#and the giggle at the end of that whole performance absolutely not
Text
Let Me Love You, Baby
Chapter 7 of That's What You Get
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Warnings: Oral (M and F receiving), nipple play, handcuffing, BDSM themes, dom! Spencer, sub! Reader, breeding kink, creampie, handcuffing, a variety of PinV sex positions, multiple orgasms, squirting mention, mentions of different types of orgasms involving penetrative sex and anal sex. 18+ MINORS DNI
Summary: Your memories of your wedding night come back. Not all of them, just the interesting ones.
A/N: If you're enjoying this series please PLEASE let me know in the comments! I've really been loving the theories about who the other witness is and I've changed my mind like three times on who it is eventually going to be BUT I've made up my mind now and I think it's going to be a great reveal lmao. This chapter has been on my mind since I started the series and I'm so happy you can all finally read it, but it is also A Lot of sex because every time I had a thought, I wrote it down and then didn't self-edit lmao.
You can find my masterlist here, the series masterlist in the link above, and if you enjoy my smut, think about checking out my kinktober masterlist or my AO3 account for daily spicy content next month! <3
You stumbled, drunk, into the room, not sure in the haze if it was yours or his. The card had passed between you in many hushed giggles through the hall as you eagerly pulled each other forward. Falling onto the bed, you let out a contented sigh as Spencer fell next to you, face first into the sheets with a small laugh.
“I can’t believe we did that!” You grinned, meeting his eyes as he turned his head towards you. “We’re married!”
“We are.” He smiles, and you can’t help but let your eyes fall to his lips, swollen and pink from your earlier enjoyment of one another. You start to laugh, not fully understanding why, but thinking it probably had a lot to do with the alcohol you’d consumed. Bringing a hand up to his face, you let a finger run over the corner of his mouth, wiping away a tiny splash of red you’d deposited earlier.
“Your lips are swollen.”
“Whose fault is that?” He leans in and catches your lips again in his and you squeal at the sudden contact, excited to feel him against you again. He’s soft and gentle at first, but as you gasp underneath him your breaths get shorter, stopping just shy of moans as you let your hands trail up and down his body. But the edge of the bed is uncomfortable, so you push him off, following his lips still as he pushes himself further up, straddling his waist as you let yourself melt into him.
“How did this happen again?” You ask, memory already feeling a little fuzzy, as you think back on the stressful few weeks you’ve had and how much better this feels. How nice it is to have someone underneath you, pressed against you, holding you.
“Is that important right now?” He asks, lips seeking yours again as you turn your head just as he tries to connect, giggling at his pout.
“You know, I always thought getting married would be this whole huge thing. Hundreds of guests, 18 months of stress while planning, you never really know on the day if the man you’re attempting to lock down is actually going to be on the other end of that aisle or if he’s bolted somewhere.” His lips are carving a path down your throat as you talk, memorizing the peaks and falls of every inch of your skin, committing you to memory like a prayer.
“A man would have to be absolutely stupid to leave you at the alter, Y/N.” He says those words that prick your heart so easily, worming his way in, without even breaking his lips away from their spot on your collarbone.
“Then if he didn’t leave, he’d be too drunk to perform on the wedding night, and so the entire day would end up just being a bust anyway.” He smiles into his final kiss, letting it linger against your skin as he pulls away and looks into your eyes.
“How drunk are you, Spencer?” Your voice falls to a hush as you shift your weight in his lap, opening your legs just a smidge wider, shifting forward so more of you is falling over his clothed member, pressing up against him as close as possible.
“You’re talking too much,” he growled out, and, grabbing you by the neck, pulled you into another heated kiss. This one isn’t giggles and soft sighs, it’s a clash of teeth and tongue and desperation, and you suddenly have the answer to your question as you feel him stiffen beneath you. Grinding down into him, you let him take control of your actions, letting him tell you when you can come up for air.
When he finally pulls away from you, you stay connected through a line of saliva stretching from your lolling tongue to his mouth. He breaks it with his thumb, forcing the digit into your mouth as you suck your shared mess from him.
“Definitely not too drunk.”
You couldn’t help yourself then, as you pulled his thumb from your mouth and shifted your body down the bed until your face was parallel to his crotch, beginning to palm him in his trousers.
“If we’re married,” you say, popping the button on his pants open. “We should probably get to know each other's… preferences early on. Stop any future arguments from occurring, right?” You looked up at him through hooded eyes, plastering the most sinful smile you could muster on your face. He stayed quiet, but you felt him twitch underneath your hand, and decided that was response enough.
“You can bite me and scratch me if you want. I like it. Pull my hair, spank me, choke me until I’m begging to cum. I like all of it. You’re in control now, Spencer. You can do whatever you want with me, so long as it ends with your cum down my throat or stuffed inside me.” Finishing your speech, confidence fueled by alcohol and the buzz of your wedding vows, you slip his cock from its cloth prison and take it directly into your mouth.
It’s thicker than you expected, and you just sit with the tip of it in your mouth for a second, trying to find a comfortable position. When you finally do, you push slowly down on it, letting your tongue tease and trace a path down. You don’t make it to the base before you’re pulling off, reaching what you expect to be your max about halfway down. You set a rhythm for yourself, hands pumping the rest of him as you coax the cum from him.
He gives you three minutes of fun before he decides that you need a little help reaching your full potential. Fisting a hand into your hair, and cradling the back of your neck in his other, he stills your motions before pushing you further down his cock, bypassing your gag reflex as your throat battles against the position he’s put you in, your nose tickled against his soft curls.
“Okay, let’s talk preferences. I’d prefer it if you ask permission before you touch something, whether that be me or yourself. I’d prefer if you used a safe word if this all gets a bit much for you. And I’d prefer you to relax that little throat of yours so I can fuck a load of my seed down it baby, okay?” He pulls you up by the hair and you nod, rasping out a yes as you gasp for air.
“Safeword is profile, tap twice if you need air.” And with that, he’s fucking your face again, pushing and pulling you by your hair as your mouth leaks spit. This was going to be a moment you’d never forget, the taste of his precum at the back of your throat, burning its way down.
Shrugging off his pants completely, he keeps at his movements, your head still working over him like you’re simply a fleshlight for his personal use. He grunts and twitches into you, signaling his impending release, and you try to ready yourself for the sting of the liquid hitting the back of your throat. He cums hot and fast, and you swallow around him, but there’s so much, it spills out of your mouth quickly, dripping down your chin and neck.
“Good girl. You listen to instructions well.” He pulls you up to his lap again as he begins undressing you, not bothering to wipe his cum from your mouth.
In a matter of seconds, he has you completely bare for him. Pulling your legs further up, he lets your torso fall back into the bed before shimmying himself down, coming face-to-face with your core.
“You remember the rules?” He asks, and you nod, answering his question.
“No touching, safe word is profile. Is that it?”
“One more thing. You’re not allowed to cum until I say so, okay?” You let out a moan of discontent then, but he shuts you up with a light slap to your face, coming up to press a kiss to your lips before traveling south again.
“Relax for me, baby,” he says as he spreads your legs and stretches out his tongue to finally come in contact with your needy core. His tongue is skilled, and you almost immediately break one of his rules as you arch off the bed, trying your best not to suffocate him between your thighs as you search for ways to heighten this pleasure.
He wastes no time being gentle, just fully eating you out like it was his job to make you cum on his face. His tongue stretched from your clit to your hole, flattening out and writhing in equal amounts as your pleasure built to a frenzy. Your hands gripped into the sheets and you clung to the single thought that maybe a punishment from your new husband wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.
Your hands drift to his hair, gripping tightly as you begin bucking into his mouth, completely lost in your base desires. He quickly grips your hands and pins them to the bed again though, pulling away just before you even think about climaxing against his face.
“Spencer,” you beg, your moans sounding like the sobs of a spoiled child.
“You broke a rule, princess. I can’t just let you get away with that.” You moan at the loss of contact, your voice whinier than you'd ever heard it.
He left the bed entirely then, and you lifted your head up to follow his path to the drawers by the side of the bed. Opening it, he picked up the wedding license you'd discarded on the floor, placing it nearly inside and slowly pulling out a pair of handcuffs. Your standard FBI set, not something light, flimsy, and cushioned with fluff, these were hard and cold against your skin as he returned to the bed.
"Wait, S-Spencer…. Really?" You panicked as he pulled one arm over your head placing it parallel with the headboard, trapped between the slats. He tightened the cuff around your hand, leaving one free as he started kissing down your arm, down to your shoulder and into the hollow of your neck.
"Yes, really. Now since you want to use that other hand so badly, why don't you use it to get yourself off." You swallowed the spit in your mouth, and nodded at him, before doing just as he asked, picking up where his hands had gotten off.
He shifted to sitting just by your side, lifting your body half on top of him, your back pressed up against his chest as he watched over your shoulder as your hand-worked you into a frenzy. Bringing both of his hands around your body, he started playing with your nipples, rolling them between his fingers, pulling and fondling your breasts as your breathing became more labored.
"There are seven different female orgasms, you know. The clitoral orgasm, the G-spot orgasm, the blended orgasm, the anal orgasm, the A-spot orgasm, a purely psychological orgasm, and," he leaned down closer to your ear to finish his sentence. "The nipple orgasm." You struggled against the handcuff as you felt the tightness build in your chest, but he grabbed and held your other hand close to him as he pushed up on top of you again.
"How many do you think you'll get tonight, Y/N?" He asked, lowering his head back to your chest as you bucked your hips wildly, trying to feel him in between your legs.
He pushed down your hips and kept his attention on your chest, your brain going fuzzy with the contact as the orgasm that had been imminent kept growing until you couldn't stop it from rushing over you, chumming with his attention solely on your chest.
"You didn't answer my question?" He brought his head up, frowning slightly as you blinked your eyes open and focused on his shape above you.
"Did you read some kind of sex book, Spencer? Jesus Christ that was…" You couldn't say anything else and he chuckled from above you.
"I didn't read one, I've read multiple, and it's less reading and more committing to absolute memory." He swooped back down to your lips. "Answer the question, how many do you think you'll get tonight?"
"Two?" You ask vaguely, immediately opening your mouth back up to keep rambling. "But Spencer I've never really had more than one with another person and I'm not sure if I even can-"
"You can. You will. You promised to listen to me, remember?" You flushed at his words, choosing simply to just nod for him instead of trusting your tongue to spit out the right words.
"Good girl," he says, wrapping your legs around him, and running his cock through your folds, holding it there as he teased you.
"I don't have to use a condom, right? You want me to drop my load directly into you, right? We're married now, so I can just fuck my seed into you, hmm?" You moaned out, begging for him to just push into you, to keep his promises and pleasure you again and again.
"Hands in the sheets baby, come on, no touching remember?" You did as you were told, and with another kiss to your lips, tongues locking in your battle, he thrust his entire length into you in one movement.
A scream of pleasure ripped out of you, just as quick and fast as you were sure you ripped the sheets of the bed, your sharp nails digging in for dear life as you struggled against the desire to hold him against you.
"That's it, princess. That's it." He starts thrusting, snapping his hips up, and slowly pulling himself out again. For a moment, it was like you weren't breathing at all, his body feeding you everything you needed to sustain yourself. Lungs burning, you gulped in large breaths of him. His tongue swallowed each and every complaint, as he shared in your pleasure.
He wasn't afraid to be vocal, like some men you'd been with in the past, and the sounds of his pleasure echoed out louder than your own. He was moaning in your ear, telling you how beautiful you looked on him as he pounded into you relentlessly. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he slapped into you again and again.
His hand came up to your face as he grew closer to his climax, pushing his fingers back into your mouth as he turned your face further against the pillow. Your spit dribbled out of your mouth as you moaned around his fingers, pussy clenching on his dick as you felt your embarrassment rise.
"So pretty and messy," he mumbled, hips keeping his pace up.
"Did you make sure to swallow all of my cum earlier baby? Because if there was any of it left on my cock, I'm fucking it into you. Going to drop another load next to it so you can feel me knock you up."
Unlike your first orgasm, you don't feel this one coming, you just know that he's hitting a spot so deep that it's never been reached before and saying the exact words that are pulling it closer to you, and then you're ecstasy has you squirting around his dick.
"That's right. There you go, baby, lay nice and calm there, I need to keep going."
You were overstimulated, already feeling your desire burn a path through you again. He pulled out though, but made it clear that his intention was just to switch the positions of your bodies.
Making sure not to twist your locked-up arm uncomfortably, he laid on the bed and pulled your fucked out body on top of him. You shivered at his touch and he pulled you further into his embrace warming you up.
Your chest was pressed against his back, your head rolled back on his shoulder as he gently coaxed your legs apart one more time.
"That's it, baby, you're listening so well. Just push your legs apart for me, okay?" You did as he asked, and he pressed your legs further up and apart, grabbing into the flesh of your thighs as he aligned his dick with your aching pussy and pressed into you one more time.
The new angle had you moaning around you, as he encouraged you to start lifting your hips up and down, as he trusted up into you, your eyes rolling back into your head as he hit an electric point inside of you. He grabbed your hand to steady you as you moved to a seated position, letting your heels dig into the bed as you began riding him.
You were so tired that it didn't last long though, your hips stuttering awkwardly.
"It's okay, Y/N, I'll do the rest, you just stay right there." From his place underneath you, he kept your thighs from above him as he thrust into you just as quickly as before, somehow maintaining his stamina despite the edging, the alcohol, and the energy you'd already exerted.
