fists. His blood boils at the thought of your ex-boyfriend trying to win you back even after he left you for someone else.

“I don’t understand what the fuck is left to talk about?” you scream at his face.

“Y/N, Please. I know you can’t forgive me for what I have done to you but I understood it. I- I realized my mistakes. I thought I fell out of love with you but-” the man sighs, his voice trembles constantly, “but I was wrong. I broke up. I- I ended things with her as soon as I realized I still love you. I never stopped loving you. I never-”

For a moment, Hoseok is afraid. What if you take him back? What if you accept his apologies and take him back into your life. What will be left for Hoseok then?

But, “It’s too late, Jungkook.” you cut him off.

“Y/N, please.”

“I don’t feel anything for you anymore. And I will appreciate it if you leave now.”

“Y/N, listen to me-”

“Didn’t you hear what she said? She asked you to leave, Mr. Jeon.” Hoseok intervenes. Even though he knows he should not butt in, but you are now his, and it’s his responsibility to protect you.

You turn your head to meet his eyes. Your face is apologetic as if you are ashamed of whatever is happening right now. He assures you a small “it’s okay”.

Then he looks at the man standing at your door, only to find him glaring already.

“And who are you to come between us?” Jungkook’s voice is now laced with venom.

“I am her boyfriend.” Hoseok replies as he walks up to you and stands between you and Jungkook as if protecting you from an impending danger.

Taglist 1:-

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#bts angst #bts smut #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #hoseok angst #hoseok smut #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #hoseok x reader #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #hoseok scenarios #jhope angst #jhope smut

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belokhvostikova · 7 months

Text

𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐇𝐢𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | What was supposed to be a summer vacation to your boyfriend's hometown, turned into God's greatest test of morality against you. In other words, you basically fuck your boyfriend's best friend, Eddie Munson.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, mention of alcohol, drug use, jealousy, possessiveness, small violence, a threat of murder (little yandere, but not really-ish, I don't know, to be honest), slightly dark (I think, right? Maybe?) cheating, and explicit sexual content: fondling, spitting, dom/sub dynamic, name calling, degradation/praise kink, finger sucking, nipple play, face slapping, pussy slapping, masturbation (male, but of female), fingering, handjob, cum eating, squirting, and unprotected vaginal sex.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | I... don't know what this is. Just take, goddamn it, there, take me for all I'm worth! Do I condone cheating? No. But did this idea make me really horny? Yes. And he's a little mean, so be warned.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬, 𝐃𝐨 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭.

Sometimes… you wished he’d never spoken those words.

When two weeks into his summer vacation in Hawkins, Indiana was enough time spent away from the debilitating semesters of university to have his newfound room—proffered by the closest of a distant family member, because two months with the folks would just be too much—smelling of the fresh cologne of clean air and washed linen; the smell that warmed you with the loving memories of ten months of sweet kisses and heavenly whispers.

When his navy blue comforter wrinkled under the weight of tussling bodies, because in those mere two weeks—his half in Hawkins, yours in Indianapolis—both hearts ached for the touch of one another, and he refused to deprive himself from the physical contact of his love, you. Crushing kisses, trailing hands, and connecting bodies to commemorate the rising sun, because a town miles away from the bustling city of beeping traffic and screaming pedestrians left room for the morning songs of the Northern Cardinal.

When the exhaustion of a two hour journey through cornfields and even smaller towns guided you to the place where he relished you in the memories of his boyhood; swing sets on the playground, the arcade after homework, Tuesday performances at the Hideout. Such memories came to life for you when the aluminum stock sign welcomed you into Hawkins. Sore from stiffness, your limbs crashed into the embrace of your lover, where your first night in the cursed town consisted of fucking the Friday night darkness away, until bodies glowed under the welcoming sun of the Saturday morning, where dewy grass freshened the air in contrast to the concrete slabs of cracked busy sidewalks you grew up on.

But then… he spoke those words.

When a stroking thumb against the hairs of your brow elicited the tired whine from your mouth, as you nuzzled your face into his naked chest to shield you from the burning sunshine pouring from the basement window. Your eyes woke to his dozy lips, chapped with pinched corners to show off the crookedness of his teeth that brought such beautiful character to his soul. Puffs of morning breath warmed your somnolent face with his morning greeting.

“I know I’ve told you this like a million times,” he croaked, “but I really am so happy that you’re here. With me.” His heavy hand landed on the apple of cheek to encourage your growing smile. “Can’t wait to show you around, can’t wait for you to meet my friends- the guys.”

Now, a new cologne of ashy darkwood and burning spices tarnished the content bubble of ten months of sweet kisses and heavenly whispers with groping handfuls and filthy intimacy. An anxious pit of guilty dread now eats you alive when the musk of his igniting cigarettes invades your being, but how can you think of such worrisome, when it’s the same scent that has your face torching with flames of desire and heart fluttering with anticipation for a new love- a different kind of love?

Other times… you are happy that he spoke those words.

Because it led you to Eddie Munson.

Her diamond scintillated, shoved in your face by her persistent eagerness to show off the glowing ring that beamed under strobe lights of greens and reds that twirled from the tiny disco ball. Eric Marcher, who couldn’t give you anything more than a nod of acknowledgement when introduced—despite his intimate hand clasp and hug combo with your boyfriend, had been detailed to you as the man needed when small town goers were itching for party favors. Now, in the cul-de-sac of Mirkwood, a lively get-together of strangers, like Cheryl “soon-to-be-Levison” Daniels, bombarded you with the overwhelming hospitality of detailing their personal life to the woman who snagged Braun Peterson.

A large smile matched that of her ring, beaming with a boastfulness of pride for fulfilling that suburban wife “dream” role, but you couldn’t blame her. A fat rock rested upon her finger to symbolize her everlasting love with her partner? Hell, you’d shove it in other people’s faces, as well. “It belonged to Nana Leslie before Oliver got it with her blessing. See, my daddy was never able to give it to my momma, because well, Nana never liked her,” you met her seven minutes ago, “but, anyways, it’s been in the family for two generations, and now it’s mine!”

“Oh, wow.” You liked her and her family drama. Your hands maneuvered to twist her finger, watching how beautifully the jewelry captured the light.

“I mean, it was kinda rash, ya’know, with the war and whatnot.” Her Midwestern accent sang. “Oliver wanted to tie the knot before his deployment, but I was not about to do it in City Hall. Though, he did promise me a big wedding when he comes back from Iraq.” She longingly sighed, as you nodded along. “Ya’know, something that doesn’t involve a smelly courthouse. “What about you?”

You chuckled. “What about me?”

“Have you and Braun discussed when you’d be getting married?”

You nearly choked on your drink despite not even having one. “Oh.” Quite the response to offer. “We’re, um, not exactly there yet. I mean, we haven’t even been dating for a year.” You awkwardly laughed.

“Well, you don’t wanna wait too long!” Cheryl huffed out an airy laugh. “It’s like, when ya’know you know, ya’know?” Her attempt to philosophize the concept of love left your head nodding along to move the conversation, but Cheryl “soon-to-be-Levison” Daniels surely had to knack to keep talking. “And don’t you know?”

Do you know? “Um-”

“Would you quit harassing my girlfriend?” A familiar hand squeezed your shoulder, before the presence of Braun Peterson came from behind the couch, where he bent down to smile at you.

“I am not harassing your girlfriend.” Cheryl scoffed. “And come on, I’ve been your best friend since we were babies! I know you! And I know you always talked about getting married!” She sternly punctuated. “I mean, it’s literally what made you cuter than the rest of the boys on the playground.”

Braun derided. “Okay, first of all, we were never best friends, I just had to endure being in the same grade as you.” You both chuckled, as Cheryl dramatically gasped. “And secondly, in case it wasn’t obvious, I’m not a seven-year-old that’s desperate to propose to any girl who was willing to push me on the swingset.”

“Oh!” You piqued his interest. “I happen to be a great companion on the swingset, I’d love to join you.” You sweetly beamed, an endearing feature that had him devastatingly blushing with love.

“Yeah?” He whispered in your face, where you met his question with a nod, reeling him in for a kiss.

“Ugh, see!” Cheryl’s voice had you separating with a hot face. “Marriage material! At least a proposal by the first year mark.” Her brows teased, forcing him to laugh in disbelief.

But Braun Peterson smiled, nonetheless, and your throat had constricted. While the idea of marrying your first serious boyfriend wasn’t the most unsettling notion, the reality of it coming faster than anticipated from the opinions of those closest to him, who unfortunately were raised in the small town mindset of a white picket fence before the age of twenty-five, had your tummy swirling with queasiness. Freshly out of university, the last thing you needed was a ring waying you down by a man whose loud chewing you were still trying to adjust to. A proposal in two months was not in schedule.

Because dinner was on Saturday. Meeting the parents was next Wednesday. Niece’s birthday party in two weeks. At least three years of dating before moving in. The fourth year, an engagement. The fifth, a wedding. Children? Somewhere long after.

Strict? Maybe. But perfect in your mind of precision? Absolutely.

“Um, could you get me something to drink?” You interrupted the possibility of any more talks of the future. “I just have to, uh, run to the bathroom real quick.”

His hand rubbed down your back so perfectly, calming the nerves that festered in your stomach. “Absolutely.” He assured you, as always. “I’ll find us something to eat, too, baby.”

So perfect, so perfect.

Your legs had guided you away from the living room before you could muster a brief goodbye. Maneuvering around shifting bodies, you found yourself counting the steps of the staircase, feeling the utter disappointment when the last steps came out in odd numbers, but the bathroom was two doors down, and the last thing you needed was to obtain tunnel vision from the minor details that didn’t fit your standards of life.

A knock to the wooden door with a silent response lifted the weight off your shoulders, permitting you to open the door and finally receive some peace. But the breath that nested in your throat lost its chance to be of relief, when a presence carried over from behind you, shoving you into the bathroom, with a determined slam to the door.

A rough hand muffled any of your attempts to yell out, but your stiffened body had luckily learned to vaguely relax when the man behind you turned you against the bathroom counter, and you came face-to-face with someone who familiarly made your body shudder under his stare.

His hands moved to grip the porcelain of the sink on either sides of you. “Eddie…” You gulped, as your chest heaved. “God, y-you scared, um, I- is s-something wrong?”

“You’re making quite the impression out there, aren’t ya?” His lip barely curled into a smile, as he stared down at you. “Everyone just fucking loves you, don’t they?”

You refused to meet his eye, trying to move from the caging of his arms, but his persistence left you trapped. “Um,” you sighed, “y-yeah, all your friends are nice-”

“Oh, no, sweetheart, they aren’t my friends.” He spoke so dauntingly. “They’re your boyfriend’s friends, remember? Your boyfriend?”

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat, “um, I should go, Eddie. I need to leave.”

“No, you fucking don’t.” He deeply chuckled, finding amusement in the panicked look of your face. “You just got here.”

“Look, Eddie, I don’t know what you’re trying to do-”

“Me?” He scoffed. “I’m not tryna do anything, you’re the one that fucking started it.” His forehead forcefully pressed against yours, shoving your head back so you’d finally look him in the eye. “Remember?” He tauntingly cooed at you, getting in your face. “Remember you being a slut, and startin’ it? Because I sure fucking do.” He spat. “So don’t ask me what the fuck I’m doing, when you started it.”

Your breath heavied, as his nose ran against yours, and you squeezed your eyes shut to wield the strength to compose your anger, a hatred solely targeted to yourself. You were certain Eddie was feeding off of the visceral pounding of your heartbeat, getting off on the sheer panic of your being.

And you hated yourself for loving it.

“N-Not here.” You thickly swallowed. “Please.” Such a desperate plea, and it had him laughing in your face.

“‘Not here?’” He mocked. “I think I can have you wherever I want, no? It’s sure as hell not like you’re gonna stop me, pretty girl.” A soft kiss planted on your cheek had your eyes opening. “God, you really are so pretty, y’know that, baby? Do you know just how pretty you are?”

“Eddie…” His eyes bored into yours, piercing your desire with a burning itch that had you intoxicated on his strong scent. You watched a smirk etch onto his face, as he watched you follow the outline of his plump lips. Do it. Do it. Do it. You were screaming at yourself to just give in. Thighs clenching, heart racing, mouth salivating for the man that enticed you like no other. Your breath shuddered, as your shaky fingers delicately placed themselves against his shaven face.

Just a taste. Just a little.

You reached onto your tippy toes to feel the soft skin of his lips gently brush against yours. You were dictating this. He was letting you dictate this. Because when it all crashed, you started it, you’d be to blame. All it took was the shy kiss fueled by your hesitancy for Eddie Munson to consume what he wanted, and his tongue shoved past your teeth to ravage your taste. He had you gasping against his lips, nothing touching you but his mouth, but it felt like he was pinning you against your will.

Eddie’s knuckles blurred white from the tightening grip you had him enduring, because frustration coursed through his body, as he fought the restraints keeping him from just giving in and fucking you against the bathroom sink. A guttural growl lurched from his chest, “What are you doin’?” He smashed his lips against you. “I didn’t ask you to kiss me.” He sneered.

His comment forced a lump to be caught in your throat, urging you to push away from his chasing lips. “N-No…” Another breathless kiss smeared against you. “Stop, Eddie, we can’t-”

“Shut your fucking mouth.” He interrupted with his tongue injected into your mouth. “Remember you wanted this.”

You were awful. “No!” You whined, unwilling to face the reality of your cruelness.

“Oh, but, yes, baby.” He humiliated you with his mocking tone. “Yes, remember?” He whispered into your make out. “It was you, you fucking looked at me.” Eddie scorned. “How fucking stupid are you to think I wouldn’t do somethin’ about you lookin’ at me, huh? You remember lookin’ at me?” His kisses were becoming more aggressive. “You fucking looked at me, sweetheart!” You felt the air in your lungs burn from his resistance to letting you breathe. “What the fuck do you expect me to do when you were fucking lookin’ at me like that, huh?!”

And you had been looking at him…

Three days ago, the Hideout had been an unfamiliar experience to you on the night of May 30th. It became evident as such when Mary Jane platform pumps rather distastefully met the abhorrent crunch of breaking asphalt from the gravel parking lot, where beat up cars and pick-up trucks haphazardly parked themselves with no formation, clearly lacking the etiquette for what was promised to you as a “nice” establishment. A wave of regret had drowned you in despair as you walked out of your car, immediately being met with the obscene noises coming from a drunken man nearly hacking a lung out, only to shoot his spit and mucus onto the dead bushes that once decorated the place wonderfully in the 60s. You begrudgingly passed the neglected entrance; its doors open for the sleazy, middle-aged men of Hawkins, Indiana to make themselves right at home, as they littered themselves amongst the breadth of the property, sparsely filling up tables and stools with cold beers to accompany them. A gasp of disgust had petered out of your lips, when each step you took sticky film residing on the weathered wood of the floor clung to the outsoles of your beloved heels, coating them with decades of syrupy beer that had found solace within the bar from the happy accidents that tailored the feng shui of the Hideout.

You were appalled.

It was beyond the definitions of obvious that you had overly dressed yourself for the occasion. It was at this moment, you were mentally curing Braun Peterson for providing the wrong impression, completely overselling the bar he once played in, and disregarding the lack of formality that came with the building and its loyal customers.

“Babe, it’s got a decked out bar, you can order whatever you like, trust me, my boy Johnny will whip it up, and it’s got plenty of tables for you to sit your pretty self down and enjoy the show. Not to mention, the nicest stage where you can watch me perform. It’s gonna be great, I promise!”

With a rush of worriment devouring you, you insecurely hugged your bare arms over yourself in an attempt to shield yourself from the preying eyes of unabashed stares coming from bulky men, old enough to be your father, who proclaimed themselves as regulars and patently peering to you as new meat.

Endeavoring the will to appear not so lost and clueless, you walked with your head held high, a fabricated facade of confidence, and you took refuge onto the high top table that accommodated two uncomfortable stools that shared the same layer of dust as the plastic faux wood of the table.

Yeah, you were definitely going to have it out with Braun Peterson.

Your body felt rigid, guarding yourself from potentially coming in contact with anything biohazardous, while also feeling so small from the persistent scary stares that you felt so strongly were examining your body as if you had no autonomy. And maybe you were being a bit pretentious at this moment, but given the overflow of staggering malaise that was consuming your being and clearly placing you into an uncomfortable environment, there was an absolute negative chance of actually enjoying the night, especially after you were going to dish one out to Braun.

Speaking of which, you caught sight of the slick-back, blond hair that was pursuing your way from a slim hallway that catered to the southend of the building, which presumably led backstage. “Hey, you made it!” Incompetent to your unease, Braun had merely stepped up and shoved you into a tight hug, a kiss swiftly placed onto your lips with a smacking mwah.

While he spoke so highly, clearly excited for his performance, you couldn’t fathom reciprocating his energy, immediately stating your concerns with a whine into his embrace. “What is literally wrong with you?”

Judging by your tone, anyone could have discerned the genuine disturbance from being in such situation, but ever the comedian, Braun merely chuckled. “That could be an hour long discussion, babe.” Your eyes flashed with disbelief at his choice to dismiss your evident worries.

You sighed, resisting the urge to not scream in public to cater to his comfort. “No, Braun, I’m serious. Why didn’t you tell me what kind of bar this was?” You pleaded, hoping he’d acknowledge your troubles rather than brushing them off. That was one thing you had quickly discovered from the months of making it official with Braun Peterson; he had quite the sense of humor, which wasn’t at all particularly harmful, but this “sense of humor” had a funny way of not knowing when to draw the line. The line always seemingly crossing your boundaries. But god forbid you spoke out. Last time you did, his roommate Josh asked you to quit being uptight on Braun’s behalf. “I look like I’m dining at a Michelin Star restaurant, not grabbing drinks at some middle-of-nowhere bar. Why didn’t you specify?”

You really didn’t want to cause such a confrontation on his first night back performing at the place in which he claimed was “the start of everything” for him but, my god, you were seething with irritation.

“Shit,” he huffed, understanding your worries once he took a glimpse of the perverted looks the attendees were more than glad to show off. “Look, babe, I seriously didn’t mean for this to happen-”

“You said this place was nice, Braun.”

“I know, I- I just knew you wouldn’t be into these kinda bars, but I really wanted you to come see me tonight.” He sighed. “I swear, baby,” he secured your shoulders into his hand, “I just wanted you to be here with me, b-but I screwed up. I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

You heaved in defeat, seeing the genuine remorse in his eyes. He hadn’t been far off with his assumption; twenty-three years of a city setting in the upper east side, where renovated brownstones of contemporary decor were more of your liking rather than the casualness of a lonesome bar.

Your lips jutted with a mumbled “it’s okay” to pass the tension. But Braun’s hands had worked their way to the fullness of your cheeks, where his thumbs delicately swept under your eyes. “Thank you for doing this.” He poured his eyes into yours. “I know it’s not your scene, but I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this, baby.” Braun leaned in to press his lips to yours, and that loving comfort was enough to ease your body into relaxation against his hold. His hands released for the brief seconds it took to take off his leather jacket and hang it over your shoulders. “Keep this on, and if anyone bothers you or-or does something, please just tell me.” He implored. “I’ll be right on stage, only a couple feet away, I’ll see you, okay?”

Huffing a sigh, you simply nodded, choosing to come to a consensus of trying to enjoy the night. It had been close to reaching a year that you agreed to be Braun’s girlfriend, and from then, he’d been dying to show you everything about himself. Following the end of the school year from university, Braun had made plans to spend the summer back in his hometown of Hawkins, Indiana, where he had adamantly informed you about the band, the one in which he partook throughout his high school career, Corroded Coffin. And there was no denying it, the bubbling feelings of a blossoming relationship, one where your boyfriend had an actual desire to share the intimate parts of his life with, like seeing where he grew up, made you burst with excitement.

Because even with his flaws, Braun Peterson had a gentle touch that filled your heart with a promising future of blissful contentment.

“I won’t leave you out here,” his hand found its way to your thigh, “afterwards, I’ll have drinks brought backstage, where me, you, and the guys can just relax in peace. Away from these creeps.” He gripped with loving reassurance. “And- and, I promise you some of the most incredible food, okay?”

You snickered through your nose with a bit of suspicion. “From here?”

Braun laughed at your wariness. “From Benny’s Burger, got the best diner food for your pretty belly.” You arched your brow, pushing it until he gave in. “Okay, okay, Enzo’s. Seconds, thirds, all on me, baby, whatever you want.”

“Deal.” He sealed your agreement with a playful handshake.

He smiled at you, bringing a comforting hand to your neck. “Thank you, again, pretty.” His thumb caressed. “Just wanna share this experience with you. Wanna let you know how cool I was back in high school.” He teased, as you giggled. “Here, gimme kiss.”

Braun pulled you in for a sweet kiss, letting your worries wash away with his reassurement, because he always had you. “You’re gonna do great, I’m sure of it.” You smiled against him.

“Only ‘cause I have you here cheering me on.” Braun finished you off with one more kiss. “Remember, I’m only a couple feet away, I’ll come grab you once we’re done.”

With that, Braun Peterson left you to your own accord, securing the warm leather of his jacket around you, as you watched him disappear into the back. Disagreements and solutions. Compromises and sacrifices. This is what it meant for the man who cherished your time, and publicly showed it like no other. Everything was okay. Until the minutes passed of tugging on your lip with anticipation, and the staged lights dimmed.

Everything was okay.

But the center spotlight had rained against a figure, and you hadn’t even internalized the fact that a stranger physically made your body react with a gasp, as you merely took in the sight of him.

Him, who caressed his warlock, fingers teasing the strings, and lips kissing the mic with heavy pants of excitement. “Nice to see some familiar faces!” He grinned, scanning the all too familiar bar that let his amateur band of misfits play every Tuesday night; the regular bar goers seemingly flooding him with memories of his youth years. But then, his eyes landed on you. Front and center. “Even better to see some… new faces.” His lips curled into a menacing smirk, drinking up your stunning face.

Your heartbeat pummeled out of your chest, heat chewing at your cheeks, as his daunting figure had you shying away with a flush state, like you were a school girl receiving her first valentine, forcing you to wrap Braun’s jacket tighter around you.

Shit, Braun!

Quickly, your eyes diverted to the man you should have been gawking at, tuning his guitar before peering up with a smile that held all the good in the world, one he solely dedicated to you on a daily basis. You mustered a shy smile back, attempting to swallow the guilt. And this is where it should have ended. It’d be quite ignorant to dismiss the reality that attractive people come and go everyday during relationships, so this is all it was. You saw something pretty, you admired it, you left it. That’s what you promised. That’s what you committed. So you blinked yourself straight, and gave small claps of encouragement to your boyfriend.

But the eerie feedback from the mic had your head snapping to the front man, and as expected, his gaze hadn’t left your body once; a smirk devouring his face when your eyes caught his. That night, an alluring spark ignited within Eddie Munson, and he was determined to indulge in it.

“We’re gonna perform a couple songs for old times’ sake, bring some life back into you old fucks.” He jabbed comments eliciting some laughter from the crowd that watched these antsy boys torment their ears years before. “So just like back then, as always, I’m Eddie and we’re fucking Corroded Coffin!”

The thrash to his guitar introduced the blaring cords of a song, reminiscent to one Braun typically played for the background noise of when your naked bodies dreamily slapped together. The frontman’s stage performance flooded your senses as you became mesmerized by the fluid movement of his fingers abusing the delicate strings, and his husky voice yelling the lyrics to the abrasive song. He was encapsulating the beauty of metal with such ease and grace, playing his heart out for a dingy bar filled with good-for-nothing men. It felt so utterly undeserving. He was meant for a real stage.

Eddie.

That’s what it was. That’s all it fucking was. It had to be. You weren’t a bad person. You couldn’t be. The familiar tunes matching that of how Braun Peterson would rut his hips into yours was the sole reason for the tantalizing heat that was creeping within your body, not because of the man with the long hair who punctured his hungry glare against you, as he belted the grotesque lyrics of whatever song it was that you never cared to officially learn the title to. But how could you have ever found the will to learn, when Braun would consume your thoughts with the drilling of his cock to the beat of the song? Why couldn’t that be enough? Why had your hips subconsciously rolled to find some needed friction against your seat to the thought of Eddie burying his face between the warmth of your body?

Why did it feel like he was burning you alive?

The disgusting reality of your endeavor to get off on a dirty stool to another man had hit you like a ton of bricks, rightfully slapping you in the face with utter shame for who you were, and you didn’t dare to spare Eddie another glance; eyes fluttering around embarrassingly to look at anything other than Eddie.

Braun. Braun. Braun.

He was right there. He always had been.

The night dragged on for an unbearable hour, filled with the ongoing cycle of desiring something that wasn’t yours and the self-loathing hatred to follow. The burn of Eddie gaze had your body crippling with anxiety, and you engaged yourself to only peer at the man who’d brought you pure happiness for the last ten months of your life. But he was there; torturing you with his eyes that felt laser-cutting from a mile away, despite how adamant you forced yourself to refuse his attention.

You hadn’t even verbalized a word to him yet. And it was devastatingly pathetic how submissive he had you.

The last cord of the night strung out with the fellow patrons commemorating their boys for the nice trip down memory lane. You adjusted yourself to gently cheer along, feeling awful when Braun’s brightful smile had never once dropped because of your presence in the crowd. Just focus on him. It was all you had to do. As the men walked off with their equipment, Braun’s sweaty figure jumped from the stage, heading straight for you.

You immediately jumped from your seat, forgoing the complaints of him being sweaty to hold him in your arms with such fervency. “You did so great!” His hands held your back, delicate kisses pressing into the crook of your neck.

“Yeah?” He searched for your validation, only ever caring for your words, as he mumbled into your neck, inhaling your sweet smell that comforted the adrenaline high he was experiencing. “You, uh, you liked the first song I picked out?” His brows teased.

“Of course!” You cupped his face to bring him into a smearing kiss that he gladly reciprocated. You pulled away, staring into his soft eyes that held all innocence, and you cursed yourself for ever thinking of another man when such beauty was held in the palm of your hand. Your thumbs gently swept on the underside of his eyes, as he smiled down at you. “You were amazing, Braun.” You sincerely spoke. Overcompensating? Completely. But you needed him to be okay, and his happiness was worth it. “You always are so amazing, Braun.”

He brought you in for another embrace, and sealed it with a loving kiss that had you melting in his arms. “You’re pretty fucking amazing, too, Y/N.” He spoke. “C’mon, baby, let's go on back.”

“W-wait!” You steadied yourself within your position, holding his hand tightly. “Um, w-we can just stay out here, I’m sorry for getting mad earlier.”

His head dropped, lips jutting at you before he landed a quick kiss to your forehead. “Don’t apologize where you don’t need to apologize, baby.” He urged. “Don’t gotta make yourself uncomfortable for me- in fact, I won’t allow it. Not after dragging you here in the first place.”

“No, really it’s fine-”

“It’s not, baby, I don’t want you out here.” Braun persisted. “Plus, I’ve been talkin’ the guys’ ears off about you, I’m sure they’d love to put your pretty face to your name. Promise they’re not as scary as you think.”

What a fucking lie.

A journey to the back hallway led you to the chipped door, where Braun relinquished a double courtesy knock before entering the room, where a waft of sweat and cologne welcomed you to the small dressing room that held the members of Corroded Coffin. Shifting behind your boyfriend, your eyes landed around the burgundy painted walls, littered with posters of the previous self-made artist who first established themselves at the Hideout. Where they were now? More than likely not Hollywood, given the cheesy names teenagers thought were cool at the time.

“Hey, uh, guys, gained a new fan today, Y/N, this is Gareth, Jeff, and…” A polite smile to both identified men waving back to greet you was easy enough. “Where’s Ed?” Thank god.

Braun directed you to the couch, leather and torn, with its yellow foam of cushion peering from the tears after years of being broken in by body weight. “Talkin’ to Nicky out back by the stage.” Gareth had answered, as a hand towel harshly rubbed against his head to ease the dripping sweat from his frizzy curls.

“Nicky’s the bar owner.” Braun intimately informed you, graciously bringing you into the loop.

“You enjoy the show?” Jeff, with a genuine attempt at conversation, had gestured for you to engage in. Perhaps it was the blatant stiffness of your body from the wariness of sitting on the couch that surely soaked copious amounts of bodily fluids than you’d like to imagine, that got him to ask for your honest opinion. Or, the other obvious, that you clearly dress far from the usual scene that was typical for a Corroded Coffin performance at the Hideout.