Just as you were really about to lose your mind, he pulled out again, escaping from beneath you and gently laying you back on the bed.
"One more position, princess, and then we can rest. You've been so good for me, you can do this, right? Can let me drop all of my cum inside you?" You nodded another sleepy yes, eyes somewhere between closed and open. There was no strength left in your body to stiffen up as he began moving your now malleable body into position, but that doesn't mean you didn't let out a moan at the way he'd stretched you out.
Pushing your legs apart again, he's settled between them, but instead of letting them wrap around him, he'd kept hold of them, pushing your knees up still until they were on either side of your chest. He kissed away complaints and approvals that didn't come and slowly pushed into you again.
He was evidently close, by the way he was drawing this out now. His fingers found your clit as his cock slowly worked in and out of you, the snap of his hips completely controlled and even in tempo.
"Just keep doing that, Spence, oh my god," you begged, words suddenly returning to you. His fingers on your clit increased in pressure, but his pace otherwise didn't change, and you soon felt that third orgasm ripple through you, finally leaving you with no more to give.
Your last fall from grace had him following you swiftly after, his lips finding yours as he crashed back down on top of you, hips stuttering as he drank you in like wine.
The rest was a blur, really, sleep having claimed you so swiftly that you barely remember the words he had definitely whispered to you as soon as he caught his breath again.
"I love you. It's always been you."
Other than a vague recollection of him rearranging your legs so you wouldn't struggle to walk the next day, and the sensation of a cold, damp cloth on your skin, nothing besides remained.
–X–
It's unfortunate, really, that the memory came to you when you did, his lips on yours heating you up in a way that made you absolutely want to relive every experience he had given you. But paralyzed with shock, you'd had only one recon to choose a reaction, and out of fight, flight, fawn, or freeze, you'd gone for slam the door in his fucking face.
Not your finest moment.
Which is why after two minutes of listening to his confusion on the other side of the hall, your brain kicked back into gear and you started weighing your options.
It would be wrong to open the apartment doors and pull him back in, right? It would certainly be wrong to pull him in and demand a re-do of the first time you'd forgotten. Would he even want to redo doing it with you? And what did he mean when he said "I love you."
It was those words more specifically that scared you. You'd both been absolutely intoxicated when you'd fallen into the wedding chapel together and still remarkably unstable afterward presumably. There was a high likelihood that he hadn't known what he was saying, and taking a risk on a friendship for half a memory and wishful thinking wasn't a great calculation.
But gripping the door handle, you realized your body had made the decision for you, completely overwhelmed by the need to see him again.
When you opened the door, no one was there. Your phone pinged with a text as you looked around disappointedly, not finding him anywhere. Looking down at your phone, you cursed your own stupidity as you read his message.
"Sorry. I won't do that again."
You typed out explanations and deleted them over and over for what seemed like an hour, guilt eating you up.
Eventually, you threw your phone down in resignation, and, grabbing your groceries, started frantically planning your next steps.
Step one: wallow in your own misery.
Step two: crack open the single bottle of red wine in your pantry.
Step three: beg for heavenly guidance.
After the wine was opened, you picked up the phone again and shot off a quick emergency message to Penelope.
"Pen, need help, may have just ruined EVERYTHING with Reid because I remembered our wedding night mid-kiss - long story. Mine, now? Xx"
You couldn't stand to look at your phone after that, putting it on silent and assuming the single time it flashed was confirmation that Penelope was on her way. After half an hour, you sprang from your seat at the sound of the door, making your way back to the scene of your most recent number one embarrassing memory.
Only opening the door to Emily Prentiss, you were sure you'd just dethroned yourself.
"You're going to have to start from the beginning or explain to me that that message had multiple typing errors, because just when did you and Reid get married, and why is it suddenly over now?"
--X--
🏷️ Pt 1 @w-windy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @daddy-dotcom @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @ferrjulie @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @ghostheartbeat @casss2111 @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk @andiebeaword @r-3dlips @wakaladjarin @ratbastardchild @mcira
@danika1994 @stargurl99 @whovianwholikesgirls @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @doriantomybasil
#spencer reid#criminal minds#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid smut#mgg#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid x reader smut#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds smut#maturereiding
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Sana spotting reader in the crowd at the concert and keeps looking at her the whole show, then tells her manger to bring you backstage after the show and she ends up taking you back to her hotel room…smut of course. Thank you!
tags : belittling, humiliation, spanking (or just plain degradation if you’d like), sana has a strap, smut with plot!
content warning : smut! that’s..it lol
pairing : fan!femreader x sana minatozaki
word count : 2k
a/n : thank you so much for requesting, sana’s my bias so i had a super fun time writing this!!<3 also I’M SO SORRY FOR KEEPING YOU WAITING!! i hope the wait is worth it!
there you were, standing in line for the twice tour concert happening in your city, you would’ve came with a friend, but nobody in your circle really likes kpop the way you do.
plus, you didn’t want anyone you knew to see you fangirling over a girl group who doesn’t even know you exist which would get significantly worse when sana comes on stage.
you brought your twice lightstick and a silly little sign that reads “sana please kiss me i need you badly”, this was a one in a lifetime opportunity, you needed to confess your undying love to your soulmate if given the chance! listening to your own thoughts playback in your mind, you giggled at your delusions. god, you’re hilarious.
before you knew it, the line progressed and you were finally sat for the concert. fanchants ready to be yelled out, lightstick set up. oh you were so ready. plus, you got front seats too, so you were even more hyped.
then, they appeared. suddenly, everybody just lost their shit you included and started screaming for their bias. song after song, dancebreak after dancebreak, the crowd was going absolutely wild. while yes, you were enjoying the performance as a whole, but you just couldn’t stop staring at your favorite member. and surprisingly, she stared back most of the time! smiling at you and winking as she sang, just basically fueling all of your delusions. the rush of it all gave you the confidence you needed to do this.
you waited until she looked at you again and just held the sign up, you didn’t give a single fuck about the people behind you, they didn’t matter! you needed to make sana remember you by something, even if it was lowkey embarrassing!
she took a few moments to read it, squinting her eyes, then.. giggled??
oh she wants you badly!! is what you told yourself because you and facing reality are not a good match! she took the sign from your hands and showed it off to the other members, earning a bunch of laughs and giggles from them, followed by some talking.
oh nevermind, she’s most likely making fun of you.
embarrassed, you started looking around, pretending you didn’t know what was going on as if everyone didn’t just see that she grabbed the sign from you. but then, you spotted her writing something on it with a sharpie. intrigued, you watched her as she finished up writing. she jogged over to you and handed you back your sign as she winked at you. you smiled nervously and muttered a confused ‘thank you’ before your eyes darted at the writing.
your eyes widened, both in confusion and very pleasant surprise.
‘stay here after the concert, a manager will come get you ;)’
oh my god.
-
the final song finished and everybody cheered loudly for the last time. you had a great time, but you just couldn’t stop looking at your sign, reminiscing about what she was planning. was she trying to get you arrested? why would she wink though.. maybe she winked just so you would stay and THEN she’d get you arrested???
your mind ran wild as you quickly reached for the exit of the arena, trying not to get caught by whoever was out to get you, but before you could, you felt a hand on your shoulder.
fuck.
“excuse me, ms. minatozaki is requesting to see you, i believe.”
trying not to hide your defeat and fear of what could possibly happen, you nodded. “yup. lead the way!” you said, over enthusiastically. he motioned for you to follow him and he took you backstage, where, surprisingly, no other members were present. just her. you unintentionally gulp as the staff leaves you two alone.
god she’s literally staring you down. you would’ve been excited about being so close to her in person but the situation right now was kinda preventing that, you fidgeted with your hands. right as she was about to speak,
“are you gonna get me arrested? look, it was a silly little joke i had no intentions of making you uncomfortable and i’m honestly really sorry if i di-“
“relax, baby” she interrupted, “i found it endearing. i mean, it’s not like you’re a creepy old man, are you?” she slightly tilted her head as she asked the question.
you hesitantly shook your head. wait, did she just call you baby?? you felt that you could just die right then and there.
“so, why are you panicking? if i was trying to get you arrested, i wouldn’t be smiling and winking at you all show, would i now, cutie?”
your jaw slightly dropped at the amount of pet names that she just kept casually throwing around. does she not know what that can do to someone who’s like. infatuated with her??
“no, you wouldn’t, i don’t think.” you stuttered out. she giggled at you, eyeing you down, her gaze ending up on every single part of your body.
“are you free tonight?” she asked you, an innocent smile plastered on her face.
-
quite frankly, you were originally planning to go home right after concert, lay on your bed and watch tiktoks for like 5 hours straight but… let’s just say making out with the sana minatozaki on her hotel room’s bed was significantly better than that.
she unfortunately pulled away from you and looked into your eyes as she slightly panted, “what are you into, baby?” she asked you.
not knowing what to respond, you looked around nervously, still not over the fact that you’re about to fuck an idol?? your favorite one, at that. was this even allowed???
“uhm.” you finally responded, “i don’t know.. girls?” you awkwardly chuckled.
fuck, maybe being funny wasn’t the best approach, she looked like she was genuinely asking. you could tell from the drop of her expression that she was getting impatient, she subtly sighed, almost pulling away from you.
which…. you always found it kind of sexy when she got frustrated at her other members, or something of the sorts.
biting back a shy smile, you kept staring at her. then, as if something in her mind clicked, something in her eyes sparkled and she smirked.
“oh… i see where this is going.” she playfully smirked, getting closer to you again as if she could feel your face growing hotter by the second. “you’re into people treating you like garbage, aren’t you?”
you hesitated, but you ended up silently nodding. was she psychic??
“oh how cute. so if i were to fuck you roughly as i called you names, you’d like that, hm?”
you froze, then turned your head to look at anything that wasn’t her face. god that sounded so hot.
“answer, you bitch.” she grabbed you by the jaw and made you look at her, her eyes piercing through you. you swore that you could’ve came right then and there, but you obviously had and wanted to keep this going.
“y-yes sana, i’d like that. alot.” you squirmed under her, her eyes still not leaving yours. she scoffed.
“i knew you were a complete slut as soon as i saw you.” she kissed your neck, earning a relieved sigh from you as she unbuttons your shirt. “also,” she added,
“it’s ms. sana, got it?”
-
next thing you knew, she was violently dicking you down from behind with her strap. wait, why did she even bring it along with her on tour? whatever, that didn’t even matter right now, what mattered was that your twice bias was literally inside you and that you felt like you could squirt just from that. an exaggeration, but she was just that good at fucking you.
“fuckfuckfuck sana right there..” you moaned out, throwing your head down on the pillow before you stammered nervously, “i-i mean, ms. sana!”
in response, “aren’t you a cute thing. this is the fourth time you’ve made that mistake. does it feel that good?” you heard her giggle. okay, she didn’t sound mad, but you still needed to be careful next ti-
before you could even finish that thought, though, you felt her hand smack one of your cheeks with full force, making you flinch and unintentionally whimper at the impact. fuck, that hurt.
“apologize.” she coldly ordered you, her pace getting faster by the second, causing you to lose your breath. recollecting your thoughts, you let out a nervous “i’m s-sorry ms. sana fuck i’m sorry..”
“god.. look at you. ass up for a girl you barely even fucking know.” she hummed, clearly amused by all of this, amused by how easily you gave in. she gently scratched and pet your head as she would a dog, still roughly pounding you from the back. “are you stupid or just a horny bitch?” she mockingly giggles.
“that’s just what you are, isn’t it? a little bitch in heat. hm?”
if her purpose was to fill you with shame, then it was very much working. you felt humiliated. when you really thought about it like that, you are literally letting a stranger fuck you. not only that, but you went to her hotel room. maybe she was right, maybe you are just a whore.
“come on baby, say it. admit how much of a slut you are.” she pulled on your hair, forcing you to hold yourself up. you whimpered and moaned loudly at the sensations, trying your hardest to form a correct sentence, “yes ms. sana i’m a s-slut! fuckfuck i’m a slut for you p-pleaseee fuck me harder..”
your dignity and self-respect now long gone, your only priority was cumming. she probably caught onto that quickly, though, since she immediately started changing her pace, going at a much slower speed, much to your despair. you whined. “such a good bitch for mommy. are you getting close?” she asked.
mommy?? oh this woman wanted you dead. her words and the noises coming out of her contributing in making it harder for you to keep your composure. god you were a mess, being undone like this, being used like this, being at someone’s mercy, sana’s mercy. it turned you on so much.
moaning out consecutive mhms in response to sana’s question, she hummed, grabbing your waist. then, unexpectedly, she rams into you, her strap fucking in and out of you, covered in your slick. “then we’ll cum together, okay?” she orders, panting. you eagerly nod, head pressed into the pillow.
you feel your orgasm building up, your noises getting higher and louder. she quickly started shamelessly moaning louder too, good girls and just like thats escaping her mouth.
it didn’t take long before her breathing stopped for a moment, pulling on your hair with such a force. she moaned out your name, and that’s when your own mind blanked. that feeling in your lower stomach was now replaced with complete euphoria, and it was amplified by the fact that you knew it was caused by sana. you didn’t care about how loud you were being, you didn’t care about the people next door, you wanted them to know who was making you feel this good.
as you both came down from your high, you felt her pull out. it took you some time to actually sit up, but your legs weren’t exactly in the best state right now.