Trying to atone your ignorance to the metal scene, and whatever the hell tension that was between you and the frontman, your head awkwardly nodded in response. “Yeah, um, yeah, I did.” Braun’s reassuring hand landed on your knee. “I’m still getting used to our difference in music taste,” luckily that was receptive to a couple chuckles, “but it was great seeing him, a-and you guys out there, as well.”

Heavy footsteps from the stage announced themselves as they entered the dressing room, and your body hardened at the mere sight of his shining chest, coated in his perspiration, drenching the line of hairs of his abdomen to seep into the low hanging waistline of his pants. Your eyes snapped to the wooden floors, as Braun jumped to give a brief greeting to his friend who ultimately settled against the water dispenser right in front of you.

“Ah, now that you’re all here, babe, this is Eddie; Ed, this is girlfriend, Y/N.” Already accustomed to your presence, Gareth and Jeff felt no need to weigh in another hello, which resulted in an unfortunate silence, after Eddie, himself, decided staring at you was the only formal approach.

But it wasn’t until his intentionally loud, “huh,” that pierced the silent, did your stomach drop with fear. “This is your girlfriend?” Your eyes stung at the inevitable occurrence of your boyfriend’s friend outing you in front of everyone as the girl who just couldn’t keep her eyes to herself.

Braun’s brows cinched at his question, huffing in confusion. “Why’re you sayin’ it like that?”

Eddie had quickly dismissed him with a nonchalant shake to his head. “I dunno, what’ve pictured you with a girl like Mindy, ‘s all.” What an asshole.

You knew it’d be hypocritical to suddenly interrogate your boyfriend on whoever it was Eddie was referring to, especially when it showed Eddie’s intentions were not the purest of them all with the mention of a certain ex. “The fuck, dude, no, that was nearly two years ago.” Braun quickly shut down, evidently not amused with whatever game his buddy was trying to pull.

“Relax.” He chuckled, plucking a small toothpick from the table of plattered junk food into his mouth. “Only teasin’, man, y’know me. Plus, it’s good, shows good progress on your part; movin’ from small town pretty to big city pretty.” Eddie pointed a ringed finger at you.

Braun merely rolled his eyes at the arrogant attitude he’d learned to adjust to throughout his years in high school, but when he turned to you, and saw the tight-lipped smile you gave, he leaned in to comfort you. “Don’t give him a second thought.” He whispered against your hair. “Eddie’s just… out there.”

Patting your thigh, Braun walked to join his friend at the water dispenser, leaving you to heave the tightening breaths of your chest from the sudden suffocation you felt from guilt and anxiety. “C’mon, man, lay off the comments, alright?” Braun quietly spoke to Eddie. “I don’t need you chasin’ her away when I actually love her.”

“‘Love?’” Eddie playfully whistled. “Hm, you must actually care for this girl, huh?”

Braun confirmed with his lovesick smile that made Eddie want to hurl. Soon, Braun was leaning in close to bump his friend in the chest. “So what d'ya think?”

Eddie’s daunting eyes looked past Braun’s shoulder, connecting with your fretful ones, and a sickeningly smile creased his face. He tsked, watching your ostentatious manner refusing to touch the furniture he and his buddies called home. “Seems a little… anal-retentive.” He smirked at Braun. “But, hey, she’s cute, and y’know what, if you like, I like her.” If only Braun Peterson knew of the extent of the underlying meaning his closest friend was alluding to. “You good to her? Treat her well?” Eddie questioned.

“Of course.” Your boyfriend was quick to answer.

“That’s good, that’s good.” Eddie casually nodded along, chewing on the wooden stick between his teeth. “Aye, because y’know pretty girls like her will be quick to look for another man to satisfy her. Gotta treat ‘em well, so they keep their fucking legs closed.” The toothpick snapped at the sudden clenching of his teeth, before Eddie sighed a heavy breath to calm himself. “But I think you gotta good girl on your hands, Brauny, nothin’ to worry about.” Eddie dragged out, before calling to you. “Hey, that seat comfortable for you sweetheart? Need a stool or somethin’?”

A wave of nausea slapped you, as you watched his sinister smile.

Eddie Munson totally saw trying to get off at the sight of him.

His minacious laugh puffed in your face, as he loved watching your eyes crumble in self-reproach from your actions. “Yeah, you fuckin’ remember, baby?” He cooed, as your head dropped with guilt as to what you had just done. But his abrasive hand was quick to forcefully grab your face, cheeks squishing under his tight grip. “Don’t feel bad, princess, it’s okay to share a little.” Eddie smiled, as your eyes frantically looked into his. “Quit the fucking innocent act.” He advised you. “You and I both know how much of a slut you are.”

“I-I,” your thoughts had been racing with the screams of wanting him off of you, but your body was falling limp in his arms, ready to let him take what you so desperately wanted him to take. The words died on your tongue, when suddenly harshing pounding came from the door.

“Yo, anyone in there?!” A drunken voice called out.

“I’ll be out a second!” You managed to rip through your shaky voice, while Eddie breathily chuckled, his hand refusing to let go of your face.

Hearing the partygoer’s footsteps decline in the distance, your heart eased for the slightest moment, and suddenly your nervous system was wailing for you to leave while you could. But before you knew it, unexpectedly, the softest kiss was placed upon your scrunched lips from the man who nearly devoured your mouth so aggressively two seconds ago; you had no choice but to be receptive. “So sweet.” He gently moved his lips against you, it had your tummy erupting with the sensations of a new touch. “So fucking perfect, y’know that? Just how perfect you are?”

Every time he briefly left your lips, you whined for more attention, quickly bringing your lips back to him with a sigh of his name, “Eddie.”

“Mm,” he moaned against your mouth. “I can see why Brauny never shuts the fuck up about you.” The mention of his name had you stiffening. “Tell me, baby, do you suck his cock as good as you kiss him?”

Stunned and repulsed by the jerk you let kiss you, you shoved Eddie’s chest back, finally getting him off of you, and before you mind could process, your hand connected to his cheek with a stinging slap. Your burning hand had trembled, as it slowly clasped it over your mouth in disbelief. Eddie slowly turned to you with a sly grin, but before he could make any movements, your feet finally found the courage to sweep you out of the bathroom with a harsh slam to the door.

On autopilot, you quickly descended down the stairs into the lively living room that did little to ease the bloodcurdling thud of your beating heart that felt as if it was going to rip out of you. It wasn’t until a hand latched itself to the bicep of your arm, reeling you back against a body.

“Hey, hey, you okay, hon?” Braun’s voice echoed into your ear.

“U-Um-”

“Baby, look, if this is about what Cheryl said, please don’t pay any mind to it.” He stroked your arm with concern. “She- everybody here just has a traditional way of thinking, but it’s not what I think. I promise, I’m not looking to shove a proposal down your throat when you’re not ready.” Braun had a fascinating way of calming your worries that drastically differed from the rush Eddie had just forced you through. “Hell, I’m not even ready.” He chuckled, which was able to elicit a small smile from you, at least. “I wanna take my time with you, cherish my moments with you, baby.”

God, you were an awful human being.

Peering behind his shoulder, you watched Eddie saunter his way down the stairs with a lingering stare that quickly found yours. “C-Can we go?” You hastily rushed out. “I’m just a little overwhelmed m-meeting all these new people.”

“Okay, yeah, yeah.” He’s quick to drop off the beers to the living room side tables that were supposed to be your drinks. “C’mon, baby, let’s just take a breather.”

If you knew the guilt Braun Peterson felt for the sole reason of throwing you into a crowd of overwhelming people when you’d literally just kissed his closest friend, you would have pathetically begged on your knees for his forgiveness in front of everyone, and detailed the million ways he was so incredible. But this would stay quiet; suppurating within you, because the peace on his face was more important than wrecking his life. As he guided you to the front door, you looked back to meet the eyes of the man who sparked a match inside you, his arm hanging around a blonde, when you wanted to be the one held under it. Eddie Munson winked at you, cruelly changing the course of your life.

For the days to come, Braun saw an immense amount of affection coming from your part. But who was he to complain, when someone as pretty and sweet as you willingly showed the world how much you loved him? Welcoming the morning sun with your tongue prodded at the slit of his tip, before ferociously waking him with the ride of his life, as your ass pummeled against his thighs, only for the cherry on top to come when breakfast was served like you suddenly became a housewife to your boyfriend. But you’d do whatever if it meant getting the image of his best friend out of your head, despite it leading to the best orgasm you’ve ever had when you pictured it was his cock you were riding, only to realize your lip had been sputtering with blood, because you refused your mouth the need to call out his name, Eddie!

But Friday night came, and it seemed your thoughts satiated under the cuddle of your boyfriend, who agreed to a movie night that entailed buying an obscene amount of candy from the Family Video store, where Labyrinth was purchased alongside the sweets. Wrapped under his embrace, a thick woven blanket swallowed you against the rugged couch of the basement, where you felt yourself sinking deeper and deeper.

For once, peace had come, tranquilizing the tumultuous feelings that consumed you alive. That was until the basement door impetuously flung open before echoing with a slam, that had yours and Braun’s head snapping to the stairs that creaked under the incoming weight. “Mason?” He called out for his cousin.

But it wasn’t the familiar face of his family member who lent you both the basement of his house, and your stomach twisted with fear. “Nope.” He popped the enunciation, as his hair bounced with every step until he reached the bottom step. “But he let me in.”

Braun sat up with a curious look, too occupied with the arrival of his friend to notice the rash way you curled into his side. “Hey, you alright? What’s up?” His eyes followed, as Eddie dramatically plopped himself on the singular recliner next to the couch.

“Ah, nothing.” He made himself at home, clearly lacking the regard of his intrusion to your night. “Just hangin’ around, thought I’d stop by.” His eyes glued to the television screen.

“Not that we don’t appreciate you, man,” Braun began, “but, uh, this is kinda just a movie night… for us.”

Eddie watched the oddity of the movie for a split second, before his head twisted to the both of you, eyeing the closeness with a piqued brow. “Which one of you freaks picked this movie? Was it you, sweetheart?” He smiled, as he watched you shift uncomfortably.

“Alright, c’mon, Ed, seriously.” Braun interjected.

“I’m kidding.” Eddie scoffed. “C’mon, Brauny, it’s been months since I’ve seen you, the least you two could do is spare the couple minutes of whatever touching is going on under that blanket, and let me relax here for a minute.” He argued, sinking into his chair. You watched Braun sigh, for whatever reason suddenly becoming a lap dog to the friend he long admired throughout high school, merely bringing you closer as means to make up for it.

“By the way, driving all the way here seems to be the last resort to relaxing.” Braun poked.

“Aw, c’mon did you actually think I was thinkin’ of you, Brauny?” He wooed, his eyes briefly connecting with you, as Braun rolled his. “Was seein’ Cynthia down the street.” Eddie answered.

“Dude, Ed, doesn’t she have a kid?” Braun grimaced, recalling the moments in which his cousin’s neighbor—three doors down with a minivan and white shutters—threw him an occasional hello with a stroller evident on her walk around the neighborhood.

“So fuckin’ what?” He laughed, causing your stomach to churn with disgust. “That kid made her have massive tits, it’s not like I’m looking to be the stepfather.” Eddie smiled looking back at you, your eyes refusing to meet his. “Just a simple exchange of goods for services.” He proudly announced. “Speakin’ of which, I happen to give Cynthia my last couple’a joints, you got any to smoke here?”

“No.” Braun sighed, scruffing his hair with his hand. “Haven’t gotten the chance to speak to Rick to get some, miss it, though.”

“Then go get some.”

Fuck, you knew what he was doing.

“Me? This is my place you barged into, you go.” Braun retaliated to his friend’s taunting.

“Can’t,” Eddie tsked, “kinda fucked around with the blonde Rick had his eye on a couple nights ago at Eric’s.” He laughed. “But in my defense, she never clarified, and was fairly easy, so, I mean…”

“Can you ever learn to just keep it in your pants?” Braun jabbed, forcing his friend to chuckle at the joke.

“Priorities, Brauny, Priorities.” Eddie winked, before reaching into his back pocket, retrieving the loose dollar bills from his tattered wallet to slap against the center coffee table. “Look, it’s on me, we can wait for you here, right, sweetheart?”

No, no, no. Your knees clutched to your chest, as you tried to steady the breaths that were already becoming uneasy from his presence alone. Braun peered down at you. “You can come if you want. Just gotta wait in the car, don’t want you meetin’ someone like him.”

Your eyes flickered to the man who was sickeningly grinning, somehow having the power to pull a pulsating sensation from your pussy that had you swallowing thickly. “I-It’s okay.” It wasn’t. “I can just wait here.” You spoke so meekly, as though you’d been the victim in this situation, when Braun’s pure smile beamed down at you.

“Thirty minutes top, baby.” A quick kiss landed against you, before he stood from the couch. “Don’t let him burn the house down, please.” Braun joked, slamming his hand against the table to pocket the money Eddie provided.

“Gotta good girl’s influence hanging over me,” Eddie smiled, “nothing to worry about, Brauny.”

Your boyfriend chuckled, running a soft hand against the top of your head to wish you goodbye. “Love you, baby, be right back.”

“I love you.” You shared the sentiment, watching him jog upstairs, where the basement door closed behind him with a deafening silence that shot through you. You watched the door for far longer than needed, a pressuring sting coming from your nail digging into your cuticle to get rid of the apprehension that festered in your belly.

Eddie laughed. “What a fucking liar.” Your head snapped, ready to scream at him that your words held truth; the deep admiration for the man who did nothing wro- “That I am.” Eddie added, pulling out a zippo lighter from his pocket followed by a joint. He lavished in the twitching of your eyes, flashing from anger to anxiousness under the action of him shedding his jacket to light what was brought to his lips.