“do you do this to every fan you meet?” you ask her, laying down on your side, sounding kinda muffled due to your head still being in the pillow.
“hm, no. i’ve never done this before. i guess it was something about you.” she said, smiling as she was tying her hair and then eventually taking the strap off of her, setting it down on the nightstand.
then, you remembered your so called delusions. maybe they weren’t entirely delusions after all!
-
you took your bag, all dressed up and ready to leave the hotel room, she on the other hand, stayed naked, because that’s apparently how she sleeps. you say your goodbyes very obviously eyeing her bare body and head to leave, but she stops you.
“here’s my number, i’ll text you and eventually let you know when we come back here.” she winks at you, then sends you on your way.
well! getting dicked down by sana minatozaki wasn’t exactly on your bucket list this year, but it was certainly very welcomed, considering you went back home giggling to yourself and did your own thing when you arrived home, still thinking about all of it..
from now on, you could never allow yourself to miss the upcoming tours.
#sana minatozaki#twice smut#kpop smut#kpop gg#female reader#smut#sana x reader#sana x female reader#sana minatozaki x female reader#twice sana#twice
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Consequences of Being a Brat
Eddie Munson Fic Incoming!
NSFW 18+, Minors DNI! Okay so this one is… whoo. A lot more intense than my previous fics. I know I said my next fic would be with Clarke Griffin from The 100 but I got smacked in the face with inspiration for this so, here you go. This fic is purely self indulgent and I pretty much made it just for my own desire BUT I am sure all you dom!Eddie lovers out there will enjoy it too. I honestly have no clue if The Magic Wand existed in the 80’s but for the sake of this fic, it absolutely did. The ending is super fluffy so please stick around for it too! Please like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed this, it would mean the whole entire world to me!
Word Count: 9,016
Warnings:NSFW 18+, Angst (very slight), Smut, Fluff, AFAB Reader, Aftercare, BratTamer!Eddie, Brat!Reader, Breath Play (one time near the end), Bondage, Biting, Potential CNC? (honestly I’m not sure if it is or not. Reader doesn’t want to accept punishment but it’s all a part of their brat/tamer dynamic and consensual, but as always, read at your own risk), Choking, Crying During Aftercare, Dom!Eddie, Degradation, Dacryphilia, Eventual Submission, Extreme Sensitivity, Face Slapping (Only a couple of times and it is not extreme), Forced Orgasms, Fingering, Humiliation, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Oral Sex (f and m receiving), Orgasm Control and Denial, Punishment, P-in-V (unprotected, wrap it up irl folks), Rough Sex, Sub!Reader, Spanking, Swearing, Squirting, Subspace (mentions of, it’s not super deep), Vibrators
Idk I feel like I overdo it with warnings sometimes but I want you to be able to read at your own risk and avoid your own triggers, I do not want my writing to cause harm! Only horniness and happy feelings! Anywho, here is my newest fic and I really hope you all love it!
Consequences of Being a Brat
The stage lights focused, the crowd hushed, and the electric hum of anticipation filled the air. Eddie Munson, with his shaggy brown hair cascading over his shoulders, stood center stage. His fingers started strumming his electric guitar as Corroded Coffin launched into their first song. In the sea of people, Eddie scanned the crowd, looking for one face in particular–yours. You never missed a single concert, and tonight shouldn’t have been any different. But tonight, no matter how hard he searched, you were nowhere to be found.
Where the hell is she? He thought to himself. As the concert reached its crescendo, Eddie’s mind wandered, his performance slightly faltering. Once the last note echoed through the quarry, Eddie rushed offstage. His heart pounded with a mix of post-performance adrenaline and concern for where you could be.
Back at home, I was absolutely fine. My coworker at the bakery asked me to pick up their shift, so I was working overtime and honestly forgot about the concert tonight. I was laying on the couch, lounging in Eddie’s Hellfire club shirt and black cotton panties while watching some cheesy horror flick. I was just about to get up from the couch to call in for a pizza delivery, when Eddie crashed through the door.
He looks absolutely frantic, making me feel instantly guilty. I totally forgot to tell him that I wouldn’t be able to make the concert tonight. Fuck. “Eddie, I’m so sorry! I had to cover Emily’s shift tonight and I completely forgot to let you know I wasn’t going to make it. I feel terrible.” I stand up to give him a hug, he looks like he needs it.
Eddie’s frustration softens, but is still very present. “You just forgot to tell me? I was worried sick, baby. I thought you were hurt.” He hugs me back tightly, before sighing and letting me go.
“I know, I know, Eddie. I’m sorry,” I say, stepping back as he runs a hand through his hair in exasperation. One of the rings on his fingers gets stuck in his hair and as he is figuring out how to get it un-stuck, I can’t help but giggle.
His head immediately snaps to look at me, questioning, “What’s so funny?”
I try not to, but I can’t hold back another giggle. “I can’t help it, you looked so worried.. It was kind of cute.” I know this conversation will get me nowhere but trouble, but my heart feels so inflated with how much he cares about me, I don’t even care right now.
His eyes close for a moment as he processes what just came out of my mouth, his tongue jutting into the side of his cheek. When he opens his eyes again, they seem much darker than they were before and I knew that my words had started something. His tone itself could cut through ice. “Excuse me? Would you like to repeat that? I’m just not sure that’s what you were really trying to say, sweetheart.”
His words shoot a shiver through my body and directly down to my core. He doesn’t call me that unless I’m really starting to push my limits. It’s a fucked up nickname because it’s way too gentle for whatever he’s planning to do to me.
For some stupid reason, the desire to provoke him becomes unbearable. “That is actually exactly what I was trying to say. You were so worried about me that you ran home and almost tore the front door off its hinges. It was absolutely adorable.” I put extra emphasis on the last word, a smirk playing on my lips.
His eyebrow raises at me as his arms cross over his chest, his fingers tapping his arm in an attempt to control his desire to put me over his knee right that second. “Oh yeah? Wanna make that hole you’re in a little deeper?” He takes a step closer to me until it feels like he’s towering over me, his face only inches from mine, and whispers, “Go on, say something else. I dare you.”
Those fucking words. Maybe on any other day, I would have just apologized and took a spanking or two. But daring me? Oh boy, today was not the day. I just got done with two fucking shifts at work in a row and okay, yeah, I can see why you’d be worried about me and now you’re mad that I’m mouthing off, but seriously? Fuck you, Eddie! I thought to myself.
Surprise registers on his face as his mouth opens slightly, eyes widening. Oh god. Did I just say that out loud? I look up at him and laugh nervously. “Is it too late already to say I’m sorry?” My voice is much more quiet than I mean it to be, but it’s too difficult to speak up when his eyes are on fire and it’s directed right at me.
He just stares at me, his eyes going from that teddy-bear brown to straight up black. He starts unbuckling his belt, pulling it from the loops slowly. My mouth dries out and for a moment, I’m frozen in place before the realization of what he’s about to do hits and I fucking bolt towards the bathroom so I can lock myself in there for a while until he calms down.
His hand quickly reaches out and grabs me by the wrist before flipping me around to face him. He grabs my chin and forces me to look up at him while his other hand continues pulling his belt from the loops at an agonizing pace. “And just where do you think you’re going? You really think you get to say that shit to me and then run off to avoid my belt? Really?” He can’t help but laugh at my escape attempt, but his laugh sounds empty.
I try to pull my face away from his grip, but it’s impossible. My nerves turn into anger and I suddenly swat his hand away from my face, my voice raising to a yell. “You can’t get me in trouble for this! I was just messing around, Eddie, can’t you take a fucking joke?”
The growl that escapes his lips is feral. He grabs me by the back of the neck and pushes me forward, forcing me down the hallway towards the bedroom as he bites back, “Eddie? I don’t know who the fuck you think you’re talking to, sweetheart, but that is incorrect.”
I’m practically stumbling over my own feet, he’s pushing me so hard and walking too fast for me to find a good rhythm in my steps. I get shoved down onto the mattress face first, but quickly flip myself around and sit up, scrambling backwards to the opposite side of the bed. “Stop it! Eddie I said I was sorry, I was joking! Don’t do this, seriously.” My voice is definitely mixed with panic and anger… arousal is in there somewhere too, judging by the wet spot I know is coming through my panties right now.
He grabs me by my ankles and drags me back towards him, before flipping me over, scolding me as he yanks off my panties and giving my ass a few hard spanks with his hand to warm me up. “Let me get this straight. You are acting like a fucking brat, and now you refuse to take your punishment for it? Not only that, you know how you’re supposed to address me right now, yet you keep acting like you’re just my sweet little girlfriend and calling me by my name. But you’re not my sweet little girlfriend right now, are you?”
He doesn’t even give me a chance to respond to his questions, he just grabs his belt and uses every harsh spank with it to emphasize his next words. “You. Are. My. Bratty. Fucking. Slut.” I wince and whine at every smack, and then my hands fly back to cover my now-bright red ass for protection. He has no patience with me anymore, I can tell. He grabs my hands to pin them behind my back, which makes me groan out in frustration and panic, and without even thinking about it, I’ve kicked my feet at him and hit him right in the thigh. Thankfully it wasn’t a direct kick to the balls, but it was close. And now I’m fucked.
I look back at him as best as I can, and the look on his face sends another round of chills down my spine. I can feel myself getting wetter by the second though, fuck my life. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it!” I scream at him, squirming as hard as I could to try to get away, “I wouldn’t have done that if you had just let me go!”
He tuts at me from behind, sighing in disappointment. “You really need a lesson in obedience today, don’t you? I tried to just give you a few spankings with the belt. Just a few, and you just can’t stop making things worse for yourself.” He grabs me by the hair and yanks me up to sit, making me yelp. My shirt is torn off of me before a quick, double-handed shove sends me crashing back down. It’s not gentle, and I let out an “oof” when I hit the bed. He grabs me by my hips and flips me over again before getting onto the bed and straddling me so I can’t squirm away.
He leans over and grabs a piece of rope in the bedside table drawer before grabbing my wrists harshly. As he is tying my wrists together, he talks to me rather calmly, as if he’s explaining how two plus two equals four. “If you had just taken your punishment like a good girl, I wouldn’t be having to do this, sweetheart. But you just couldn’t shut your mouth, could you? And then you kick me? You actually kick me? Well, when this all gets too intense for you, just remember that you brought this on yourself. I tried to let you off easy, I really did. But now it’s time to face the consequences, sweetheart.” He sighs as he pulls my arms up to tie the other end of the rope against the headboard, acting like my squirming is literally nothing to him. The entire time he’s talking I’ve been doing my best to squirm, to look at him with pleading eyes, to whimper at him submissively like I know he likes, but none of it was doing a single thing to change his mind.
I suddenly notice just how naked I am, and just how clothed he is. It makes my thighs squeeze together as I try to hide just how fucking turned on I am by all of this. Am I terrified? Yes. Have I ever gotten in this much trouble before? No. Am I wetter than I’ve ever been before in my life? God, yes. When he is done with the ties, he looks down at me with his arms crossed against his chest again and his eyebrow raised, waiting for… something?
I look up at him for a few seconds, getting a little bit irritated by the way he’s sitting there and staring at me expectantly but not doing or saying anything. “What?” Oops. That came out harsher than I meant it to.
“Well? Are you going to apologize?” He demands. Why the fuck is my only urge when he looks like that to make him even more agitated? I know punishment is coming. I know he’s at his limit with my disobedience and attitude. And yet it’s just too entertaining to witness all of his reactions when I refuse to give up.
“No. You don’t own me, you can’t make me do shit.” I glare at him, shutting my eyes and pulling at the restraints slightly as I prepare for a slap. It doesn’t come.
I slowly peek one eye open and he leans forward, grabbing my chin in his hand so hard it hurts until I fully look at him, and then whispers, “Oh, but I do. And you’re going to learn that the hard way.” I can’t help but swallow hard, and my mouth dries out again. I have no clever response to that.
He crawls off of me and grabs the underside of my knees, yanking them open despite me trying to keep them closed. I knew I was a mess down there and I didn’t want him to have the satisfaction of knowing that too. When he sees how wet I am, he lets out a whistle. “Damn, baby. You are such a dirty girl.” His fingers go right to my core, spreading my lips apart with two fingers, causing me to whimper and turn my face away from him because the way he’s looking at my pussy right now has my stomach doing flips.
He slides two his two fingers up and down my slit to wet them before shoving them both inside me, giving me absolutely no time to adjust before he starts pumping them in and out at a much faster pace than he normally warms me up with. I moan out as his fingers are sliding in and out easily. I can already hear how wet I am on his fingers, and it makes my cheeks flush at the sound. I can’t even help it at this point and I squirm at the sensation, my legs closing around his hand. Which, obviously doesn’t do fucking anything to stop him or even slow him down. He curls his fingers up once he feels my g-spot start to swell from stimulation, not only making a “come here” motion but also still bringing his fingers in and out of me at a vicious pace. I squeeze my legs tighter and my moans straight up sound like I’m in a porno movie or something.
“You are so fucking wet. I don’t even need to warm you up like this, do I? No, I don’t think I do.” He rips his hands away and leaves me whining at the empty feeling, but it is quickly replaced by the tip of his cock teasing my entrance. I don’t even remember seeing him take off his pants. He slides it along my slit and barely touches my clit with it, which makes me flinch. He slowly pushes himself inside of me as he grabs my hips so hard, I swear they’ll bruise. He leans his head back and groans at the feeling, but just a moment later he is pounding into me at an unforgiving pace. I look at him as my mouth hangs open, keeping eye contact as I’m unable to hold back my moans yet again. The speed of his thrusts mixed with just how turned on I am causes me to get closer to an orgasm much faster than I’d like to.
I absentmindedly try to wrap my arms around him for something to hold on to but the ropes promptly remind me that I can’t. As he feels my pussy starting to twitch and throb the closer I get to an orgasm, he grabs onto the back of my thighs and pushes my legs up and to the side of me, giving him a much better angle to hit my g-spot with every thrust. When he hears the sweet sounds I’m making at this angle, he starts pushing himself deeper and thrusting his hips even harder, practically slamming into my cervix every few thrusts. If it weren’t for how ruthlessly he was fucking me, I would be extremely distracted by the heavenly groans that were freely flowing from his lips right now.
I’m heading towards an orgasm so quickly, I barely have time to say “I’m gonna” before he pulls his cock out of me faster than I can realize what was happening. Right as I’m about to open my mouth to argue or whine at him for rudely stopping my impending orgasm, he brings his hand down to slap my pussy. The wet sound it makes mixed with the sting on my sensitive lips makes me arch my back and groan. He chuckles darkly and slaps my pussy again just to hear me make that sound again.
Then he gets right in my face, and his voice sounds like it’s practically an entire octave lower than usual. “Do you want me to make you cum? Hm? Is that what you want?” I know where this is heading, and it is not in my favor. I nod my head quickly at him, making my voice sound as submissive as I can manage right now, hoping it will work.
“Yes! Yes please, please make me cum! Please Ed-Sir! Please make me cum Sir!” When I almost called him Eddie, he looked like he was about to fucking lose it, so I corrected myself. There have been times before when he’s edged me for days without letting me cum, and I absolutely cannot take that kind of punishment right now.
He places his hand around my throat, squeezing tight enough so that I can’t easily speak and then slams himself inside of me again without warning. No sound comes out when I try to cry out from the sudden force. He speeds up and slows down in a repeating pattern until I’m quivering under him and he can feel just how close I am. He loosens his grip on my throat and has a devilish smirk while he says, “Say it again. Beg me. Say ‘Please Sir, please make me cum like the little slut I am.”
I balk at his words; my voice is caught in my throat and I even stop moaning for a second. I’m so fucking close to cumming though, my legs are shaking uncontrollably. He slaps both of my tits, hard, to jump-start my brain into saying something. “Fuck! Don’t make me say that, God, please just let me cum!”
A chuckle escapes his lips and he tuts his tongue at me in disappointment. He slaps me in the face suddenly. “God isn’t here, sweetheart. It’s just me. You just don’t want to listen, do you?” He says this casually, as if he didn’t just hit me. He pulls his cock out of me again, and I whine as my impending orgasm fizzles out again. He leans over and grabs more rope, silently tying my calf to my thigh and then tying the other side of the rope to the headboard. He does the same thing to my other leg, so that both of my legs are tied up and out of his way. I give the ropes a test squirm and become increasingly nervous as I realize just how little wiggle room I have. I can barely even move my hips an inch. Not good.
I want so badly to complain, to whine, to beg, to argue my way out of this. But as soon as my mouth opens, no words come out. Which is good, because the way he’s looking at me is telling me that now my punishment is going to really begin, and I am too nervous to make it any worse than it’s about to be. He reaches his hand out towards me and grips my cheeks in between his thumb and fingers, digging in. “You have been such a brat today, you don’t deserve an ounce of mercy, sweetheart.”
He lets my cheeks go with a bit of force, before aligning himself up against my entrance and slamming inside me again. I’m hitting the edge so fast, I can’t even help myself from begging, despite what he literally just told me about not deserving mercy. “Please! Please just let me cum. Don’t edge me again, please! Two times is enough, Sir. Please, two times is enough!” My voice sounds whorish, even I can hear it. The force that he’s slamming into me makes every other syllable sound strained through my moans.
“Oh, you think two times is enough?” He scoffs at me before pulling all the way out until just the tip is at my entrance, before slamming into me all the way and growling, “You think two times is all you deserve? You’re pathetic, baby. You don’t even realize how much you need me to break you, to put you in your place.”
He pulls out and slams into me again, his hands reaching up and pinching my nipples hard enough to make me yelp. He continues at this pace, keeping me right on the edge with his incredibly slow, forceful thrusts. “Now beg me for it. Tell me you want me to make you cum. Say ‘Please Sir, please make me cum like the little slut I am.’” He spits out the word “slut” with venom, his eyes don’t leave mine for a second. I’m so close, so needy, so fucking close that I don’t dare look away from him either.
I cry out in frustration, a “no!” escaping my lips before I can even stop it. I look at him desperately, about to apologize for defying him yet again and beg him to just let me cum, but he smacks my tits again and uses both of his hands to grip my throat. He squeezes just enough that I can still breathe, if I really focus, but there’s no way I can talk.
“No?” he repeats, an evil grin spreading across his face as he pulls out of me all the way again, and I think for a second he’s going to stop completely. “Well then, I guess we’re just going to have to keep going, aren’t we?” He leans in and bites the inside of my tit right next to my nipple so hard that I pull against the restraints and my eyes squeeze shut. He pushes himself back into me again, his pace so fast the bed sounds like it’s going to fucking break. I’m so close, so so close, and he knows it. He can feel it. “Don’t you dare fucking cum, babygirl.”
As tears start to spring to my eyes, he lets my throat go and places his hands on each side of my head instead. The second I can, I’m begging as best as I can, “Please! Please pleasepleaseplease let me cum, Sir I can’t take it, please!” My words are barely even words, they’re all mushed together and tangled in between moans. My entire body is shaking from being so close as I try my best to hold it back.
The grin on his face is sinister. “That’s more like it! Keep fucking begging, sweetheart. Say those magic words for me and I’ll let you cum.” His pace is unrelenting, giving me no option other than to hold back my orgasm, which he knows I can’t do for long.. Bastard, he isn’t giving me a choice anymore.
My breathing becomes ragged as I fight desperately not to cum, but I can’t do it anymore. My eyes fly open wide and just as I’m about to lose control, he pulls out of me all the way. I never thought I’d be so relieved to feel the sensation of my orgasm fading away. I immediately pout at him, my voice barely above a whisper, “I can’t say it, Sir.. It’s too embarrassing. Please, please just let me cum.”
“Oh, is it embarrassing for you?” He asks, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. He wraps a hand in my hair, pulling my head up just a bit and putting his face very close to mine. “You think it’s embarrassing to beg for my cock? To admit that you’re mine and you’ll do anything for me to let you cum?” He slides his fingers inside of me, curling his fingers up towards my g-spot and fingering me violently, putting his entire arm into it, causing my hips to jiggle with the pure force of his movements. “Well, you’re gonna have to get over that embarrassment and beg me the right way, because I’m not stopping until you do, slut.”
Tears form in my eyes at his words and the fact that he’s yet again working me so quickly towards an orgasm. It’s making my brain start to go fuzzy from all of the edges, slaps, and harsh words. My mouth opens and I can tell that the moans and gasps coming from me are just entertainment for Eddie at this point, because he mockingly moans right back at me, then growls. “Yeah? That feel good baby?”
I can’t handle it anymore, all of my nerves feel like they’re being set on fire with how much I need to cum right now. I let out a single whimper in defeat, and my eyes drift away from him despite the fact that he’s holding my head up and forcing his face in mine. “Please Sir! Please make me cum…” the second half of my sentence is barely above a whisper, but I know he can hear it. “Like the l-little sl-slut I am.” My cheeks are on fire and I’m sure I am the color of a tomato after I finally say it.
He sighs with satisfaction, his smirk turning into a huge grin and he finally lets my hair go. Just as I think he’s finally about to let me cum, he pulls his hand out of me yet again. I squirm against the ropes and a single tear falls onto my cheek with pure frustration, looking at him with horror as if he just committed a crime.
“You’re not getting off that easy. Say it like you mean it, baby. Say it like you’re proud to be my slut.” He slides his cock back into me, both of us emitting a low, guttural groan at the same time. He barely gives me a second to hesitate before slapping me on my cheek again, his voice as sharp as a knife. “Fucking. Say. It.”
I gasp as he slaps my cheek again before letting out a mix between a moan and a whine in frustration from how torturously slow he’s going. His goal right now is just to keep me teetering on the knife’s edge of an orgasm. I finally give up and cry out, “Please! Please Sir, make me cum like the little slut I am, please! I can’t take it anymore!”
The smirk that crept back on his face was pure evil. “Good fucking girl!” he groans as he finally picks up the pace, pumping into me deep and hard and fast, slamming into my g-spot with every thrust. As my orgasm finally crashes into me, I practically scream. My back arches as much as it is allowed and I can still hear the sloppy wet sounds of him slamming into me over and over, despite how loud I am. My breath is stolen away from me with how intense it all is, all of those edges making this one orgasm almost unbearable. My limbs keep shaking and fighting against the rope even as my orgasm slows down because my pussy immediately feels overstimulated. My eyes look glossy as tears are filling them again and I can’t stop squirming. “Please stop, please stop, it’s too much! I came, I’m done cumming! Sir I came, now please give me a break!”
He chuckles at my predicament, leaning down and brushing his lips against my ear as he whispers, “You are mine to use however I want. I’m not going to stop until you’re a sobbing, blubbering mess.” The sound I make at this is in between a cry and a moan, since he is fucking me so hard and fast that I’m immediately being dragged toward another orgasm. The sound I make causes him to groan and add, “And even then, I might not stop. Not until I’m good and ready to stop watching you cum. You have been such a naughty fucking girl today, and I am going to teach you a fucking lesson.”
I cry out at his words in protest, hopelessly squirming against the restraints as he fucks me closer and closer to my next orgasm. The closer I get, the more uneven my breathing becomes. I look up at him, pleading with him desperately. “Sir, please don’t do this to me! I’ve learned my lesson, I promise!” I can’t help but squeeze my eyes shut, fighting hard to hold back my next orgasm threatening to hit me like a brick wall.
“I don’t believe you,” Eddie growls, thrusting harder as he feels me tensing up beneath him. He looks down at me heartlessly. “You’re going to cum for me. Right now.”
As soon as he tells me, no, fucking commands me to cum, I’m seeing stars. I can feel his eyes locked on my face, committing the look of pleasured agony on my face to memory. My moans are stuck in my throat with the intensity and my entire body is shaking and twitching and squirming. The sounds coming from his cock slamming into my pussy is fucking filthy. As my orgasm slows down, my limbs go limp and I am panting hard, trying like hell to catch my breath.
He finally pulls out of me, leaving me twitching and whimpering from how hard I just came. My eyes flutter open at him, thanking him wordlessly for finally giving me a break. As I lay there with my chest heaving, believing he’s going to actually have some mercy on me, he lets his eyes trail down my body and fall onto my pussy. More specifically, my swollen and twitching clit.
The sight makes him look at me like he was just given a new favorite toy. “Oh look, your poor little clit is just begging for my attention. I’ve been so mean to neglect it!” He slowly glides his fingers down my thigh, looking into my eyes and chuckling, “I hope you didn’t think I was done with you, sweetheart.” He quickly removes his own shirt before ever so gently sliding his fingers up and down my folds, before landing on my clit and gently circling it, but not quite touching yet. He leans down and kisses my chest, working his lips all the way down to my pussy, ignoring every one of my whimpers. He places a single, very gentle kiss directly on my clit as a warning for what’s to come, making me jerk and squeal.
“Please Sir, my I’m way too sensitive for this!” I beg, a full pout on my lips. “I’m too sensitive..”
Eddie laughs in amusement at my protest. His tongue darts out to flick at my clit, making me gasp and jerk my hips again. “Oh baby,” he breathes, “You’re always too sensitive for me.” He smirks and flattens his tongue, slowly licking from the very bottom of my entrance to the top of my clit, making me squirm and whine, unable to peel my eyes off of him. He suddenly pulls back, bringing his hand down to slap me 5 sharp times on my pussy, which makes me throw my head back with a long groan and flinch with every hit. “I don’t remember asking for your fucking opinion, though, slut.” He leans back down, placing his lips directly over my clit and sucking just barely, before rolling his tongue slowly. He only gives me about 2 seconds of soft touches before starting his assault. He violently lashes his tongue against my clit, then starts sucking hard, rolling his tongue with force.
I squeak and jerk, before ungodly sounds start falling from my mouth. My arms and legs pull against their restraints and I do my very best to buck my hips away from his ministrations. I’m babbling nonsense and moaning lewdly, already fully overstimulated and he’s barely even started eating me out.
He groans at the sight of me squirming, sending vibrations through my clit. He’s unable to stop himself from groaning out some more as he hears every one of my incoherent babbles for mercy. He keeps going at a steady pace, pushing me close to another orgasm. He could spend days down there, the sound and sight of me right now just too sweet for him to not enjoy every single second of it.
I’m internally panicking as I near the edge of another orgasm. My breathing is fast and shallow and I can barely get a single word of my begging to actually sound like a real word. “Please, please no this is too intense! I can’t!” I pant out, praying he can understand me between my moaning and panting and how much I’m stuttering through my words.