A puff of cloud escaped his mouth before he spoke. “Take a hit, baby, you’re so goddamn tense I can practically feel the stick up your ass.” He stood from his place to sit next to you, immediately rolling his eyes as he found you shifting away from him, until your back hit the far end of arm rest, feet digging into the cushion as your knees stayed glued to your chest. “Relax, alright-”

“Eddie, we can’t-”

“I’m only tryin’ to get you to relax, shut up for two seconds and take a fucking hit.” He scolded, and your eyes widened under his intimidation. His body scooted until your painted toes were trapped beneath the heavy weight of his denim-clad thick thighs, allowing him to bring the joint to your face. “Don’t wanna have to get mean, just put it in your mouth.” You wondered where the anger from your assault to his face was lingering, surely the hit had to have pissed him off to some degree. His fingertips pressed against your lips, as your mouth enveloped the end of the joint, welcoming the burn to your throat. “Look so cute with that shit in your mouth, so good, princess.”

You pushed his hand away when it became too much, trying to control your coughing from the large intake. “T-Too much.”

“Mhm, I know, baby.” He whispered, watching your lips pout, as his hand caressed your leg. Bringing the joint to his lips and hearing it sizzle, Eddie moaned against it. “Fuck, I can taste your mouth on it.”

You pushed your knee away to get his hand to fall back into his lap, where his fingers only moved to hover over the bulge of his pants, as he took more hits. Soon, his sole hand was undoing the buckle of his belt, and your brows arched against his movement, yet your mouth stayed quiet from any protest.

Your lips parted in awe watching his cock spring against his belly, pants coming to hang around his thighs. His finger came to gently tease the head, before his hand wrapped to smear the precum that oozed from the tip. So casually, Eddie Munson began fucking his hand so casually, as if you weren’t sitting next to him. He acted as though he was in the comfort of his own bedroom, and you wondered whether the bit of anger that mixed in with the arousal that pressed against your belly was from the fact that he could get off without even sparing a glance at you.

He smoked and jerked his cock, letting you bask in the glory of his heavy member, where his hand tugged the loose skin of his big balls to smack against his hairy thighs. As casual as he was, Eddie was itching to turn his head and watch your legs clench with need, something his peripheral could only get a glance at, but Eddie Munson wasn’t giving in. He felt your toes curl under his thigh, your body speaking for itself to be touched.

“Fuck, that’s so good.” He twisted his palm against the slick head of his cock, before he squeezed down to his base for more tugs that had him wondering if your pussy felt anywhere near as good as his hand. You watched his fingers pull up his shirt, until his teeth bit down to hold the fabric up, and his toned toros was cramping from the sensation he was bringing himself. “Mmm!” He moaned, wetting his shirt with his mouth, as his hand became relentless against the thumping veins of his cock.

No longer a thought of need, his fingers abandoned the lit joint to the ashtray that stayed stationed on the table with a few cigarettes, and his free fingers traveled to toy with his nipples, pulling the pebbled nubs to spark up his impending orgasm. “Ugh, mm!” His hips were gyrating upward, chasing the fleshlight that was his hand, as his speed increased, and your hands grasped onto the old couch for the needed restraint to not throw yourself onto him.

With an aggressive jerk to his cock, and a stinging pinch to his nipple, the angry red head of his dick sputtered out his creamy cum, dribbling against his belly before the pool collected against his unruly pubic hair.

His shirt slowly slipped from his teeth, as Eddie caught his breath with heavy grunts. “Fuck me, shit.” Taking his fingers, he dragged it around the breadth of his belly to gather the seeping cum, where he finally turned to you with dark eyes, and used his cum tainted fingers to motion you closer.

You body mindlessly complied until those same fingers were pressing into your mouth, letting his salty spent invade your taste buds, before your throat began getting fucked. “Wanna fucking slap me and walk away, huh?” His free hand wrapped behind your neck to keep you gagging at his mercy. “Wanna get mad at me for you being a filthy slut? ‘N drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy?” You whined, holding his wrist in an attempt to ease the thrashing of his fingers down your throat. “God, so fucking pretty.”

His fingers ripped from your tongue, but before your lungs could get a breath of fresh air, his mouth was on you, replacing his fingers with his tongue, as he kissed you with such ferocity, it nearly felt like a punishment. Teeth clashing and biting, you mewled in protest. “Eddie!” You gasped pushing away, but his hands kept your face close.

“What, you don’t want me to?” He mocked, before laughing. “Y’know I don’t give a fuck.” Pushing you back against the couch, Eddie climbed over you where his mouth continued his assault against your lips, and your hands wavered into his sweaty curls.

In the briefest moment your lips disconnected, “W-We need to-” You moaned, feeling his plump lip suction against yours. “Stop, Eddie, we should- ugh!” Eddie pulled away and watched your body crave more, but your eyes stung with its glassy coating of tears that were threatening to spill. “Braun…”

“Aw, he’s gonna come back soon, ‘n you don’t wanna get caught.” He whispered, as his forehead fell against yours.

“He’s your friend.” Your voice cracked with guilt.

Eddie huffed. “You better listen clearly.” His hand wrapped around your jaw to force your eyes to his. “Brauny’s a big boy. Yeah, he may be my friend, but Brauny’s got this pretty, little thing that I need to play with, so being frank with you, baby, I don’t care.” His nose flared with anger, as his words stung. “And I’m gonna need you to cut this bullshit sorry act, because it’s really pissin’ me off, and I don’t wanna have to get angry with you.” He hissed. “Okay, baby?”

You stared into his dark eyes, mouth gulping to reply. “Okay.” And once again, your lips grazed his, letting him groan into your mouth.

“Mm, you really are so pretty, angel, such a good girl listenin’ to me.” He murmured. “Looking like this, how could your boyfriend ever expect me to keep my hands off of you?” He kissed. “You gonna let me touch you- touch that needy fuckin’ clit. I’ve never touched one before, you gonna let me touch yours?” He tormented with the brushing of his fingers against your pajama shorts.

You pouted your lips at him, brows cinching at his words. “I feel like you’re lying to me.”

And Eddie Munson snuck that signature laugh in your laugh that you didn’t appreciate, but your pussy surely did. “What does it matter if I’m lyin’ to you, you’re gonna let me touch you, anyway.” His fingers curled around the scrunchy waistband, before pulling them from your legs to expose your sopping cunt to the cold air of the basement. “Fuck, look at that.”

You didn’t know what came over you, but with a hand over his where he parted your legs, you chin tucked in to delicately ask him a question. “Did you really have sex with those girls?”

Eddie smiled, tongue lapping at his lip as he looked at you. “Does it hurt your feelings if I did?” You shrugged, not really sure why you asked, though clearly agitated by the knowing answer. “Do I gotta tell you pretty things, so you don’t get hurt?”

His hand combed through your patch of pubes, tickling your abdomen in a way that had your body seeking for more. “Please, Eddie.”

“Mm, what is it, baby?” His nails raked down the side of your pussy lips, deliberately avoiding your slit to tease the nerves of your mound. “Need your little pussy touched? It’s so fucking gorgeous.” You nodded, scratching his forearm down to his wrist to urge his movements further. “Gimme another kiss first, princess.”

You pulled him in, letting your kiss spark up the butterflies that loved to erupt in your tummy whenever you saw him. Not so harshly as before, your kiss passionately swallowed you both, with the sweet connection of saliva that strung between your moving lips. But you had an appetite for more, grossly moving the kiss into a heated direction that had him moaning on your teeth. Denying yourself from him was punishment enough, the care no longer festered, you were getting what you deserved.

“Uh, calm yourself, baby.” He spoke between kisses with a teasing chuckle. “Look at you so desperate, shh, calm down. Be slow with me for a second, sweetheart.” You obeyed, slowing your movements into a languid interaction, before your lips latched onto his tongue, pulling it out from his mouth to suck on, as if it was his cock, because you never got the chance to fully taste his musk.

Eddie mewled, cock twitching against your thigh, as your action had him melting with a burning desire. Finally, the squelching noise of your dripping arousal echoed into the room, as his fingers dove into the folds of your pussy. “Is that your fucking clit, baby? Listen to how wet your pussy is for me.”

“Mm, Eddie.” You sucked in a breath, as your fat bud was being toyed with.

“Moaning for me, princess, you’re moaning.” He whispered into your ear. “‘Cause you're mine right now, I’m making you moan, not him, hm. Not your little Brauny. You only moan for me, at least for right now, because you have a boyfriend.” You absentmindedly nodded along to whatever words he was feeding you, too caught up with your pussy being played with to care. “We’ll see about that.” He laughed, before nipping at your earlobe.

“Wanna touch you, too, baby.” You whined, reaching for his hung cock, letting your hands twirl around the heated length that was circulating with enough blood to fuck you for multiple rounds.

Eddie hissed. “Sss, what are you doin’? Grabbin’ my fucking cock?” He smiled, as you stroked him, allowing him to plunge his fingers into your tightening cunt, as both your movements fell in sync with one another. “Grab it, yes, baby, fuckin’ grab that cock!”

“Fuck, that feels so good, Eddie!” His fingers pulled out to rub your clit, before suddenly your pelvis jolted with the burning sensation of his hand coming down to your pussy. “Eddie!”

“Lemme slap that clit, lemme slap that fucking clit, baby.” Your wetness splashed against your inner thighs with each spanking of his hand. “God, you don’t know what you do to me, sweetheart. Such a pretty girl, I’m fucking losin’ my control over you. Got you strokin’ my cock, while my fingers fuck your pussy, and I love it, baby, I love it so fucking much.” He babbled, teeth biting down to keep the worse words in. Your brows furrowed, as his fingers blasted within you, hooking inside to scratch that throbbing g-spot that had you wailing with want. “Smile for me, baby, smile ‘cause I’m making my baby feel so good.”

And you did, letting your head crash back with your mouth hanging open with an inebriated smile tugging at your lips, as you played with each other. His lips crashed down for another smearing kiss that had your tongues desperately pirouetting around each other.

Your thighs began shaking under his control, pistoling his fingers in a way that was bringing you closer to your release. While looking down at your thrusting hips, he simultaneously pulled away from your kiss, leaving you to whine for his return. “No! More!”

He looked back up into those pathetic round eyes and scrunched brows with your bitten lips that nearly had him collapsing with another orgasm, as your hands pulled at the head of his cock and squeezed his balls. “Don’t you fuckin’ look at me like that.” He warned, not ready to release his load if it wasn’t going to be inside of you, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of his sweaty face, beads of perspiration invading his hairline, as his face flushed with a blushing rose that surely made him feel embarrassed with how vulnerable he looked. “Don’t fuckin’- don’t you- ugh- no, no, no, no!”

His large hand slapped your cheek, forcing your face away, leaving you gasping in disbelief. “I’ll fuckin’ slap you.” He spat, watching you merely turn your head back with a sparking revelation in your eyes that made you look even more beautiful. “I’ll slap your stupid fucking face-” Another stinging crash to you cheek that had you crying in pain, but you kept looking for more. “You like that shit?”

You hurriedly nodded, letting your tears pool from the growing pain that tightened your pussy around his fingers. “Yes, more!”

A harsh smack landed on your cheek once more, agitating your poor skin. “Mhm, like that, me fucking slapping that stupid, little fucking face.” His hand felt the wetness of your tears drenching your cheeks with every slap. “Bruisin’ that pretty fucking face, fuck! C’mere, c’mere!”

His tongue lavished against your burning skin, bringing tingles to your body when his spit-covered tongue ran against your hot cheek to lick up your salty tears. “Get your fuckin’ hands off my cock, I’m shovin’ it inside your desperate cunt.” Eddie declared, slapping his tip to your pussy, to let your wetness pour on his dick.

A harsh stab to your pussy lunged his thick cock into your pulsating walls, urging a screaming moan from your lungs. “Fuck! You’re so fucking tight!” His hands clamped around the front of your thighs to fold you in half.

“Ugh, fuck! Slow, p-please, baby, slow!” You wailed.

“Yeah?” He cooed, driving his thrust down to one punctuated one every second. “You want this cock slowly, can’t fucking handle this tight, little pussy getting fucked hard?”

Your trembling hands cupped his face, letting you bring him down for a consuming kiss. “J-Just wanna feel all of you.”

“You are, baby, you are.” Eddie pierced himself into your g-spot. “Feel it deep inside, baby, feel my fucking cock all the way inside! Just for you! You- you fucking dirty, filthy whore!” The muscles of his ass tightly clenched to pound you thoroughly with each stroke. “Gonna let me do it faster? Huh? Fuck you into this fucking couch until your some braindead slut? Look at you taking my cock!” His hips began slapping faster. “Gonna be fucking good for me?”

“Uh-huh! Always, fuck!”

“You will?” He taunted. “You fucking will? You’ll take this cock whenever I want you to? Whenever I want this pussy of mine? In front of your boyfriend? Tie him to a fuckin’ chair, and force him to watch me fuck his pretty girlfriend’s little cunt!”

“Yes! Yes! Fuck me better than him!” Your hips moved to meet his slapping thighs, as you clenched around his cock to milk him with the cum you wanted in your cunt. “Want him to watch me take your fat cock!”

An animalistic growl forced its way out of chest, as the image of his best friend crying over the despair of betrayal elicited him to rut his hips into you fervently. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” His head dropped against your chest, reveling in the commotion of your bouncing tits that were urging to be freed. His hands pulled at your shirt, exposing your boobs that were quickly squished together under his hands, as his tongue lapped around your nipple.

“Ugh, yes, you’re gonna make me cum!” You heaved, finding your hand had landed on his thigh at a weak attempt to slow his crashing movements into your pussy.

“Beautiful fucking tits!” He nibbled on your pointy nipples, forcing those whines that drove him crazy to come out. “So fuckin’ delicious! And just for me!”

“Just for you! Only you!”

“Yeah?” He pouted at you. “Fuck, fucking lick my hand, lick my fucking hand, you bitch.” His palm landed on your mouth, where you dumbly stuck your tongue out to taste the sweatiness of his hand, before that same hand came crashing down on your cheek for the umpteenth time. “Stick that filthy fuckin’ tongue out when I slap you in the fuckin’ face!”

You obliged, letting the wet muscle hang out as another slap landed on your face, forcing your head to the side. But turning your face back with the expectation of one more slap fell short, when instead, a glob of warm spit hit your tongue, one after another.

“Fuckin’ clean that asshole from you fucking holes!” More spit. “‘Cause you’re mine! Not his! With my spit in your mouth and my cum in your pussy, you’ll be fuckin mine, right?!”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as the rope in your belly was hanging on by a mere thread ready to snap. “Yes! Yes! Just yours!” You cried out. “Cleanse me! Cleanse me with your cum and make me yours!”

Eddie’s hand pressed down against your pelvis harshly, prompting a gushing stream of your hot squirt to wet yourself and his thighs, as you screamed from the highs of orgasmic ecstasy. “Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck! I’m cumming! I’m- FUCK!”

Nothing but heavy breaths could be heard in the basement that reeked of sex and bodily fluids. Your hands fell limp around his neck, whereas he sagged the entirety of his dead weight against your chest. His teeth grinded from the continuation of your pussy clenching around him, as your body tried to settle at the unfamiliar size that inculcated itself brutality into your cunt.

It was quiet. It was peace.

Until the ringing in your ears subsided, and slowly began picking up on the maniacal laugh that was coming from the man who slowly picked up his head from your chest to greet your un-whitening vision with a sinister smile, and suddenly you felt the pit in your stomach sink.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’ve just made a big fuckin’ mistake.” He chuckled, harshly pressing his forehead into yours, causing the seat cushion to dent beneath you. “Y’know why?” He tantalized, watching your eyes grow big with fear. “Because if your little boyfriend touches you after you just said you were mine,” he placed a delicate kiss to your lips that you couldn’t muster to reciprocate, too scared to do so, “I’m gonna fucking kill him.” He laughed.

A minute and eight seconds.

Braun Peterson had leaned the weight of his body against the counter, letting the low hum of the buzzing microwave lull his mind to ease, as the fingers of his hand shoved against his eye to wake from the tiredness of the morning day. It hadn’t been until the slap of a heavy hand against his bare shoulder jolted his eyes open to see his cousin slugging his socked feet against the linoleum tiles, before scratching the floor with the chair legs to have a seat at the kitchen table.

Mason had yawned, stretching his jaw from the bitter soreness of having to deal with a restless night of grinding his teeth. “Where’s the missus?” His nails scratched over his stubble. “Sleepin’ in?” Given your gratitude for a place to stay, Mason had spent the few days of your presence waking up to a full breakfast of all the fixins, differing greatly to the two-minute microwave food the young welder had to succumb to for his poor skills behind the stove.

The morning had changed with the sight of Braun in front of the buzzing appliance. “Out, actually.”

“Already?”

“Yeah, couple days ago,” Braun cleared his dry throat, “she met Cheryl- you remember Cheryl?” Not exactly someone from Mason's graduating class, but given Hawkins’ small breadth of streets, a distant young face of hormonal acne and blue eyeshadow was all that could be pulled from his string of memories, as Cheryl Daniels still sported that purity ring that had long gone been switched out for an engagement ring to her military fiance, whom she could relish his fat benefits with. So, Mason simply nodded to get the story along. “Anyway, yeah, Y/N met her, and, well, you know how women are; one giddy introduction, next thing y’know they’re doing 9:00 a.m pilates and leavin’ me behind to eat some shit food for breakfast.”

Mason peered at the counter to see the empty box of his frozen food. “You asshole, ‘s that my last Hot Pocket?” His mundane voice spoke, too tired to hold any real malice behind it.

“I’ll head to the store and buy you a whole new pack, relax.”

Braun Peterson steadily watched the last couple of seconds tick down. “If anything, man, I deserve that one after you and Y/N kept me up last night.” Mason breathily chuckled.

“Ah, sorry,” Braun stretched his arms, “Y’know Eddie came over, we watched a movie, didn’t realize it was so loud- which if you want any advice, don’t watch Labyrinth high, unless you wanna have a total freak out.”

“Not talking about that.” Mason shook his head with a laugh. “But, aye, next time you bring Munson around and make my basement reek of weed, the least you could do is save me some.”

But Braun’s eyebrows had stayed scrunched with concern to ever consider his cousin’s future word of advice. “The hell are you talking about then?” He curiously poked.

“You and Y/N.” Mason emphasized with a sly smirk to tease. “I mean, you guys are usually pretty considerate, but I guess the weed really got to y’all or somthing, man, you two were fucking loud last night- and I mean that literally.” He laughed. “Would’ve taken her as a quiet girl.”

Braun Peterson blinked. You had went straight to bed last night after the movie. In fact, you heavily implored him to do the same, after swifty prompting Eddie out of the door when the credit scenes rolled. “Y/N and I- we didn’t… no, we didn’t-”

The microwave beeped.

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson blurb #mean!eddie munson #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic

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ilovefictionalman21 · 5 months

Text

Warning- MDNI, NSFW version of (Daryl is the type..), Semi public making out, fingering (r receiving), oral (both F and M receiving) intercourse, light pussy slapping, unprotected p in v, idk anymore it's pure smut -.-

Daryl is the type to take some time for intimacy. It's not that he do not want it It's just he's afraid his nature..or roughness would hurt you. (After all you're precious to him).

Forehead kisses are the love language for him (at the start), after going on long scavenging all he can think about is you. How your small body feel when he hugs you,how soft your skin is when he kiss your forhead..and your cheek. Your lips..your soft lips on his face. Your small hands intertwined with his,your body fits perfectly whenever he hugs you from behind.

Just thinking about it makes him work up..

As soon as he is back he looks for you which he always does whenever he's back from the trip.

Daryl is the type to move always silently but not this time..when he steps inside your shared house,he didn't see you..where did you go?

Barging out the door he walk around the town looking for you, frowning and glaring at everyone in his way..

When he saw you babysitting Judith,that's where his heart melt- he is ready to take another step..the thought never occurs him. But seeing the scene? Not so bad ...

Daryl is the type to hug you tight and bury his face in your neck as soon as you come back. His hands roaming around your waist and your back.

Daryl is the type who would show he is ready to take another step by resting his forehead on yours. His breathing heavier than usual.

''I don't know,all I can think about is you- and seeing you with Judith didn't help'' he whispers and with that he lean down to your lips,his hand resting beside your neck.

The connection was soft and slow unlike his demeanor. His hand on your neck creating a Possessive act the kiss might be slow but his hold isn't soft.

The kiss turn into make out session- until you were pin down on the sofa with one of his leg between yours. His knee creating a pressure between your legs. Smirking as he heard your soft moans and whines.

It was the start, Daryl turned into the type to respect to I don't care about people anymore type.

Makeout sessions behind every coner, in the dark- in the car, in the garage...

Daryl is the type who is not ashamed of showing his desire towards you. At first he was hesitant but seeing you do not resist him or stop him he become bold.

Daryl is the type who is obsessed with heavy makeout session- sloppy kisses on your neck,his hands going under your shirt groping your skin. Your hands in his hair.

Daryl is the type who daydream of doing unholy things to you on his bike- you ride his bike with him. So it's fair you ride him on his bike right?

Daryl is the type who also enjoy kisses in bed,sheets tangled around you both..slowly moving his hips down to you just to work you up.

Daryl is the cruel type- he do all the touching just to get you over your limit..just to see you break down and beg him to touch you. Which you did.

Daryl is the type who take his time by kissing you down by your neck,your cleavage,your waist and take out your shirt.

Daryl is the type who does the first seeing your..naked form in the room (He might enjoy sneak out kisses but this is only for him)

Daryl is the type who admire your tits before reaching down and take them in his mouth..flicking with his tongue. Sucking,bitting,nibbling,licking..

Daryl is the type who knead your other tit and play with your nipple while he attacks your one with his mouth. (Just to hear your pleadings and the way your back arched)

Daryl is the type who loves foreplay- especially playing with your chest. Feeling your curves under his hand. Doing his best to not ram in you and hold your waist.

Daryl is the type to lean on your thigh when he softly ask ''Can I have a taste?'' While teasing your entrance. (He become so polite when he's in the mood)

Daryl is the type who would happily drown between your legs,your thighs crashing his head. That's where he would die happily. His beard creating slight sensation.

Daryl is the type who would draw back when you said ''Coming..'' and chuckles when he heard your whine. Lightly slapping your pussy and whispering ''Who tell you, you can come? Princess''.

Daryl is the type who would call ''Princess, doll, sweetheart'' while he eats you out and fingers you..with eager.

Daryl is the type who would not let you come easily but when he would it's not going to be one or two.

Daryl is type to get shy and stiff when you touch his Dick and offer him that you would do the same for him.

Daryl is the type to enjoy the view with your small soft lips wrapped around his big dick, making small gag sound when you attempt to take in more.

Daryl is the type to smirk and praise you when you do a good job taking him in,in your mouth. His hand resting behind your head just to keep you there.

Daryl is the type to cum by ramming inside you..not in your mouth. For the first time.

Daryl is the type who enjoys Missionary, he can see your face and kiss your neck.

Daryl is the type who would go slow at first,trying to give you time to adjust- before ramming inside you with no mercy.

Daryl is the type who loves to hear you moaning his name over and over like a prayer and your dazed fucked out face is his favorite of the view..just like how he Imagined.

Daryl is the type who would go as deep as he can to mold you into his cock drunk slut,only for him,only for his dick.

Daryl is the type who last long and would keep one position for you to reach your high..

''The night is young'' ''You look so adorable like this,drunk on my cock'' ''are u my cock slut? Hmm? Baby?'' ''You feel so good'' ''you're doing so good sweetheart'' ''that's it,that's my girl'' ''there we go''

Daryl is the type whose face is always close to yours,and hold hands.

Daryl is the type who enjoy the position where he can see your face or where he can have an access on your neck (he is obsessed with it).

Daryl is the type who murmurs slur words of how much he loves you,and how good you feels,how good you're making him feel.

Daryl is the groaner and low moaner, near your ears or in your neck.

Daryl is the type who would cum in you (would your consent) cause he can scavenge,and he can do it. He can take responsibility- he loves kids (Judith and Carl..) well if it's a girl who look like you or a boy who looks like him he would definitely love them.

If you give him consent,he will breed you..after all your hole feel so good to take out (he would love to paint you but that can come next time).

Daryl is the type who would hold your stomach down to create more pressure and make you feel more sensation, also feeling his dick moving in and out in your stomach where his bluge is.

Daryl is the type who would take serious after care, eventhough he doesn't know it..but he'll try. He will listen to everywords you said.

If you need cuddles you'll get cuddles,if you need kisses you'll get kisses,if you want to sleep he'll sleep beside you.

Daryl is the type who would hold you tight in his arms and drift into sleep.

Daryl is the type who would searched for you in the middle of the night if you got up for water.

Daryl is the type who would have round two (for him) when he wakes up in the middle of the night.

Daryl is the type who loves to wake you up by greeting your clit with his tongue in the morning. His tongue doing work to get you up.

After all that's how he would start his day. And that'll not change.

#twd daryl #daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl x reader #daryl fanfiction #twd smut #smut

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scarlethexelove · 4 months

Note

Heyyy

there would you mind writing jealous Agatha x fem reader where reader attracts attention at a party and Agatha becomes jealous with smut 🥹

pls 🙏

Let Them See

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader

Word Count: 1985

Warning: Smut, Dom!Agatha, Sub!Reader, Strap-on (R receiving), Exhibitionism, Marking, Jealous Agatha, Daddy Kink, Pet Names (Kitten), Voyeurism, Squirting, Light Spanking (Like 2 hits).

A/n: Hope you enjoy this. It was definitely fun to write.

NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN

You walk into the bustling terrace of the high rise building. Twinkling lights and torches scattered around illuminating the open area, stars dancing in the night sky. Your arm is wrapped around the arm of the woman who has brought you to this elegant party. Agatha is a partner at one of the biggest law firms in New York City. You hate the parties but you tolerate them for your wife. These are where she makes her connections and where she likes to show you off as the perfect housewife.

You stand with her as she talks with others. Her bosses and potential new clients, but you're quiet and just need to get away for a bit. So you lean into Agatha and whisper in her ear. “Baby I’m going to go get a drink and sit for a bit.” She turns to you with a smile. “Of course sweetheart I’ll come find you when I’m done here.” She pecks your lips before you slip away and make your way to the bar.

There aren’t many people at the bar giving you some breathing room and a chance to calm the nerves. You order a drink and sit at the bar stool lightly sipping on it as you stare off into space. You can’t help but jump when you feel a hand on your shoulder. You expect it to be your wife but you're surprised at the green eyes staring back at you. “Oh, Wanda, you scared me.” You place your hand on your chest feeling as if your heart could beat out of your chest.

Wanda was someone that Agatha worked with frequently. You could even call them friends and in turn Wanda had become a friend to you. “I’m sorry dear, I didn’t mean to startle you. I just saw you alone over here and wanted to check on you.” Her hand slides down your arm lightly leaving goosebumps in their wake. “That’s ok I just didn’t see you.” You giggle and smile at the woman. She takes the seat next to you and looks you up and down. Her eyes racking over every inch of your body. You can see her lick her lips as she looks at the long slit in your dress that goes high up your thigh and the darkness in her eyes when she lands on your perky breast. She finally makes it to your eyes and smirks at you. “You look stunning Y/n.” Her voice dropped an octave. You can’t help squirm in your seat. You would be lying if you didn’t think the woman in front of you was stunning but you were married and you love your wife more than anything.

You slap Wanda’s arm. “Oh you flatter me, but I don’t compare to you.” You genuinely smile at the woman. She returns with a smirk. “Oh sweetie you are too kind.” She places a hand on your thigh. You look down and back up at the woman. Your cheeks dusted in a shade of pink. But you miss the eyes that are glued to you. Rage and a sense of possessiveness forming in them. Agatha making her way towards the both of you.

“Wanda.” Agatha hisses getting your attention and Wanda’s. Her hand quickly retracted as Wanda coughs. “Hi Aggie. How are you doing this beautiful evening?” Wanda faux innocence as she looks up at the older woman, a slight smirk playing on her lips. “Fine.” Agatha grits out. “Y/n can you come help me with something?” She turns to you and you can see the fire in her eyes. You gulp down the fear and nod your head. “S-see you later Wanda.” You're able to call out as Agatha drags you away.

No words are spoken between you two as Agatha leads you to the elevator. Even as the doors close nothing is said and you're too scared to say anything. You know your wife's jealousy can be bad but sometimes it is oh so good to see it come out. Right now you’re not sure what you want. The door dings and Agatha leads you out.