Eddie chuckles darkly at my pleas, happy that he’s got me exactly where he wants me. He pulls back just enough to lick a long strip up my entire pussy again and looks up at me with a smirk. When I look back at him, I gasp slightly. His eyes are fucking black, his pupils are so huge that all the pretty brown in his eyes have disappeared. There wasn’t a single ounce of leniency in his features. “You can’t handle it, huh?” he taunts, laughing. “It’s too intense, baby?” He pouts at me mockingly, using his fingertips to gently rub my clit, keeping me from getting a real break, but I’m grateful to be able to catch my breath at least.
I whimper at him pathetically and nod, looking at him with tears threatening to spill out of my eyes. “Yes! Please, please no more Sir, it is too intense, it is! I won’t be able to handle cumming like this!” My words are flying out of my mouth as fast as I can say them, hoping beyond all hope that he listens to me this time.
He watches me intently as I beg and the tears threatening to spill down my face are obvious, but his eyes don’t soften one bit. If anything, they seem to somehow darken even more. He shakes his head slowly, his lips curling into another sinister smile as he whispers, “Oh, it’s so cute when you beg me like that. I think you’re finally starting to learn your lesson in respect.” And with that, he returns his tongue to my clit, thrashing it cruelly against me and wrapping his lips around, sucking and rolling his tongue to elicit more sweet, desperate cries from my mouth.
I let out a strangled moan as soon as he continues, and my orgasm hits me almost immediately. I struggle and thrash against the restraints, this orgasm feeling 100 times more intense than the others. Tears fall onto my cheeks as the pleasure turns into pure torture, words lost in my throat yet again as all I can do is scream and moan and take it.
His tongue works up a frenzy, not giving me a moment's rest as he forces my orgasm to be drawn out as long as he can. When I finally come down from my high, he looks up at me to see my ruined face. Pink cheeks, tear stains, red and swollen lips from how much I’ve been chewing on them. His hand moves to gently rub my pussy lips, licking his lips at the sight of me. “That’s it, my little slut. You belong to me. I can do whatever I want with you. Right?”
His question is a test, and I am desperate to pass with flying colors. “Yes! Yes Sir, I belong to you! You own me, please!” I look at him with pleading eyes, a few tears leaking down my cheeks again as my legs tremble uncontrollably.
To my utter relief, his eyes finally soften towards me and he smiles up at me. He pulls himself up to kiss my lips gently, slowly sliding two fingers inside of me, thrusting them deep and hard, but slow. “That’s it, good girl. I’m so glad to see you’ve finally learned your manners, baby.” He pulls back to watch me, enjoying the sight of me being so submissive as he slowly slides his fingers in and out of me with force. After a minute or so, he talks gently to me. “I’m going to leave you tied up, sweetheart. I know you’re being good now, but you understand that I have to finish your punishment, right? I can’t let you off the hook just because you’re finally being my good girl.”
I’m so grateful that he’s finally being gentle with me that it takes me a good few seconds to process what he says. My eyes are glossed over and my brain is so fuzzy; I can feel myself drifting into subspace with every passing moment. He can see it in me too, he knows me so well. I sniffle when I finally realize what he’s said and he’s expecting a response, slowly nodding my head. My voice is hoarse from all the sounds I’ve been making. “Yes Sir. I’m sorry Sir.”
He hums, visibly pleased with my response. “That’s better baby, I know you are.” He pulls his fingers out of me before standing up, turning towards the night stand again. He opens up a drawer and pulls out my arch nemesis: The Magic Wand. I can never handle that without begging and sobbing for mercy, even without it being a part of a punishment. Even when he tries to be nice, it’s always too much.
He turns back towards me, searching my face for any sign of resistance, just to make sure that I really have learned my lesson and I plan on being a good girl. The second I see the wand my cunt clenches and I let out the tiniest whimper, gulping nervously. A single tear falls down my cheek again and he brings his hand up to wipe it away. “I know baby, I know.” He says softly before turning around and plugging it into the wall.
The moment he turns back around and switches it on, he presses it against my clit, watching every single expression on my face. I jerk against the restraints and feel like the wind has been knocked out of my lungs. He bites his lip for a second before groaning out, “Ohh, that’s it baby. Feel that?” I can only whine at him in response, struggling to keep my eyes on his but somehow I manage, although tears are threatening to spill out any second from the overstimulation. “You’re going to cum so hard for me, aren’t you baby?” He presses it into my clit more, making tiny circles, causing me to cry out and arch my back, my entire body pulling against the restraints whether I want them to or not.
“Yes!” I cry out in response to him, although it barely sounds like a word. My entire body feels like it’s being electrocuted, and I can’t help but shake violently as I’m being thrust into an orgasm within seconds of him asking. A scream rips itself out of my throat and I feel like I’m going to explode. Eddie’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he hears me, groaning out, “That’s right, fucking scream for me.”
I feel like this orgasm is never going to end. My vision is going black, or maybe my eyes are just squeezed shut, I can’t even tell anymore. The way I scream is absolutely primal, tears rolling down my face and my crying turns to sobbing. My entire body is full of electricity and suddenly, I feel it. My body is fucking convulsing (as much as it can against the rope, anyway) as fluid starts squirting from my pussy. I feel it pool up underneath me and I hear a gasp and a groan from Eddie. “Thaaaat’s it baby, look at you fucking go!” he sounds like he could cum just from the sight of me. As soon as it ends, he finally turns the vibrator off and pulls it away. I feel like I can finally fill my lungs with oxygen again.
When my eyes open, Eddie and I stare at each other with the exact same look of utter shock on our faces. That’s the first time I have ever done that. His look of surprise is short-lived though because when he sees the mess I’ve made on his hand, he drops the vibrator to inspect his hand in the light. He licks off every finger with a smack of his lips and a wicked fucking grin on his face. My face is frozen still, especially after seeing him do that. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he breathes, staring down at me with a mixture of awe and something wild in his eyes.
I close my eyes and a few more tears fall out onto my cheeks as my breathing is still a bit ragged. I feel his hands gently wipe away my tears and he whispers, “Baby, look at me.” My eyes flutter open halfway, nibbling my bottom lip. “Color?” He asks, his eyes look so warm and caring at this moment. I lean into his hand on my cheek with a tiny smile and a sniffle.
“Green.. I promise I’m okay. That was just… I don’t know if I can do that again.” I shake my head at him to emphasize my words, but I feel much more grounded after the check-in.
He smiles gently at me, nodding back as his expression softens. “I know baby, I know that was a lot. But you’re doing so well.” He puts two fingers under my chin, making sure my eyes stay trained on his so that I really hear every word. “You can do this, sweetheart. I know you can.” He leans down and presses a kiss to my forehead before lifting back up, a stern expression on his face again. “Now. I want you to repeat after me. Say ‘Please Sir, I want you to make me cum like that again.’” He watches me closely, licking his lips as he waits for my response.
I close my eyes as he kisses my forehead, nodding through his encouragement. But my eyes fly right back open with his last demand and my voice gets caught in my throat again. Even as fucked out and obedient as I am now, my heart rate spikes at the thought of having to do… that again. Still, I swallow hard before somehow forcing the words out. “Please, Sir… I want you to make me cum like that again.” My lower lip is quivering as I whimper the words out.
He groans as I say this, his cock twitching noticeably. His lips suddenly crash into mine, kissing me roughly. As he pulls back, he’s got that wild look in his eyes again as they trace over every inch of my body. “That’s my good girl. I’m going to make you cum one more time while I use that throat of yours.” He climbs onto the bed again, facing away from the headboard and putting each of his legs on either side of my head. I open my mouth and stick my tongue out, the heavenly sound of his own moan flooding my ears as he slowly lowers himself into my mouth, making sure to glide himself all along my tongue on the way in. He pumps his cock in and out of my mouth at a steady pace, slowly working its way towards my throat. After a couple minutes of this, he feels himself getting close to his own release. He leans over and grabs the wand again, turning it on and growling, “Get ready, slut. Knock on the headboard if you really need to breathe.”
He shoves his cock deep into my throat and I can’t help but gag, struggling to breathe through my nose and relax the muscles in my throat. “Fuck!” he groans out, before he pulls the hood of my clit back, something he knows is the most cruel thing he could do, and presses the wand firmly into my clit. Every single muscle in my body cries out in agony, begging to be allowed to squirm away from the sensation. I try to scream out but it makes me gag, and I lose my ability to breathe at all as my lungs refuse to work anymore from all of the stimulation. Too much stimulation. My brain feels like it’s short circuiting. Just as my lungs are starting to burn from lack of oxygen, I cum somehow even harder than I did the last time. I feel like I’m on fire and being shot up into icy space at the same time. I can’t move, I can’t scream, I can only cum. Once again, I feel myself start to squirt, and it all becomes too much. I start gagging on him again, and I hear him fucking whimper before groaning. His cum shoots down my throat and I have no choice but to swallow it.
He turns the vibrator off and throws it to the side, pulling his cock out quickly as I gasp for breath, taking in huge gulps of air as he makes quick work of my restraints. He slowly guides my arms down and gently rubs my shoulders, then helps me close my legs and gently rubs my hips. He whispers, “I know baby, I know,” as I wince from the pain of finally being able to move my limbs and them being so sore.
The second he looks me in the eyes and is about to ask how I feel, my vision goes blurry and I’m confused for a second before I actually realize I’m crying again. I can’t stop it though, my body is so exhausted and my brain is so fuzzy and every part of me is buzzing and sore. He instantly wraps me up in his arms, cradling my head against my chest and kissing my head. “Good girl,” he whispers to me, and his voice back to the normal, sweet and kind Eddie I hear every day. “You are such a good girl, I am so fucking proud of you, baby.”
This was easily the most intense punishment I have ever been through, and he knows it. I’ve never squirted before in my life. I can barely even hear him whispering reassuring words to me over my own ragged breathing and sniffles, but I do notice that I am clinging onto him for dear life. He holds me close, rocking me gently back and forth. He kisses me on the top of my head again, and his voice starts to soothe every ounce of unrest in my body.
“Shh, shh.. It’s okay baby, I know it was rough, that was a really hard lesson. But you did so good.. I’m so so proud of you, baby.” He slowly takes his hand off of my head, leaning back enough so that he can wipe away the tears on my cheeks with his thumbs. Then he cups my cheeks in his hands and kisses all over my face. He starts at my forehead, then my nose, then both of my cheeks, and over my eyes. He is so gentle with every kiss, and about halfway through my tears stop falling and a little tiny giggle escapes my lips.
I open my eyes to look up at him and his heart breaks when he sees my eyes red from so many tears and my cheeks absolutely covered in tear stains and blotchy pink skin. “Was that too much for you?” he whispers, talking so softly, as if his tone itself could blow me away if it was too loud or firm.
I smile softly and shake my head, still sniffling but just barely. His eyes look so pretty, I could get lost in them and never want to find my way out. His eyebrows are furrowed with concern and I can see his eyes scanning my every feature to make sure I really am okay. My heart swells about a thousand times its normal size. “No, it wasn’t too much, Eddie. It was so, so good. It was easily the most intense thing I’ve ever felt in my life, but it wasn’t too much. I promise. I just need lots of love now, okay?” I smile at him again with a little scrunch of my nose, trying to make extra sure he knows I really am okay.
Eddie lets out a shaky breath but I can see the relief on his face as he brings my head into his chest again, holding his hand there to cradle it as he tickles gentle circles across my back with his other hand. “I’m right here, baby. I’m right here. I’ve got you. I love you so much.”
I close my eyes again because the sensation on my back feels like heaven. I mumble into his skin, “I love you too. So much, Eddie.” I start trying to regulate my breathing, every deep inhale brings his delicious scent of woodsy musk and cigarettes. Once I feel like I’m returning back into a normal headspace, I pull back a little and show him my wrists and point to my legs. They’re still red and indented from the rope. “Can you help these feel better please?”
He smiles softly down at me, his eyes and fingers running over every single mark on my skin, before nodding. “Of course, baby. Let’s go into the bathroom and I’ll take care of you.” He gets off the bed before picking me up and helping me wrap my legs around him. I press my face into his neck and wrap my arms around him and can’t help but smile. I could honestly live like this, in his embrace. Smelling his skin. His hair tickling my face. Feeling his chest against mine. It’s all perfection.
Once we get to the bathroom, he slowly puts me down and spins me gently to face the mirror. He looks into it at me, smiling and petting my hair to smooth it down. “There’s my pretty girl,” he murmurs, “You are so perfect.” My face turns a bright ride and I hide my face in my hands, unable to help myself.
“Eddie!” I giggle out. He always knows how to make me smile and completely fluster me at the same time. I gently peek at him in the mirror through my fingers, his smile is so sweet as he watches me. He chuckles at my reaction, gently placing his hands on my hips and spinning me around to look at him. I lower my hands and stare into his eyes, practically entranced.
“You’re so cute, baby.” He smiles and kisses my forehead again, bringing each of my hands into his and up to his lips, kissing each one so gently. He guides me over to sit down on the toilet seat, before turning to the tub and turning on the water. “Let’s get you all cleaned up, yeah?”
As I sit down and watch the tub start to fill, I nod and lean forward to rest my head against his side, wanting to never stop touching him. “Yeah…yes please, I’d love a bath.”