Agatha twists you to look at her after a few steps. “What the hell do you think you were doing back there?” She growls. “Just talking to Wanda.” Your voice is small but you try to sound confident. You start to back up as she stalks towards you. “It looks to me that she was flirting with you and you were letting her.” She keeps walking until you are backed up to the railing. You look back and can see the party going on down below before returning your gaze to your wife. “I-I.” You can’t even finish your sentence before she flips you around. You brace on the railing as Agatha pulls your ass towards her. She has bent you over the railing slightly as she grinds into your ass. That is when you notice it. That noticeable bulge in her pants that has a moan escaping your lips.

“You want to be a whore. Daddy is going to make you a whore.” She grinds into your ass and slaps it hard. You can’t help the whimper that comes from your lips as you push back into her already feeling your arousal soaking through your underwear and down your thigh. She pulls down the zipper of your dress which causes you to panic. You can see all the people milling down below you. She is already tugging it down before you can comprehend. “D-daddy what if they see.” You try squirming away. You hear her chuckle darkly. “Let them see.” She pretty much rips your dress down until it pulls at your feet. Your nipples are hardening in the cool air. Her hands cupping your breast as she grinds against you. You whine more and push back into her which just makes her chuckle. “Such a whore wanting daddy’s cock. Forgetting all of the people down below that can see just how much of a whore you are. I’ll show them who you belong to.”

You moan at her words as your knees almost buckle the feeling of your arousal dripping more down your legs. Agatha undoing her suit pants and shuffling them down as her strap springs free slapping onto your ass. Agatha looks down and sees how soaked you are and how you're dripping down your legs. “Fuck kitten your so wet and daddy has barely even touched you. You like the idea of someone seeing you like this.” She lines her cock up and slowly pushes in as she leans over you pressing her clothed front to your naked back. “I bet you want Wanda to see you like this a whore to be used.” She finishes her sentence with a quick and deep thrust fully sheathing herself in your warm and tight cunt. You moan out in pleasure and pain from the sudden stretch of your walls. You quickly slap your hand over your mouth to muffle any more that could come out, but Agatha has none of that. She pulls your hand back and pins both of them to the railing under hers. Her hips snapping into yours.

“I want them to hear you kitten. I want them to know your mine.” She leans into your neck and starts to leave dark red and purple marks along your neck and shoulder. Marking you as hers as she continues to drive her cock into you. Your moans grow louder as her thrust quickens. Your panicked eyes scanning the party below to see if anyone has noticed. Luckily the party is loud enough that they don’t hear your moans or the way your pussy makes wet noises as Agatha drives her cock deep into you.

With every thrust of Agatha’s hips your worry of being thrusted over the side grows. You grip the railing tightly as her thrust becomes more powerful. She leans up gripping your hips tightly. “Fuck your pussy is just sucking me in. You like that people can see you. See you as the whore that you really are.” Her fingers dig in and you know you will have bruises there later but you can’t be bothered by that right now. All your thoughts melt away as your pleasure grows and the knot in your lower stomach tightens.

“D-daddy.” You whimper the only words that can form in your head are of Agatha. She smirks above you and slaps your ass hard. Watching as ripples and turns into a light shade of pink. “Yes kitten. Tell me what you want.” She knows what you want but she wants you to say it. She wants you to ask her permission. But all that comes out of your mouth every time you open it is more whimpers and moans. She can feel the resistance when she thrust in as your pussy tightens around her cock.

Agatha’s eyes scanning over your body until they catch something very interesting. She grabs your jaw and forces your eyes to a particular spot and a particular person down below. When you spot who you gasp. Wanda is watching intently as your pussy is being destroyed. You want to be embarrassed but all it does it turns you on more. Wanda enjoying the show of you and your wife. More wetness leaking out of you as you hold eye contact with the woman.

The knot so close to snapping you are finally able to mutter out words. “Please! Fuck! Please Daddy!” You cry out. Your legs shaking as Agatha trails a hand under you and presses your clit. “Cum Kitten. I want you to show Wanda who fucks your slutty pussy just right.” You don’t wait a second scared she might pull out and leave you wanting more. Your mouth drops open as you silently moan. You catch one more sight of Wanda before your eyes roll back in your head and you let go. You juices squirting out of you and covering The lower part of Agatha’s shirt and the top part of her pants. Her thrust slows down as she rubs your clit helping you ride out your high.

As you come down you slouch a bit into the rail. Your eyes coming back into focus as you see Wanda still watching you and even from this distance you can see the hunger she has for you. Your panting heavy as Agatha pulls out gently makes you whimper. She pulls you up and turns you gently, taking you into her arms. “Fuck kitten that was hot.” She chuckles. “Maybe I should fuck you in front of people more if your going to make a mess like that.” Her words cause you to whine and hide your face in her neck. You hate to admit how much that turned you on and the fact you wouldn’t mind doing it again.

She kisses the top of your head before pulling back to look at you. You’re a mess. Your hair is sticking up and your makeup is smudged and running down your face. She smiles at you before bending down and pulling your dress back up and putting her strap back into her pants. “Lets go get cleaned up. Someone made a mess on Daddy.” Which makes you whine even more. “Sorry Daddy.” Agatha smiles leading you back inside. “Don’t be sorry baby I loved it so much.”

And you knew right then that even though this was the first time this happened it definitely won’t be the last time either. You can’t complain either when that was the best orgasm you have ever had. You're glad that Wanda flirted with you and you're glad that you didn’t stop it. If only you could somehow convince your wife to let her join at least once, but for now you will take her watching you.

#fic request #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha x fem reader #agatha x reader #agatha harkness #agatha harkness smut #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness x reader smut #agatha harkness x female reader

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inez-winchester-cameron · 3 months

Text

Exile

Rafe Cameron x pogue!reader, JJ Maybank x reader

Summary: Rafe and you have always had a toxic and rocky relationship, so it wasn’t a shock when you two separated. But you two just can’t seem to live without thinking of eachother

Cw: toxic relationships, quickly moving on, fighting, accusations, lots of angst

Note: based on exile by Taylor Swift obviously, fun fact I love Taylor shes so pookie

You stand on the HMS pogue, JJ’s arms wrapped tightly around you from behind. His head resting on your shoulder. You two stare out over the water, just enjoying each other's company. In perfect timing, you spy the Druthers approaching. Your heart stops, knowing that boat better than anyone else. As it passes, you make eye contact with Rafe. JJ is rambling, not making the connection, and not realizing you’re not truly paying attention. You half-heartedly laugh at a little joke he made, mostly to put on a show for Rafe.

Rafe frowns and sips on the glass of alcohol in his hand. He glares daggers at JJ, but when you make eye contact with him, his expression noticeably softens. His eyes fall back on JJ and you know that look anywhere. It’s the look he gives people when he wants to beat the fuck out of you. With time, the boat passes and the Druthers is gone, along with Rafe.

You and Rafe had broken up a week prior to this incident. You and Rafe had been together since freshman year of high school, up until the fall after graduation. You two always walked a very thin line, your relationship filled with many disagreements. But you two understood each other and made a home in each other. He loved you and you loved him, “no superficial bullshit” as Rafe always said. But you had given Rafe more chances than you can count to improve himself and although he was noticeably better around you, it was exhausting and after one particularly bad fight, you cut him off.

“You’re being ridiculous!” You yelled at Rafe, both of you still tipsy after a big party, “We did not do anything!”

“He was eyefucking you!” Rafe argued back, referring to you and JJ talking at the party earlier that night, “You’re just too damn stupid to notice!”

“Oh yeah, tell me how you really feel!”

“You’re a naive little bitch and I don’t know why the fuck I’m even here anymore! You’re probably fucking that Maybank bitch anyway!” Rafe shot back, backing you into a wall. and you froze.

Tears stung your eyes as you made your next move. You didn’t intend to but your hand raises and Rafe received a slap across his smug face.

“Did- did you just hit me?” He said, disbelief apparent in his voice. His eyes darken, obviously more pissed as he processes it.

“Fuck you, Rafe Cameron. I hate you. Don’t talk to me ever again and I mean that.”

“Y/n wait-” But you’re gone.

Your next encounter with Rafe occurs at the Boneyard during a party. You sit, tucked into JJ’s side on a log. You turn to him, kissing his cheek and ask, sweetly, “Do you want another drink, love?”

“Yeah, sure. Thanks babe.”

You smile in return and stand, going to get two more drinks. As you do so, a man takes notice of you. You start to get drinks for you and JJ as he speaks to you.

“Hey pretty lady, what’s your name?” He asks, and you internally sigh.

“Not interested,” you reply.

“Oh come on, you don’t even know-”

“She said she’s not interested.” A gruff voice comes from behind the man. The voice doesn’t belong to your boyfriend though, it belongs to none other than your protector, Rafe Cameron.

No longer than a minute later, the man is on the ground and Rafe is approaching you.

“You gotta be more careful, I-”

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” You speak up, getting pissed, remembering your prior fight.

“I was trying to help,” Rafe replies, his eyes darkening, “Don’t be a bitch.”

“I’m not your problem anymore!” You snap, “So who am I offending now?” Emotions run wild throughout the both of you, the intensity of the situation getting to you.

“You stepped out the side door! You didn’t even hear me out! You never gave a warning sign!” Rafe yells, your conversation getting a bit of attention from the people on the beach.

“I gave so many signs! I saw my opportunity to leave and took it, don’t give me metaphorical bullshit!”

You had given many signs, subtly pulling away from Rafe over the years, trusting him less and less.

“I can’t read your mind, I never learned to read your mind!” Rafe yells back, “I love you so much! You know that!”

“We’ve done this so many times, Rafe..” You mutter, your voice tired, “We’ve had this same fight a million times over in different words. I think I’ve seen this film before and I didn’t like the ending.”

“Please..just one more chance. Y/n please..I’m begging you. There is no amount of crying that I can do for you.”

“I love you, but you’re in exile, Rafe. Maybe in the future.” You simply reply and move past him, going to look for JJ.

You gave so many signs.

#obx #outerbanks #rafe cameron #rafe fic #rafe #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe obx #rafe imagine

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fillinforlater · 1 year

Text

When Life Gives You Bandmates, Make A Mess Out Of Them

Huh Yunjin x Nakamura Kazuha

Length: 2830 words

Tags: idol x idol, falling in love, getting the hots for someone, in heat but totally not gay, sweaty and scared, in denial, lesbian sex, teasing, fingering, dirty talk, turning-someone-gay kink, making out, passionate sex, squirting, rubbing on each other, pit licking, pit kink, taking control, totally_straight!Yunjin / confident!Kazuha

TW: disclaimer: it's just a fic with kinks--no, you can't turn people gay/straight with force, but you should know that

Inspiration: @friskyriskywhisky once send an ask a looooong time ago with "J-line getting all the girls" and this suddenly came up, so I made this.

(A/N: Hope you like this idol x idol piece with a fucking great ship tbh. L4 is still in the works)

"Hurry up, we're pressed for time."

The photographer slaps his thigh repeatedly, each smack transferring his stress to everyone around him. Kazuha quickly steps up, with her simple yet addictingly beautiful outfit and long strands of chocolate colored hair. Her bandmate however is still nowhere to be seen.

"Where is the other?" the photographer sighs and turns to one of the staff members. The woman shrugs and walks towards the dressing room, shouting one name over and over again.

"Yunjin! Yunjin, hurry up! We don't have all day!"

"I'm sorry!" Yunjin shouts in panic as she sprints out from underneath her stylists busy hands, through other staff members until she's right next to Kazuha.

"Ah perfect," the photographer says and picks up his large camera. "The behind the scenes team is also ready, so please get into position. Facing each other, hands on—you know the drill."

The two girls nod, it's not their first shooting session after all. Business as usual, one could say, nothing too special, too crazy—yet something is building up. You never know, until it's too late.

My heart is beating faster, Yunjin thinks and takes a deep breath. I should not have sprinted here.

"A bit closer please," the photographer gestures with his hands.

Kazuha takes a confident step forward, Yunjin hesitates.

That's a bit too close—wait, what is this? Why does she smell so good?

"Try to lock eyes, gaze a little," he shouts with anticipation.

Kazuha has her eyes already locked on target, when Yunjin slowly raises her head.

Wha—do-don't look at me like that!

For a fraction of a second, a smirk. Yunjin can barely keep her wrist on the younger's shoulder.

"Perfect."

Perfect indeed. Fuck, why is she so pretty?

Kazuha smirks.

No matter how fierce and cool her facade is, Yunjin can't hide it anymore. She averts her eyes, her head to the side and, as if her heart is directly connected to her lips, she cracks a wide, shy smile. Kazuha joins her and they both begin to giggle.

"Nice, nice, very good," the photographer praises and someone from the behind the scenes crew gives a thumbs up. "Great content, well done girls."

"Shall we go again?" Kazuha asks, her lips still formed in a cheerful smile, and Yunjin can't help but stare. If it were up to her—

Please, again, Zuha.

Wait, fuck, what am I even thinking?

"It was perfect, I think we got everything,” the photographer responds. “Time for your solo pictures."

Kazuha gives a thumbs up and tries to leave the set, but Yunjin is still frozen before her, eyes a bit teary, arms a bit shaky, her smile a bit wider than usual.

"Yunjin-unnie, would you please—"

"Ahhh, of course, Zuha," Yunjin jumps and flails before getting out of Kazuha's way. "Sorry, I'm a bit lost today."

"Nah, it's fine," Kazuha waves her Unnies' worries off. "It's kinda cute."

With a wink the younger girl disappears behind the dressing room door. Yunjin's face starts to burn. The rosy flush that was about to settle on her features turns to the red of fire and no fire truck can cool off her heart right now. Flames engulf it again and again, as if someone keeps pouring gasoline on it.

What's wrong with her today? No, what's wrong with me today? Just a photoshoot, and of course she is pretty, Chaewon is pretty too, Sakura too—no, that's not it.

But she smells so good, and her smile, those lips, the way she is confident yet acts shy at the same time—

Yunjin reaches for one of the water bottles and settles down, somewhere far away from the clicking of the cameras. No behind the scenes footage of her should exist right now, it's already a bit embarrassing that they captured her being somewhat unprofessional earlier.

Seriously, get your act together, She tells herself. What about it? Not that I haven’t seen pretty people before, not that I like girls that way. Probably just overworked, curse this comeback schedule.