We wait in silence for a few minutes before he checks the temperature. Deeming it perfect, he grabs my hands again to help guide me towards the tub. As I sit down and relax into the water, he smiles at me and says, “Ahhhhh, that’s better, isn’t it? Feel good baby?”
I nod and smile up at him and watch as he grabs the shower head to bring it down. He sits down next to the tub, turning on the shower head and he is so careful about wetting my hair without letting water drip onto my face.
He takes his time, massaging my scalp slowly and with the perfect pressure as he shampoos it. After another few minutes of silence, I hear him starting to hum one of the songs from that Black Sabbath album, Master of Reality. I can’t tell which song it is, though. My eyes start to droop and I giggle a little at the end of the song as he’s slowly rinsing the soap out of my hair.
“You’re going to make me fall asleep if you keep this up, you know. Warm water, massages, and music? You’re spoiling me, Eddie.” I say, my eyes closed still to make sure no soap or water gets into my eyes as he rinses my hair off.
He chuckles softly at me, pressing a kiss to my now-clean hair. “I could do this for hours, baby. Plus, you deserve to be spoiled. Trust me.” I sigh in content and lean into his kiss, feeling utter bliss in the calm of the moment.
Once he is done making every inch of me nice and clean, continuing the whole time to give me praise and making sure he is absolutely as gentle as he can be, he drains the tub for me and helps me stand up. He wraps me in a towel and gives me a great big hug, and it takes him a few seconds to let go. He picks me up again, bridal style this time, and brings me back to the bedroom despite my giggling at him that I am able to use my feet again.
“I know you can, but I’ve got you baby, don’t you even worry about it.” He presses another kiss into the side of my head, which is probably the thousandth kiss of the evening. Not that I’m complaining for a second. He helps me get dressed into my comfiest pajamas and then dresses himself in boxers and a random t-shirt. He turns to me when he’s finished, cocking his head at me with a smile.
“So…I call for pizza, you pick the movie?” he asks, already reaching for the phone. Yeah… I’m so spoiled.
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#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie stranger things#Eddie Munson Stranger Things#Stranger Things#Smut#Stranger Things Smut#Fanfiction Smut#Fanfic Smut#Fanfiction Writing#Fanfic Writing#Stranger Things Fic#Stranger Things Fanfiction#Eddie Munson Fanfiction#Eddie Munson Fanfic#Stranger Things Fanfic#Eddie Munson Fic#Stranger Things Eddie#Stranger Things Eddie Munson#Eddie Munson x Reader#Eddie x Reader#Dom!Eddie Munson#Dom!Eddie#BratTamer!Eddie Munson#BratTamer!Eddie#Sub!Reader#Brat!Reader#Dom/Sub#Brat/Tamer#Female Reader
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hi can u do where tent comes home only to see his lover crying and he feels absolutely guilty even though he doesn’t know what happened
comfort — trent alexander-arnold ₊˚ෆ
🍓hana’s notes: aw this is so 🥹🥹🥹 so sorry it has taken me this long my love!!! everyone needs comfort once in a while. i love yall <3 proud of u forever mwah
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Your eyes were stinging, your breaths coming in shorts pants, and you could feel your hand becoming more numb.
There was no specific reason to why you’re crying— not really. But it just had been one of those days where it overwhelmed you like never before.
Your dropped your whole coffee order the second you tried to take a sip, your boss nagging in your ear about your performance and kept comparing you to other employees, you tried picking up your fallen pencil box which ended up with all your stationary on the floor, and the worse bit— your sweater got caught up on the door handle when you came home.
It was not a smooth day and the pressure just got to you.
You tried to keep the tears at bay but the more you did, the more your sobs were begging to be let out.
“Baby?”
The sobs alerted Trent the moment he step foot in the bedroom. His heart dropping when he say you curled up on the floor, knees to your chest with your head down.
He rushed to your side, soft hands stroking affectionately at your hair, “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” his voice heavy with worry, “Did somethin’ happen? Do I need to hit someone?”
That made a laugh bubble up escape you as you shook your head, “No. Nothin’ happened. Just had a bad day.” you let out a deep breath, leaning to Trent’s touch.
He always makes you calmer, his presence is enough to slow down your heart rate.
A guilty feeling wrapped itself around Trent’s heart. He’s not very good at handling emotions so he’s a little clueless, mouth closing and opening to find the right words. But at least he knows you.
“‘m sorry baby.” he crooned, pressing light kisses at the crown of your head. “Uh— did you eat yet? Wanna go somewhere?” hands moving to the sides of your face, his doe eyes filled with worry as it stared into your tear stricken ones.
You softly shook your head, “No. Just—“
“What about ice cream?”
That made your ears perk up, “Ice cream?” Trent softly giggled when he saw how your puffy eyes lit up, you’re so adorable he might just bite your cheeks. “Yeah? Want me to get it for you?”
Sniffling, you shyly answered, “Yes, please.”
“Okay, baby.” he chuckled, kissing your forehead, your tear stained cheeks and lastly your lips. “Be right back.” a sly wink was delivered to you as he stood up.
His jokes sometimes makes you want to jump off a cliff, “Ugh, you’re so lame!”
“Love you!”
#sorry if its bad <3#i love yall <33#hana writes!#trent alexander arnold x reader#trent alexander arnold#trent alexander imagines#trent alexander x you#football x reader#taa x reader
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A Lions fight part 2
Leah williamson x reader
The last group games were today. All or nothing. Qualification or “failure”. The ones who made it would celebrate, while other players' dreams would be crushed leaving them frustrated with their own performance, not happy of themself. But sometimes that's football. A big part of the game is to learn how to pick up the shattered hopes to build them back up. To not give up easily. Staying strong when tough times arise and having your teams back no matter what.
Currently, you and your girlfriend are in the stands. England vs Scotland while the Netherlands played Belgium. Of course you’d watch the Lionesses game live, your girlfriend is their captain after all. That didn’t prevent you from checking your phone every few minutes to check the score of the other match. Honestly you’d be content with either team qualifying, you had people on both teams to cheer on. Sadly they cannot both qualify.
For the sake of your sanity your vote was slightly leaning towards England. Otherwise Leah could get insufferable with all her moaning and groaning, not the pleasant one which you induced. At the beginning she looks absolutely adorable, all huffing, puffing and pouting but when her never ending complaints start it can get irritating. The simplest way to upper her mood would be a nice bath. Wine in hand and her back pressed to your front. Praises softly whispered into her ear and feather light kisses pressed to her neck and cheeks.
As halftime arrived the odds seemed to be in England's favor, they were playing incredibly. Leah was beaming, I mean they still had to score a few more goals cause you were sure the oranje leeuwinnen weren’t done with one goal. But so far so good, your girlfriend knew the second half would be even more important but she still pulled you in for a kiss. Her smile couldn’t be wiped off her face. Her left arm was placed over your shoulders “Williamson suits you baby, wear it more often?” “Haa you wish my love, it will boost your ego more, it's big enough as it is.” a light giggle escapes your lips, kissing her cheek. “Ughhh you're cruel and my ego isn't that big.” she proceeds to wrap both her arms around you while your faces are inches away. “And here you are, in love with little ol cruel me, so that's on you Le.” “I wouldn't have it any other way, you are the best thing that's ever happened to me,” planting a tender kiss to your forehead, you sense a smirk forming on her lips “after the Euro’s win of course.” This statement earns her a slap to her upper arm “Leah!” “I’m kidding, I’m kidding baby.” due to her infectious laugh you can’t stay mad at her and laugh along.
Her demeanor changes pretty quickly. The second half isn’t as eventful as the first. They couldn't connect to their first half success, while the Netherlands were improving. After the regular 90 minutes it was looking good for England but a goal from Damaris soon followed. Everyone was on edge, Leah was seemingly worried. But Lucy came and told the dutchies to hold her purse and scored. People in the stand were going wild, surely this was it. England would be in the Olympics. An emotional rollercoaster coming to an end. Yet their joy didn't last long as Damaris surprisingly scored again.
As the girls found out, most of them began to burst into tears. Leah too. She immediately seeked the comfort of your neck and hid there for a few minutes until she calmed down. She wasn't crying the whole time as Leah normally has her emotions under control but you provided her with calmness and safety which she desperately needed in this moment. You both proceeded to head to the pitch, to be with the others.
Of course that didn’t mean you weren’t happy for Viv or the other leeuwinnen. The sadness overflowed you tho. The lionesses were all down. That didn't leave you with much room to think of something else except to console them. Both teams held a special place in your heart. You couldn't bear to watch them wallow in self pity. If you could do anything, and you mean anything to bring even the littlest smile on their faces you would try. You went to each and every girl with Leah to hug them. To tell them how incredible they played. And yeah it may not have been good enough but that's not what they should be focusing on right now. Who am I kidding, that's exactly what we are looking at. But they won 6 to 0, what a massive win. You were so incredibly proud of the girls and so was Leah. She made sure everyone on the team knew. To not beat themself up.
Leah also realized that because they were missing this tournament they’d at least have the essential rest in the summer. Finally a break in players' arduous schedules.
#england lionesses#woso imagine#woso#oranje leeuwinnen#leah williamson#woso x reader#fem reader#engwnt#leah williamson x reader#arsenal women
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~skz when you scream their name while they're performing~
pairing: ot8 stray kids x gn!reader
genre: fluff, headcanon
length: 770
warnings: none
chan
he’s so embarrassed. he hates anyone he knows watching him perform, much less his partner. minho hooked you up with really good seats, and you didn’t tell chan you were going to be there, because you wanted to surprise him. the second he hears you screaming his name and sees you in the crowd, he’s instantly turning sooooo red. anytime the choreo is remotely suggestive or he has to show his abs, he’s so embarrassed and almost doesn’t do it. (you make sure to scream extra loud at those parts.)
minho
he basically just ignores you. it’s not because he’s not super happy that you’re there watching him, he is just so focused every time he’s on stage. there’s no way he’s allowing anything to distract him from giving an incredible performance. so, you make it your personal mission to get a reaction out of him. you end up completely losing your voice for three days after the concert, because you were screaming so loud for him. it was totally worth it though, because you finally got him to break and give you a little smile by the end.
changbin
he is sooo excited to see you. he can’t keep a smile off his face for the rest of the performance, and he has to literally suppress a giddy giggle every time you scream his name. he just loves that you like him as much as he likes you. you also bring a silly little sign that you hold up for him. he’s blatantly flirting with you the whole concert, because he can’t not when you’re right there cheering for him. he's also borderline ignoring all other fans and not on purpose, he just can’t seem to look at anyone else but you.
hyunjin
he doesn’t react much when he hears you screaming his name, because like minho, he is focused on giving an incredible performance. but he will find you in the crowd and throw you a sly smirk, so you know he heard you and is happy you’re there. the rest of the concert he will look over at you every once in a while (not too much though because he doesn’t want to be distracted), but whenever he does he’s giving you a cocky grin or flirtatious expression. during one of the freestyle sections, he’ll make sure he’s on your side of the stage and will give you your own personal little dance.
jisung
when he hears you screaming his name and finds you in the crowd, his confidence absolutely skyrockets. he already has a major stage presence and just oozes confidence when he’s performing, but when he knows you’re in the audience watching him, it’s next level. his crowd interactions are so fun and flirtatious that you know all the jisung biases in the crowd (yourself included) are having the best concert of their lives.
felix
he’s sooooo happy to see you there, and he basically can’t keep his eyes off of you when he finds you in the crowd. all he wants to do is just look at you and interact with you for the rest of the concert, but he knows he has to interact with other fans as well. he gets so embarrassed when doing so, because he knows you’re there watching him basically flirt with other fans. you don’t care, because you know it’s just part of what he needs to do for his performance, but he still gets so embarrassed about it and will be apologizing to you for the next week.
seungmin
you aren’t actually screaming his name at the performance. instead you are screaming for every single other member except for him. like he knows you’re obviously there to watch him and you most definitely are going to watch him, but you will not be making it known at all that you actually like him. if he’s close to your section, you will make sure you yell someone else’s name loud enough for him to hear. you even have a sign for another member that says something stupid like “jisung please marry me!”
jeongin
he gets super excited at first that you’re there and makes it very obvious how happy he is. but when the other members notice why he’s getting all excited, they start joking with and teasing him about it. after that, he is basically pretending like he has no clue that you’re even there. he’s gotta protect his “too cool for school” image. he will still make sure to flash you a cute grin every now and again though.
#stray kids imagines#stray kids x reader#bang chan imagines#lee know imagines#changbin imagines#hyunjin imagines#han jisung imagines#felix imagines#seungmin imagines#jeongin imagines#stray kids#stray kids headcanons#headcanons#gn reader#mine#soft stray kids hours#q: painting with hyunjin
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sweet, sweet | h.js
there isn't enough rockstar!han jisung smut on here soo...
warnings: porn w/ basically no plot (but make it stupidly romantic), explicit sexual content, dom!jisung, sub!reader, oral (f receiving), slight degradation, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, rough sex, overstimulation, cum eating, kinda corruption kink. 2.5k words, mdni.
Jisung is a different person when he is performing. He’s instantly in his own element, confident, cocky, almost, always having just enough time to shoot his audience a flirty grin. On stage, he makes the spotlight look easy, and to him, it really does feel so simple in that moment.
All he has to do is imagine that you’re right up there with him, that his fingers strumming the nimble guitar strings are skimming your skin instead, that his hands so tightly holding the mic are gripping your hips instead. The lights around him fade into a mist, all of those eyes taking him in when there’s really only one pair that he truly cares about.