A couple of minutes later, Kazuha steps out of the dressing room, a blanket wrapped around her body. It hides her new outfit and her great body. For some reason, Yunjin has to think of the latter first, but she tries to shake it off and takes another sip from her bottle.

“Ready for the final set of pictures?” the photographer asks as one of the stylists combs and curls the final strands of Kazuha’s immaculate hair.

“Yes, where should I put this blanket?”

“Just put it on the floor, we’ll focus on your upper body for now.”

Like the curtains to a theatrical masterpiece, the gray blanket rolls off of Kazuha’s shoulder to reveal something so marvelous, Yunjin almost spits out the water in her mouth, shit.

The japanese girl wears a large, open cardigan loosely hanging from one of her shoulders. Tight skinny jeans wrap around her hips, but thank God they do not hide her belly button and chiseled abs, the product of hard work and divine favoritism. What makes Yunjin gawk the most however is the exposed part of skin above Kazuha’s chest, a biteable collarbone, a lickable shoulder, fuck, I’d bite and lick my way up to her lips, oh my God, she is so fucking hot.

Her Dongsaeng begins to take poses and make expressions that strike Yunjin’s body with heat, from head to toes, but most importantly, around her heart and at her crotch. Her eyes linger on the skin as she fans air to herself, but every attempt at cooling her off is futile. Kazuha just goes on, face disinterested, hand placed to the side of her head—that’s just personal now.

Yunjin tries to turn around, rather looking at the white concrete wall instead of the flawless skin she'd love to place hickeys on—she already failed and continues to stare. She can feel a tiny trail of her own wetness run down her trembling thighs and her drooling mouth falls open slowly. Luckily, no one is paying attention to her right n—

The camera. Behind the scene footage of her at the worst possible time. There is no explaining the rosiness of her cheeks or the glassiness of her eyes. Yunjin turns away from the camera and then back to it.

"Ah," she groans and dramatically fans air to herself. "It's so hot today, I—I need some water."

Shit, that was so stupid, Yunjin thinks as she tries to laugh it off. To make it worse, the cameraman gets closer, confused at the joke and her expression. Yunjin makes a finger heart, then hides her face in embarrassment.

Oh my God, I'm such an idiot. The only thing hot here is Zuha, for fucks sake. Why am I tripping so hard?

Why is she making me trip so hard?

Yunjin twists in turns underneath her sheets. It’s too hot beneath them, but it’s impossible for her to fall asleep without it. Sweat builds up on her legs, cooling them; it’s completely different in between her legs. The liquid building up there just makes the heat worse, it makes her more desperate and pushes her into a frenzy.

I need her so bad. Zuha, you make me go crazy!

Yunjin opens her eyes. The surprisingly strong light of the moon shines through the open window, onto the bed beside her. In their dorm, Yunjin shares a room with the person she longs for—it feels more like a curse than a blessing as of now though. Kazuha’s toned back, partially covered by her sports bra, is turned to Yunjin, but it suffices to start the elders' fantasies.

Zuha, I-I want to feel her skin, the shoulders, the back, then the abs, God, those hard, perfect abs. I need to grab them, hng.

Fuck it.

“Zuha, are you still awake?” Yunjin whispers, her voice seconds before breaking, her fingers entangled in the hem of her shorts.

“Yes, Unnie,” Kazuha whispers back and turns around. She looks beautifully sleepy, eyes narrow, blanket pressed to her chest. Small beads of sweat on her temple show that she is somewhat hot as well. “You keep turning all the time, it’s pretty loud.”

“I-I’m sorry about that, bu-but—” Yunjin takes a deep breath.

“—it’s your fault, Zuha-yah.”

Yunjin climbs out of her bed and walks over to Kazuha’s. The Japanese girl looks at her confused and sits upright on the mattress. Yunjin can’t help but stare down at the perfect figure, the heaving chest, the thick thighs, I’m so sorry, Kazuha.

“I need you, Zuha.”

“Unnie? What’s wrong with you?”

“Please touch me.”

Yunjin pulls down her shorts to about her knees to reveal her shaven crotch drenched in slick arousal. She squirms and shivers when a tiny breeze comes through the wide open window, her eyes are unable to look at Kazuha, yet it is the only thing she wants to look at.

“Please, Zuha-yah, your fi-fingers, I—”

Yunjin’s voice is tiny, very weak. She is not sure Kazuha even hears the words, let alone understand what she means. It's a tense moment where fear and arousal reach a new peak for Yunjin, I can’t think of anything else—what have I done? This was stupid.

Suddenly, hands on Yunjin’s hips, a warm touch on both sides. When she re-opens her eyes, Kazuha’s face is on eye-level with her and so close. Lips could almost touch, and Yunjin breaths heavily through her nostrils as she becomes stiff. Kazuha looks unimpressed.

“I did not know you swing this way, Unnie,” she says and pulls Yunjin onto the bed, having her face close at all times. “I thought you liked guys.”

“W-well, I, uhm—ah!”

Yunjin moans long and deep when Kazuha’s palm suddenly cups her pussy. A long drag by the middle finger, from her entrance, over her lips and clit to her navel—Kazuha has her pinned to the bed with a single digit. The younger idol smiles for a second but then her unimpressed, somewhat annoyed expression returns and she blows air on Yunjin’s cheeks.

“Ts, you can’t even admit it. That is kinda sad.”

Kazuha’s hand roams Yunjin’s tummy, then moves up and over the mid-sized, covered breasts. Yunjin groans as her hard nipples get rubbed through the fabric, the jolt of stimulation sends her hips upwards. She is bucking them upwards, please Kazuha, touch me, use your hands, but instead, Kazuha put one hand beneath Yunjin’s head.

“Where do you want this?” Kazuha asks and drags her finger over Yunjin’s chest again while forcing her head to watch with the pillow-like hand.

“A-at my cro-crotch.”

“Aw, Unnie, that was nothing. Try again.”

“I-I want them in my p-pussy, plea-please.”

“Almost there, Unnie.”

“Please, Kazuha, finger my pussy!”

“Good girl, Yunjin.”

Kazuha wastes no time and quickly searches for Yunjin’s slit. Quick rubs over Yunjin’s clit makes the elders head go haywire, before Kazuha inserts two of her digits into the wet cavern. Yunjin moans loudly, her body instinctively trying to force the fingers to move in order to feel them craze her cunt. Kazuha pulls them out however and rolls her eyes.

“So greedy,” she says and makes Yunjin look at her awaiting cunt, fingers not inside anymore. “Greedy girls don’t get what they want, Yunjin.”

“Kazuha, please,” Yunjin whines and pouts her dry lips.

“Admit it,” Kazuha says sternly, ring finger circling Yunjin’s clit. “Or are you just a bit lost today, like earlier, during the shoot? Do you like guys, and hope that I am one of them? It’s just a phase, huh? Not real feelings, just something that you talked yourself into, right?”

“Hng.”

Yunjin groans, her face burning from desire and shame, a lot of uncertainty engulfing her, but at the same time, the answer, the right answer is so painfully obvious. Kazuha is so hot, hotter than any person ever, literally flawless, and her fingers are so close, ah!

“Say it, Yunjin.

“Say it.”

“Ka-Kazuha, you—

“—you made me gay!”

Kazuha smiles and slams her hand onto Yunjin’s pussy. The short burst of pain makes Yunjin gasp, but what leaves her truly speechless is the two fingers that start to pump and curl inside her heat. Kazuha pulls Yunjin’s hair, makes her look at how eagerly her cunt takes the digits. Yunjin can’t deal with it, her mind goes blank, her moans become feral. She screams repeatedly when Kazuha makes sure that her palm grinds vigorously on her clit

“Ruin this bed, Yunjin,” Kazuha groans, her voice becoming lower and more sultry. “Sweat on it, drool on it, cum on it. Spray your juice all over it and you’ll be a good gay girl.”

Kazuha! You’re so good at this, I want nothing more, only your touch, your fingers, your body! I’m so gay for you, ah!

“Kazuha, I-I’m so close—no, I’m cumming!”

Kazuha giggles and focuses on Yunjin’s clit more. No more words, just a booming scream that fills the entire dorm, even the street outside. Someone standing beneath the window, however high it may be up, surely knows what’s happening upstairs in the shared room. Someone launches their nectar out of her cunt in an orgasmic release while the other smiles and kisses her tenderly, continuously teasing the entrance to get a bit more squirt out.

Your fingers, your lips, Kazuha~

“You came so much, Yunjin,” Kazuha says happily, rosy cheeks and the biggest of smiles. Yunjin loses herself in the younger’s hazelnut eyes, her own full with tears of overstimulation. Suddenly, Kazuha starts to remove Yunjin’s bra, then undresses herself. Before Yunjin can react, they are both fully naked and Kazuha is on top of her, breasts, abs and pussies rubbing against each other.

“You have an amazing figure, Yunjin. Bigger breasts and a firm butt.”

Kazuha gently slaps the latter and watches Yunjin melt even more into the wet bed.

“Y-you too, Kazuha. I-I want to touch all of it.”

“Then do it, silly,” Kazuha chuckles. “Your arms have been stiff this entire time. Just feel me up—or do you like this more?”

Kazuha entangles her fingers with Yunjins and then pins both her hands above her head onto a pillow. Yunjin looks and feels even more open now, as her sweaty, smooth pits are exposed and her amazing figure is in perfect view now.

“Kazuha~”

“You like this, don’t you? My gay little girl wants me to touch her more, right?”

“Yes~”

With a big smirk, Kazuha starts to grind on Yunjin. Stiff nipples rub stiff nipples, a hard clit rubs another hard clit, curves and curves start to become one entity. Kazuha kisses all over Yunjin’s face, from ear to ear, over cheeks, chin or nose, until they engage in a passionate make out session, which urges Kazuha to grind her cunt faster on Yunjin’s.

“You like this, Yunjin?” Kazuha asks, lips still loosely connected to Yunjins. Drool runs from her mouth as she nods. Kazuha shifts the focus of her tongue further down and then suddenly to the right, orbs still locked with the heavily breathing, moaning girl below her.

“What about this?”

Gently, Kazuha starts to lick across Yunjin’s exposed pit, the salty sweat hitting her taste buds, but instead of making her back off, they urge her to lick faster. Yunjins mouth is agape, her hips begin to work in tandem with Kazuhas to give more stimulation to her dripping pussy.

“B-but it’s s-so sweaty,” Yunjin stutters, against the natural reaction of her body which is to succumb to Kazuha’s marvelous play on this sensitive spot.

“That’s why I like it so much,” Kazuha responds in a sexy hum and kisses, sucks even on the skin in the pit; everything to push the whimpering girl into another orgasm, which works faster than she would have imagined. A lot more quietly this time, Yunjin’s wets the bed and her legs in a fountain-like squirt while Kazuha makes out with her hairless armpit.

A little more than a minute later, the two of them lay in their own beds, dressed in new clothes, breaths still quick, but trying to sleep nonetheless. Yunjin faces the wall, in heaven and at the same time embarrassed. She tries to close her eyes, but they can’t stay closed yet. She turns to Kazuha’s bed and peeks right into Kazuha’s sleepy face.

“Sleep tight, Unnie. Try not to keep me awake this time.”

“S-sure, Zuha.”

Yunjin wobbles to the breakfast table. Kazuha and Chaewon are already sitting and eating their cereal, while Sakura is in the kitchen making coffee. Yunjin’s heart beats faster, but she tries to play it cool and just sits down next to Kazuha like she usually does. As she reaches for the cereal however, Chaewon slams her hands on the table and her face turns bright red.

“You-you are a screamer!” she shouts at Yunjin. “Control your voice next time, jeez!”

The room goes deadly silent, as if all the life had been snapped away.

“Huh?!”

(A/N2: Adding some Kazuha and Yunjin for beauty appreciation just because!)

#kpop smut #female idol smut #girl group smut #le sserafim yunjin smut #le sserafim smut #lesserafim smut #yunjin smut #kazuha smut #idol x idol smut #le sserafim kazuha smut

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m-jelly · 6 months

Note

Hello Jelly 💗 can I request dad Levi with their baby asking for a puppy because initially they wanted a sibling but both Levi and y/n was unable to give it right away so they adopt a dog and then unexpected happen, y/n is pregnant.

My English sucks because it is not my first language

@ladycheesington <3

A puppy and a baby

Levi x fem!reader

Modern AU, married, dad Levi, fluff, romance, pregnancy, being parents, getting a puppy.

Your daughter wants to be a big sister. Levi and you want another baby too, but it takes time. So, you get a cute puppy and all things are going perfectly. You get curious, take a test and find out you're pregnant as well.

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @notgoodforlife @demonsimp6 @nbinairyn

You smiled at Lilly as she sat on your lap with her book. You read it to her as she read along and learned new words. You did a funny voice making her squeal with laughter and clap her little hands. Your daughter brought so much joy to your and Levi's lives.

Lilly looked up as the door opened and closed. "Daddy!"

Levi chuckled. "Wait there! I have a gift!"

You knew very well Levi was taking his shoes off and then slipping his slippers on to keep his house clean. You hugged Lilly and felt excited to see your husband. "A fun gift, huh? It's exciting."

Levi walked into the living room with his jacket looking bigger than normal. "I think you're gonna like it." He zipped down a bit causing a dog to pop its head out. "Ta da!"

Lilly gasped. "Puppy!"

Levi put the puppy down on its paws. "You can name him anything you want."

"Cupcake!"

He let out a long sigh. "Cupcake?"

She giggled. "I joke!"

He knelt and hugged his daughter. "You little rascal. So, what do you want to call him?"

She slipped off your lap and petted the dog. "Mm...Hades!"

"Great name. I'll get a nametag for him."

She ran around with Hades and giggled. "Good boy!"

Levi sat next to you and sighed. "He's a cute dog, huh? Don't worry, I will train him and Mike will help too, seeing as he is a dog trainer."

You hugged his arm and kissed his cheek a few times. "Perfect. He'll be a very good boy." You smiled at Levi. "Speaking of good boys."

Levi smiled at you. "You know I love it when you call me that."

You kissed him and hummed against his lips. "I love you."

"I love you too."

You slapped his thigh making him buck. "Now, my handsome hubby, I need you to look after the two darlings so I can go pee tinkle."

He winked at you. "Sure. Hurry back, I wanna kiss and cuddle."

You got up and squealed when Levi slapped your ass. "Naughty."

"You know I am."

You hummed a laugh and made your way to your and Levi's private bathroom connected to your bedroom. Normally, you'd go to the one downstairs but there was something in this one that you needed. Inside this bathroom, there were a few pregnancy tests. Everyone wanted another Ackerman in this family, but you didn't know if it was going to happen so soon with the talks.

You took three tests and cleaned up. You weren't expecting a positive but you just wanted to give it a go. You collected the tests and shoved them in your pocket before making your way back to your husband and daughter. He made your heart flutter by taking sweetly with his little girl and teaching her about dogs.

"Cute."

Levi sat back and smiled. "Thank you." He eyed your pocket. "What you got?"

You handed him the three tests. "I thought I'd give them a go."

He hummed and looked at them. "Holy sugar! Honey? You're pregnant."

Your eyes widened. "What?"

He jumped up with a grin and showed you the tests. "Look! Three positives! We're having another baby!"

You squealed in delight as Levi scooped you up and spun around with you. "A baby!"

Lilly ran over. "Baby? Where?"

Levi put you down. "In mummy's tummy. You're going to be a big sister!"

"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!"

You giggled as Lilly ran around. "A puppy and two kids. What a wonderful family."

Levi kissed you. "It's perfect."

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paradox-the-unimpressed-nun · 18 days

Text

Yoriichi x F!reader Minors DNI 18+

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ REQUEST ARE OPEN

Summary: You and yoriichi have one main thing in common, you both want a family

Warning: breeding kink, creampie, fluff, vanilla sex, oral sex f!receiving , mentions of a stillborn, spit as lube. Not prof read⚠️

A/N: I just wanted to write a little smut for my dear lil sunshine boy, I'm sorry for the all the smut as of late I've been possessed.(>-•)╦̵̵̿╤─ (⊙⊙). I’ve edited some things from the og so if it’s different from the sneak peak thats why :4.

Yoriichi has never been the best at showing emotions, you’re very aware of this. Many are put off by his lack of expression.

You’ve learned that even though his face doesn’t show any emotion, that doesn’t mean he isn’t feeling anything. In truth he feels a lot, he’s an incredibly sweet and kind man.

The main point of your bounding between you and yoriichi is that you both desperately want a family.

You lost your family just like Yoriichi, of course you talked about other things but the topic of family always snuck it’s face into your conversations.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

You make your way towards Yoriichi with a tray of of food in your hands. Yoriichi is quietly sitting on your porch, he would have been mistaken for a statue if he didn’t shift his head into your direction.

“Forgive me for taking so long, I thought I had sweat tea but I ended up only having green tea” Yoriichi takes the plate from your hands as you sit down, he returns after your fully seated.

“It is fine, I like green tea” his voice bland a quick as usual. You hand him a cup, you carefully watch him take a sip. You’re worried you somehow managed to mess up the tea.

His face doesn’t change as he finishes his sip. “It’s good” again his voice is bland but you know he actually likes it. There’s a awkward silence between you to, your eyes wander trying to find something to make the mood better.

Your eyes fixate on the tea, picking up your own glass you scoot yourself closer to him. You smile at him “I-I heard that green tea is good for fertility” the smile quickly fades from your face as Yoriichi stares at you.

For once you have no idea what he’s thinking or feeling, he just stares directly into your eyes. Panic washes over you as you believe you’ve greatly upset him. Your face turns a beat red and you stumble out an apology.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it-like that!” You avert your gaze away from him being to embarrassed for the prior statement. Yoriichis gaze slightly softens and he opens his mouth “it’s fine, I know you mean well”.

Your gaze makes it back to his, your heart speaks before your mind. “I….I mean…I just thought..what if you got re married” immediately you mentally slap yourself.

In a conversation you had with yoriichi awhile back you brought up getting re married, you said you were open to the idea of getting re married while yoriichi shut down the thought of re marrying.

You’re already about to spill out another apology but yoriichi cuts you off. “If I got re married then this tea would be quite helpful, I appreciate the thought” he’s voice is different you don’t know how but it is, his voice sounds like a new song to you. Your eyes widen as he entertains the thought of getting re married.

You stare at him, and lean closer to him. Slowly you place your hand on Yoriichis cheek, your heart beat fastens. The world feels almost silent as the only thing your able to hear is the sound of your heart racing. Yoriichi doesn't move neither does his gaze, he carefully watches you.

Now you're inches from his face, you pause and stare into his eyes one last time. Next you connect your lips to his soft and warm ones. Your heart flutters as your lips connect, you feel so loved, beautiful and wanted.

Yoriichi shortly kisses you back wrapping his arms around you in the process. Sliding your arms around his neck you both deepen the kiss. As you both kiss Yoriichi gently moves you onto your back and makes his way on top of you. Yoriichi licks your lower lip asking permission to go inside. You let his tongue in as you wrap your legs around his hips. Both of your tongues dance with each other. You feel as if you're melting into him.

You both were so lost in the kiss neither of you realized your hips were grinding against each other. A bulge formed in Yoriichi pants, he subconsciously grinds his bulge harder into your clothed sex.

Yoriichi pulls away from the kiss -much to your dismay- thoughts race through your mind as you wonder what you did wrong in order to make him stop.

“I don’t want our first time together to be on the floor… Can we move to your room?” As he gets up he grabs your to help you up, he doesn’t let go after. “Yes….I think that would be much more romantic” you respond unsure as what to say.

Hand in hand you walk to your bedroom, you open the door for him and went in. You both sit down on the futon, his lips immediately find themselves back onto yours.

Yoriichi once again pulled away but this time he focused on your neck. He trails kisses upon your neck, gently sucking on your neck. There will defiantly be marks on your neck in the morning.

sneakily his hands find their way to your obi, he slowly unties it. Your obi slips off of you and soon does the rest of your kimono. Leaving you in nothing but your panties. In return you undress him, you’re slow wanting to take in all of his image. It seems you aren’t alone, yoriichi takes this opportunity to also admire your body. Feeling his gaze you instinctively cover your breast and stomach.

He stared at you a little dumbfounded, did he not like you stretch marks? Or was he disgusted with your extra pudge? Thoughts started to run through your mind, Yoriichi seemed to have taken noticed. Yoriichi pulls your hands away from your chest, bringing them to your side. While covering yourself you had left finger marks from squeezing to hard.

He makes his way lower down your body, he places kisses on the marks you left behind. You can hear your heart beat, you believe he can to. His hands sneakily makes it to your breast groping your chest. Taking one of your breast into his mouth and while his hand plays with your harden nipples. His tongue swirls around your buds, the other pinching your nipple.

A loud pop sound comes from him letting go of your chest, he looks up at you and squeezes your breast. “These need to be filled” Yoriichis words go straight to your clit making you somehow wetter than you already were.

Yoriichi lays you onto your back, in the process he grabs your legs. He taps two fingers on your thigh, asking for approval. Turing your head you slowly open your legs, your panties were dampen from your arousal . Shivers run up your spine as he place’s sweet kisses down your inner thigh. He makes sure to be slow, wanting to savor the moment. Finally he makes it to needy cunt. Yoriichi simply moves your panties to the side, he is to hungry to fully take them off. You could feel is hot breath against your clit, you instinctively bump your hips up.

He laps at your cunt, instinctively you close your legs. It’s been so long sense you’ve had someone go down on you, the feeling almost feels foreign. You didn’t even realize what you did until you feel yoriichis hand tap your thigh. Immediately you open your legs back up, your face is red as a tomato. “Sorry!!” You squeak out, turning your head to the side out of embarrassment. “It is fine…” is the only thing he said before closing his lips around your sensitive nub, sucking gently and promoting your eyes to flutter shut.

With one hand you grab his neat ponytail to push his him down further, the other grabbing the futon beneath you. Yoriichi fingers prod at your opening slithering into you. Instinctively you arch your back to get more stimulation. Yoriichi slides in another finger which earns him a sweet moan from your lips. A mixture of your fluids and yoriichis spit drips down his chin. Your once free hand moves to yoriichis ponytail “Yoriichi I’m close!” you moan in-between words. He doesn’t stop. Letting go of the futon you grab his ponytail and force his head down more, arching your back and hips in the process. Yoriichi laps at your clit and his fingers curl inside of you. Your vision goes white as you feel yoriichi lap at your sweet release. Your legs shake as you continue to hold yoriichi in place, panting form your high. It’s been a very long time sense you’ve had an orgasm this amazing. Yoriichi takes the initiative and pops his head up then pushes your hips down.

His gaze meets yours instinctively you turn away your arm covering your blushful face. You’re a little embarrassed that your juices are all over yoriichis mouth and chin. Yoriichi pulls your hips towards his, pulling you out of your thoughts. Somehow you feel hotter. He spits in his hand and rubs his very hard, leaking shaft. See his cock makes your mouth water, it’s just as beautiful as the rest of him. Big with a pretty pink tip, you wished he would’ve given you the time to suck him off, perhaps next time… yoriichi rubs his tip up against your entrance, rubbing it up against your soaking cunt. A grunt comes from him as your warm sticky juices cover his shaft. Anxiety erupts over you, hopefully he won’t find you “to loose”.

With a shaky breath Yoriichi speaks “I’m going to put it in now…” his face his flushed and his briefly look up at yours. All you can do is nod as you eagerly wait for him to finally put it in.

Finally he directs his tip to your entrance, slowly he slides in. Both of you moan at the feeling of one another’s body’s finally connecting. Yoriichi is big but you didn’t expect him to stretch you. He stops waiting for you to adjust to his size, he looks up waiting for your approval.

“Con-continue…please” your speech slow from you trying to calm your breathing. Yoriichi starts with slow thrust, trying to be gentle with you and find your sweet spots. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips, surely it will leave marks in the morning. Yoriichi earns a moan out of you as he brushes a certain spot inside of you.

“Right there! Right there!” You wrap your legs around his hips and hands hold onto his back. Keeping him there not wanting him to lose that spot. Yoriichi thrust more rough hitting that spot that made you see stars again. Heading your sweet moans made him pick up his pace his forehead onto yours.

You earn grunts and wines from yoriichi as you squeeze around him. Your cunt practically sucking him in deeper yearning for more. Each time he hits that spot he yearns a moan of his name from your sweet lips.

Yoriichi kisses your forehead lovingly, each kiss making your heart and cunt flutter. He moves kisses down your nose to your cheek then to your lips. Yoriichi sucks at your bottom lip making your mouth open, he takes this as an opportunity to sneak his tongue back into your mouth. In between kisses both of your moans can be heard. You feel like it’s your first time all over again, completely lost in the others body, sloppily kissing and humping. Yoriichis thrust turns into sloppy grinds wanting to get as deep as possible inside of you. Yoriichi breaks the kiss leaving a trail of saliva running down both of your chins. His eyes make it towards your chest seeing the stretch marks on your breast. Thoughts of you bearing hid children spread through his head, he knew he wanted a family with you but actually being in the moment? Having the opportunity to have the family he always wanted? It made his head spin.

Yoriichi pulls out completely leaving your poor cunt grasping onto nothing, a whine leaves you as the uncomfortable feeling of being empty flushed over you. What happened? What went wrong? Why did he pull out? You were about to ask why but was quickly stopped and yoriichi grabbed under your knee. He pushes your knees to your chest and lines himself back up to your cunt. Yoriichi quickly waste no time and bottoms you out, You scream and the absolute pleasure. He had put you into a mating press, somehow yoriichi feels deeper and bigger. His heavy balls slap against your dripping cunt. Both your juices and his precum slide down your ass onto the once cleaned Funton.

Your nails dig into his back leaving little red marks. You feel a familiar tightness building up in you. Yoriichi seems to be close as well, with that he picks up his pace.

You try desperately to tell him that you’re close but, you can’t seem to be able to forms the words to tell him. Drool drips down you mouth as your completely taken over by pleasure.

Jerking your head back onto the soft pillow that tightness that had been building up finally releases.

Yoriichi fucks you through your sweet organism, somehow going faster before finally stopping hitting his own orgasm. Thick white strings of cum line the walls of your sweet cunt, filling your womb to the brim.

Yoriichis warm cum seeps out of your pussy spilling onto the soiled sheets.

You both stay there for what feels like forever. Enjoying the feeling of one another’s bodies being against each other.

Looking up at yoriichis face he’s completely flushed, sweat drips down his forehead as he looks down at your also flustered self.

Yoriichi he looks at you like he’s just learned how to love all over again.

You don’t want him to stop and it doesn’t seem that he’s planning on stopping anytime soon. As he starts grinding his hips into yours once more.

You pull him down into a kiss, and of course returns the kiss. It’s sloppy and dirty as your tongues intertwined.

This seems to rile him up as he starts fully thrusting into your filled cunt once more.

God you hope the tea thing was true

🍓 I need to go to bed, my eyes hurt from lack of sleep ( ◜◡༎ຶ). Also sorry for all the smut my brain has just been 𓀐𓂸 all week. ALSO! Thank you for 300 followers ya'll are the best (ง ˃ ³ ˂)ว ⁼³₌₃⁼³

🍓edit: I have 700 followers now THANK YOU!!!

🍓UPDATE 2 800FOLLOWERS?!? YALL ARE INSANE

🍓 Update 3 i no longer like this, I’ll make a remake eventually, but I hope this short sweet fic makes y’all happy. I really pushed this off because I’m no longer happy with it. But I finished it. I wanna move on to other things. But expect more fanfic of him. Actually fuck it if enough people want a part two I’ll make a longer smuttier one. Sorry if you didn’t get tagged when u asked by notifications are all full. Also need more fanfic of this man I’m feral.

@ethereal1l @lovelymiraix @yoriichisc0msl4t2 @yoriichis-love @sush1trasher @aweebontheinternet2005 @xiernia @anemoneorc @lovelymiraix @ethereal1l @weebflames @azuriel-kinayoko @lovingyeet @krillfromsky @rjssierjrie @t0miejins @yuyuchann1 @genshinsimpforlif @hyunjinslefteyeball4 @puddingchoo

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #ds #Yoriichi #yoriichi tsugikuni #yoriichi x reader #yoriichi tsugikuni x reader #smut

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