There you are, your body draped over the railing while you sway along to the set, your smile radiating with pride. A room full of other people, and there's only you. Jisung looks only at you, looks at the way you mouth along with every single lyric that Jisung and his bandmates sing, the way you tuck your chin into your palms, dreamily gazing at him.
In the intimate confines of the theater that he chose for his venue, he can make out just how stunning you are; the curtain bangs that he cut for you himself are plastered against your forehead in perspiration, the curves of your body shadowed under the hazy lighting. You raise your arms up with the rest of the crowd to cheer, and in doing so, the too-short skirt you’re wearing lifts up, exposing the smooth skin of your thighs, driving Jisung absolutely crazy.
You’re his sweet, sweet girl, and you don’t even know what you to do him.
The show has ended, and he’s now tugging you into an empty dressing room backstage, the door barely closing before he’s slamming you up against it and claiming you with his mouth, everywhere and anywhere. The scent of your peony body wash is stuck to his mind, the way you slowly card your fingers through his hair tattooed on his heart. The gentle kisses he places along the arch of your neck juxtapose the movement of his hands on your body, rough and demanding.
In a moment of vast self control, Jisung pulls back to rest his forehead against yours, properly looking at you for the first time tonight. You stare back up at him curiously, your bottom lip taken between your teeth in heady anticipation. Fuck, you’re cute.
Earlier today, Jisung had witnessed you get ready for the show, dolling yourself up for the opening night of the tour that he’d postponed for far too long after getting distracted by other things. You— that said distraction— had bent over the bathroom sink, trying to get ready and getting adorably disgruntled when your hair didn’t suit your taste, while an amused Jisung slumped against the shower door, just watching.
The black eyeliner you had so painstakingly rubbed on is now slightly smudged, glitter shimmering prettily on your lids; the whole effect makes your doe eyes look even bigger, making you look more innocent than Jisung knows you to be. After all, cherry gloss is now messily stained on your lips, your cheeks tinted a rosy blush, all courtesy of him. You’re his masterpiece, his work of art. You’re his.
“I miss you,” Jisung mumbles, capturing your lips with his own once again, savoring the way you so quickly fall into him, running the tips of your fingers up his back.
You giggle into his mouth, a sound that sends shivers down his spine in the best way. “You have me.”
“But I’ll be leaving soon,” Jisung responds sadly. Tomorrow, he’ll be on a flight to another irrelevant city, somewhere you won’t be.
“I’ll call everyday. We’ll do skincare on FaceTime. And I’ll spill all the work gossip,” you whisper theatrically, making Jisung smile like an idiot. “Besides, we still have tonight.”
The unintentional sultriness of your last few words go straight to Jisung’s cock, reminding him of the few hours that you both had left. He decides that he’ll make it count.
It’s why Jisung lets you push his blazer off of his shoulders, ridding him of another piece of pesky clothing separating the both of you. You don’t get the chance to do the same with his slacks, before he’s gripping the backs of your thighs, pulling you up into his arms to move somewhere more convenient for his plans.
He moves fast, sparing no words to keep back all of those emotions that threaten to spill off of his tongue. You have that effect on Jisung, to unravel the parts of him that he can just never bring himself to convey. He can’t let you have that power today, not when the smallest assurance will have him rooting his feet in the ground, refusing to go without you.
Jisung gently lays you down on the sofa, taking utmost care with what is most precious to him. He flips up your skirt with haste, pausing when he realizes that you aren’t wearing anything underneath. Your bare cunt glistens in the dimmed lights of the room, and you smirk, knowing your action has had its intended effect. Jisung aches for the strength to crawl back to where his jacket has been discarded, to pull out his phone camera and immortalize that tantalizing gloss on your folds.
“Since when did my sweet girl become such a slut?”
Even now, he can’t help the affection dripping from his tone. But it’s a question that Jisung doesn’t expect a reply to, especially when he’s suddenly launching forward and burying his head in between your supple thighs. He flattens his tongue and licks a stripe through your pussy, down from your clit to your entrance, collecting your arousal on his lips. You moan and grab onto his locks, bucking up into Jisung’s mouth.
How many details of tonight would he retain? The memories that would accompany him during lonely nights in empty hotel rooms, the thoughts that would have him inappropriately zoning out during interviews?
There’s your taste that has got him insane, a lovely tang that’s more potent than any of the pre-show shots that Jisung had downed with the band. Your divine, musky scent that Jisung wishes he could capture in a bottle, a fragrance more priceless than any coveted perfume. The answer is: all of it, everything. From the first night that he had made you his, he couldn’t ever forget a single thing about you.
And Jisung cherishes the soft noises that you make when he kitten-licks at your cunt— but he can do better than that. He wants you to scream for him, for everyone to hear how good only he can make you feel. He clamps his fingers tight onto your legs, forcing them further apart as he dives in with full force. He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking hard, eliciting a broken cry from you.
“Jisung… please,” you whimper, clutching at his hair; Jisung has to bite back a moan at the sensation, at how much he loves it when you’re reckless with his body.
“Please what, baby?” Jisung nearly mocks you while his gaze is fixed on the way your beautiful features are twisted in utter pleasure. He skillfully hooks two fingers into you, all the while knowing what you really want. After all, what use are his hands when they aren’t grasping your hips as you ride him, his mouth when he isn’t kissing you while he fucks you? “Want my cock, don’t you? So, so desperate for it, aren’t you? Isn’t this enough for you?”
You shake your head, closing your eyes when Jisung leans forward again, placing a tender kiss on your pussy, as if to promise you that in spite of his harsh words, he could never be truly hard on you. “Need you so bad. Please, please, Jisung.”
And you might have given Jisung all of the control, but he never actually has it, not when just a few words from you can make him fold so easily, when his only purpose is to fulfill your wishes and give you all that you want. “There we go, sweetheart. Since you’ve asked so nicely.”
In truth, you could have fucking spat a command at him and he’d obey, a scenario that he’ll tuck away for when he wants to try a different dynamic with you, but he won’t let you know that right now. Instead, Jisung rises to his feet, deftly unbuckling his belt with one hand while swiftly undoing your ponytail, freeing your luscious hair from its tight hold.
You sit up when Jisung lowers himself, reaching for his tie and pulling him to you with it. You kiss him frantically, like you’re drowning and he’s the air that’s saving you, and therein, Jisung briefly considers the possibility of you wanting him just as much as you do.
But it’s impossible— Jisung knows that his love for you is unmatched, that not even you can rival it. Maybe he’s stubborn, maybe he’s whipped, but he’s right. He’d move heaven and Earth, steal a star from the sky and trap moonlight within his palms, all for you if you simply just asked.
Jisung groans as he sinks his cock into your heat, relishing in how tight you are around him, how you clench when he snaps forward. “God, you’re perfect. Made just for me. All for me.”
Ever his sweet, sweet girl, you intertwine your hands in Jisung’s, sucking in a sharp breath when he hits that particular spot inside of you. “You- you feel so good, Ji.”
Jisung can’t help the next words out of his mouth, the ones that have been repeated so dizzyingly often on his end. But he wants it, wants to adore you and be vulnerable with you.
“I love you.”
He cups your cheeks and looks deep into your eyes so that you remember it, for those times in the heavily impending future that he can’t say it all the time anymore, when you’re alone, and you miss him. Because he wants you to know that you’re never really alone, not when he’s thinking of you with every breath he takes.
He is so gone for you, so painfully in love with you. Jisung, who never thought himself capable of such a gift, loves you with everything that he is. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you. And if those three words pledging himself to you may never be enough, he’ll spend the rest of his life trying to prove it to you.
Jisung reaches his hand down, rubbing circles onto your clit and moving you even further, to that climax that probably doesn’t represent even half of the euphoria he feels when he’s around you. You gasp, delicate tears trailing down the sides of your face with how he’s taking you. “I love you too, always.”
Your response, no matter how many times he’s heard it, doesn’t fail to spark that giddy feeling in his limbs, the pure joy in his heart. Here you are, long hair spread like a halo against the back of the couch, strands soft against Jisung’s exposed skin. You look like a goddess, chest heaving up and down, plush lips parted with lust. And Jisung will gladly worship at your altar for as long as you desire him to.
Sometimes, he’ll fantasize about letting his bandmates take their turns with you, about showing you off to his closest friends and giving them an idea of the heaven he is in everytime that he touches you. Maybe he’d kiss you while Minho eats your pussy, or get himself off while Felix has his way with you. It’s what he should do for his brothers, isn’t it? Share with them what makes him the most happy?
But Jisung has always been a possessive man, and he’s reminded of how greedy he really is when you’re under him like this, looking up at him with wide eyes. No, he could never let the others have you. You’re his.
The thought sends Jisung into an electrifying sort of rage, one that has him mercilessly ramming his hips into yours. He focuses on how you suck him in, so wet, so warm, and how your eyebrows are scrunched together in ecstasy. Your sighs wash over him like cool water, your legs around his waist and caging him in, just like what you’ve done to his heart.
With one final thrust, you come undone as you both moan into each other’s mouths, raw and uninhibited. Your body spasms in Jisung’s arms while he holds you tight, tracing his palms down the sides of your arms, calming you down. Before you can blink, still dazed, Jisung is pulling out. He throws his head back and fists himself to his own orgasm, body tightening in urgence. Stripes of his release paint your pretty little cunt— you the canvas, and him, your devoted artist.
Breathing ragged from how fucked-out he is, he kneels in front of you once more, reveling in the surprised mewl you let out. Carefully, Jisung licks his own come from your pussy, cleaning you up in a way that feeds his selfish desire to have you even more. Your body reacts to the overstimulation in cute, slight jolts, legs attempting to close, but Jisung holds them open until he finishes what he’s started.
When he’s finally had his fill, he places a soft kiss to your inner thigh, before pulling your skirt down and fixing his pants. He lies down on the sofa next to you, drawing your head onto his chest, where you might just be able to hear how fast his heart beats for you, even in the aftermath of the more exciting events of the night. Because here you are, looking unbelievably beautiful even after Jisung has so lovingly ruined you.
In the silence that follows, you start to cry again, the sobs escaping your throat, the tears this time more meaningful this time. Jisung immediately smooths the hair off of your forehead, trying his best to wipe the tears from your flushed skin.
“Hey, hey, hey. Baby, what’s wrong?” Jisung asks you, concerned. He hates when there’s anything other than happiness in your beautiful eyes. “I’m here, I’m right here.”
“I’m just really going to miss you,” you whisper, sniffling. “And I know I said we’d call, but WiFi on the road is really sucky…”
Jisung melts right there. His heart is heavy, yes, but not just with the sorrow of having to leave you. He’s content, happy beyond words. Never before has he felt so tied down somewhere, that need to run with stability. He’d never thought he’d live to see a day in which he’d want to stay, and especially not because of someone who brightens his life beyond any sun.
“We’ll get through it. Sucky WiFi, late nights, and all. You can’t get rid of me that easily, darling.”
You let out a watery laugh and close your eyes. “Come back to me soon, okay? I love you.”
Jisung kisses you deeply, his own tears trickling down his cheeks. He’s weak, he’s so, so weak for you. And he doesn’t mind it, not when all of the strength he’d ever need is right here in his arms.
And I love you so much. My sweet, sweet girl.”
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twenty-one — bad
fuck ur instincts — suna x reader & atsumu x reader
you and suna are just fooling around—so why does he care so much when you start falling in love with someone else?
previous — masterlist — next
word count. 1.6k
content. swearing, marijuana use, alcohol consumption, ANGST ANGST ANGST
When Atsumu drops you off at the airport that morning, he has no idea how the rest of the day is going to go. He has no idea that everything is going to go wrong.
“I’m gonna miss ya,” he tells you, pouting as he pulls you into a tight embrace. “Don’t forget about me.”
You roll your eyes, pecking his lips. “It’s literally three days, baby,” you remind him.
He grimaces. “Don’t even remind me,” he says. “Way too long without ya.”
“You’re such a drama queen.”
“Yer not dramatic enough.”
You chuckle, pulling him in again and placing a kiss on his jaw. “Have fun tonight.”
“I’ll try.” He sighs, finally letting you go. His eyes scan your figure, as if he’s checking to see that you have everything you need. He can’t help but worry about you. “Text me when ya get there.”
You pull the handle of your luggage and offer him one last smile. “I’ll text you the whole time.”
He watches you turn and walk through the gates, waving at him as you skip away. He knows you’ll be back soon, but he’s gotten a little used to your presence—he won’t deny that it’ll be weird to not have you around for a few days.
As he heads back to his car, Atsumu takes comfort in the fact that everything will be back to normal when you return… right?
It’s times like these that Atsumu remembers why the volleyball team doesn’t party together that much. Individually, they’re all a little explosive. Bokuto manages to rile everyone up, Sakusa gets spectacularly drunk and does stupid things, and Oikawa always ends up stripping in a room full of strangers.
When you put them all together? Chaos. Absolute chaos.
“We’re lockin’ the balcony!” Atsumu announces, dragging a giggling Hinata and a dour Hoshiumi back into the living room. He gives the boys a pointed look. “You two need to stop screamin’ at the neighbors!”
The orange-haired boy just grins. “But they were asking for it!”
Hoshiumi points at him, nodding in agreement. “They were, weren't they?” he says. “Assholes.”
Atsumu runs a hand over his face and groans. “Just… stop goin’ outside.”
They promise him they won't—rather unconvincingly, but he doesn’t have it in him to point that out—and they scurry away to join the rest of the party.
“Told ya a party was a bad idea,” Osamu says, coming up to him and placing a bottle of beer in his hands. “Drink up.”
Atsumu takes a swig. Unlike most people, he actually likes the taste of alcohol. The bitterness of it, the lingering aftertaste. He just doesn’t think it’s worth all the trouble of losing control of yourself and waking up with a headache. It’s why he stays away from it when he can.
He pats his brother on the back and walks over to the living room where Oikawa is performing a rousing rendition of WAP in blind karaoke. On the couch, Yaku heckles the setter while trying to keep Sakusa from collapsing. The coffee table has two empty bottles of tequila and another one that’s nearly polished off. Figures.
“How’s it goin’?” Atsumu asks, laughing as Oikawa death drops while belting the lyrics at the top of his lungs.
Yaku smiles at him through half-lidded eyes. “Atsumu!” he cheers in a weak voice. “Great party, man.”
“Ya think?”
The boy hums, catching Sakusa as he nods off again. “Great, great. Good idea for the team too. Haven’t hung out like this in ages.”
“Yeah, I wonder why,” Atsumu says. He scans the area and frowns. “Hey, have ya seen Suna?”
“Suna?” Yaku repeats, as if saying the name again will somehow jog his memory. “Oh! Right, Suna. Yeah. I think I remember him saying he was going up to the roof.”
The blond frowns. “The roof? By himself?”
“Dunno, man. Probably.” Yaku catches Sakusa again as the boy nearly slides off the couch. “You gonna go to him?”
Atsumu sips his drink and nods. “Yeah, I’ll check up on him.”
Oikawa finishes his song and starts demanding requests from everyone else, Bokuto comes barreling over and reciting a whole list of songs he wants to hear. The whole room swirls with alcohol and madness. Just another day with the team.
Atsumu heads out, ducking his way through the crowd of people, avoiding Ushijima and Kageyama—who are in deep conversation about something and really want everyone else to join in—and sneaking up the stairs to the rooftop.
He finds Suna lying down on the concrete, a blunt between his lips and a solo cup of Bokuto’s “Super Strong, Super Crazy, Super Wild Drink” in his hand.
“Can’t believe yer havin’ a party up here without us,” Atsumu says, sitting down beside him and plucking the blunt from his mouth. He takes a hit and tilts his head up to the sky. It’s empty, devoid of any stars. Typical Tokyo. “Whatcha doin’ up here?”
Suna shrugs. “Stole some of Aran’s stash. Didn’t want him to find out.”
“Smart thinking.”
“That is what I’m known for.”
The twin laughs, lowering his back to lie down beside his friend. “How have ya been?” he asks. “I barely see ya anymore.”
Suna makes a sound he can’t quite decipher. “Well, you’ve been busy.”
“I have?”
“Yeah. With Y/N.”
Atsumu’s eyes flit over to the side to find the brunette frowning, eyes narrowed. He guffaws. “Are ya jealous of her or somethin’?”
“Haha.”
“Come on, Sunarin. What’s up?” Atsumu prods. “I hear yer spendin’ time with that girl from the econ department. Things gettin’ serious?”
Suna stays silent. He doesn’t know if it’s the nasty concoction he’s been drinking or the weed or just the close proximity to Atsumu—Atsumu, your boyfriend—but he can feel himself growing overwhelmed, choking on the very air he breathes.
“Sunarin?” Atsumu asks, turning his head to face him. “Oh fuck. Are ya cryin’?”
“What? No!” His face twists as he looks away from his friend. “Shut up!”
“No, no, no, hey, it’s okay! Cryin’s okay!”
“No, it’s not!”
“But it is!” the blond insists. He nudges Suna with his shoulder. “Talk to me.”
Suna rubs at his face, the skin growing an angry shade of red at the roughness of his touch. “Fuck you.”
“I mean, if sayin’ that makes ya feel better, go ahead.”
That only makes Suna feel worse. “Fuck you, man. Seriously.”
“Okay.”
“I hate you.”
“Sure.”
“Fucking fuck you.”
“Let it out, man. Not gonna stand in yer way.”
They lie down for a while, neither of them saying a word. They pass the blunt between the two of them, chasing each hit with alcohol until they stop feeling like themselves. Atsumu talks first, Suna talks soon after, the conversation flows easily between the two of them—like it always does. Only a lone bird passing through the night sky serves as a weak reminder of where they are.
“It’s just so big, isn’t it?” Atsumu says, his eyes closing a little. “Y’know. Life.”
Suna snorts. “Yeah, life is big, man. Always has been.”
“No, but ya know, it’s so… big! And real. Feels so real.”
“I think I get that.”
Atsumu takes a hit and closes his eyes completely. He lets himself seep into the sensation of the ground beneath him. The chill night air.
“Y/N’s real,” he says eventually. “She’s so fuckin’ real.”
“She is,” Suna answers. Somehow, the sting of your name is gone. Somehow, he doesn’t feel like burning at the sound of it. “She’s so real... it’s like she burns so bright.”
“Yeah! So bright.”
“Everything about her is perfect.”
“Really is.”
“Like that face she makes when she puts on her eyeliner, all scrunched up when she looks in the mirror.”
Atsumu stills. “Right.”
Suna can’t stop. He doesn’t stop. “Or the way she stays in the shower for too long and complains when her fingers get all pruny. Or how she makes those little sounds when you’re right beside her ear—it’s just… everything she does can just drive someone insane.”
The sober part of Atsumu tells him that this conversation has taken a strange turn. That there’s something very wrong about the way his best friend is talking about you, his best friend who you’ve barely even spent time with. He tries to listen to that part of himself, keeping it in the forefront of his mind.
“Yeah…” he says, opening his eyes, on high alert. “Sure, man.”
Now, what you have to understand about what Suna says next is that he tried. He tried so hard. He tried for two whole months of you and Atsumu’s relationship. Fuck, he’s been trying for even longer—since he saw you and Atsumu at that party, the night he fucked you in the bathroom just to convince himself he still had you. He tried so hard. It ripped him apart, but he tried.
He tried and he tried, but something in him couldn’t let it go.
Something in him stopped trying.
“I love her.”
Atsumu bolts up, seeing red when he turns to look at Suna still lying down. “What the fuck are ya talkin’ about?”
Suna sits up too. “Atsumu, I love Y/N,” he says like he’s pleading. “You don’t understand. It all happened before you even met her. I love her. I love her so fucking much that it’s eating me alive.”
“Yer drunk.”
“Atsumu.”
“Shut the fuck up!”
“I love her.”
The blond gets up and storms off, slamming the door to the rooftop behind him.
“Fuck,” Suna whispers to himself. He places his head in his hands and lets out a frustrated groan. “Fuck!”
On the other side of the door, Atsumu punches the wall by the stairs. “What the fuck!” he yells, pulling his hand away to find splatters of blood on his knuckles. “What the actual fuck!”
He had no idea how this night was going to go. He figured it wouldn’t be too great. But he didn’t know it would be this bad.
Nobody could have known it was going to be this bad.
notes. i present… le shit storm!!!!! and the continued shit storm in the next chapters lmao
how are we all feeling???
#hqbaby.fyi#hqbaby#haikyuu#suna rintarou#suna#suna rintarou x reader#suna x reader#miya atsumu#atsumu#miya atsumu x reader#atsumu x reader#haikyuu x reader#suna rintarou fic#suna fic#miya atsumu fic#atsumu fic#haikyuu fic
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found this and immediately thought of 45+ yo girldad!rockstar!eddie who has to deal with this in conjunction with being on tour so his concert is interrupted by his little girl singing a heavy metal cover of do you want to build a snowman to a crowd of rowdy old rockers who go absolutely apeshit for it, mom!reader being backstage laughing her ass off but also just so proud yk
I’m not sure if you meant this as a request or not, but I absolutely needed to write it lol. Please enjoy some rockstar and dad!eddie 💖
Words: 1.1k
Concerts are loud. Metal concerts are even louder. Standing backstage, your three-year-old daughter in your arms, you're jealous of the giant pink headphones she’s wearing over her dark spiral curls. It’s become a regular occurrence for you to tease your husband that he’s going to need a hearing aid even sooner than you thought. He just grumbles a response about how you weren’t calling him old in bed last night.
Little Elena bobs up and down in your arms, staring out at her daddy from where you two are on the side of the stage. It’s almost the end of Corroded Coffin’s set, so Eddie is dripping sweat as his voice soars through the speakers and his guitar notes ring throughout the whole venue. Most nights Elena would be back in the tour bus or hotel room, Jeff’s teenage daughter looking after her until you and Eddie got back after the show. Tonight, Jeff’s daughter had a date so you and Eddie decided she could stay up late to watch her daddy do his thing on stage.
“Daddy!” she keeps shouting in between songs, her little hands slapping together as she applauds. Eddie can’t hear her, but he looks back at her every once in a while, and gives her a wink. Elena giggles whenever she catches her daddy’s eye, always a daddy’s girl.
“This next song, uh,” Eddie starts as he adjusts the strap of his guitar.
“Daddy!” Elena’s squeal was timed perfectly with Eddie’s pause. He can hear her shrill call and chuckles to himself.
“Okay, hold on. Hold on. Before we play our next song, there’s someone I’d like you to say hello to.” Eddie nods for a stagehand to come over and he hands his guitar to the younger guy. The crowd is murmuring and rumbling, wondering what Eddie is up to now. Over his decades performing for crowds, Eddie Munson was known for pulling wild stunts like doing trick jumps off of amps or mooning the audience. Once he turned forty though, the antics began to calm. Then when he met you, he toned it down even more. Of course, the gossip magazines tried to blame you, saying that the rock star’s new young girlfriend is trying to control and tame him, when in reality, Eddie decided to be cautious because he wanted to be there for you and spend his life with you. Since Elena was born, Eddie hadn’t pulled one dangerous stunt.
Now, your husband approaches you, eyes lit up in glee as your daughter makes grabby hands for him. He gladly scoops her into his arms and presses a soft kiss to your lips.
“Wanna say hi to the crowd, baby?” Eddie asks your daughter. She can’t quite hear what he’s saying because of the headphones, but she gets what he means by his gestures. A sheepish smile comes over her face, but she nods her head. “What about you, gorgeous?”
Your eyes widen when Eddie looks at you questioningly. “No, no! God, no.”
Eddie laughs and presses another kiss to your lips before bringing Elena out to center stage. The crowd is full of awes and laughter as your husband stands with the tiny girl in front of the microphone.
“I’d like to introduce my daughter, little Elena Munson. You wanna say hi, princess?”
Her large brown eyes take in the crowd in front of her before she hides her face in her father’s sweaty neck, her own dark curls blending in with his. Eddie chuckles along with the crowd and he rubs his hand up and down her tiny back. When the audience begins to cheer, she peeks her face out from the curtain of brown curls and a smile spreads over her mouth, identical to her dad’s.
“Right here in the microphone,” Eddie tells her, pointing for emphasis. “Just say hi.”
Slowly, Elena leans in and from the side of the stage, you hold your breath as you prepare for her high-pitched toddler voice to boom out of the speakers.
“Do you wanna build a snow maaaaan? C’mon let's go and plaaaaay!”
The metal concert goers go crazy, cheering and screaming for the little girl’s singing. She’s only encouraged by their reaction, her grin growing as she becomes more confident.
“I never see you anymo! Come out the door! S’like you’ve gone awaaay!”
Eddie is partly exasperated at hearing the song for the upteenth time this week but is mostly filled with complete adoration as he watches his mini-me be an absolute ham for the audience.
“We use ta be best buddies! But now we not. I wish you would tell me whyyyyy!”
Eddie looks over his shoulder to where you’re standing on the side of the stage. You’re laughing so hard that your stomach is cramping, and tears are rolling down your face. It never ceases to amaze you just how like your rock star husband Elena is. At seeing how much you’re enjoying this, Eddie’s joy only grows. In all his time as a performer, he thinks this might just be his favorite moment on stage.
“D’ya wanna build a snowmaaaan? It doesn’t have to be a snowman!”
Eddie leans in towards the microphone, raising his voice a few octaves to match the fictional princess.
“Go away, Anna!”
Elena giggles and squirms happily in her father’s arms, clearly delighted he’s playing along with her.”
“Otay, byyyye!”
“Elena Munson, ladies and gentlemen!” Eddie says. The crowd is deafening as they applaud the Disney song sung by the curly haired toddler. Eddie shows her how to bow, which she copies to the best of her abilities while in his arms.
Pressing kisses all over her face, Eddie brings Elena back over to you. His scruff scratches her face, and she squeals, trying to push him away.
“Let me give you kisses, baby girl!”
“Too rough!” Elena shouts.
She’s clearly pleased with her singing performance as you grab your daughter and squeeze her to your chest.
“You did so good, sweetie!” When you press kisses to her face, she doesn’t protest like she did for Eddie. “Mommy’s got two rock stars in the family, huh?”
“Ya!”
“I’ll see my girls after the last few songs. Kisses?”
You don’t hesitate to press your lips to his, but Elena looks skeptical.
“Rough,” she says.
“I’ll be gentle!” Eddie assures her. She nods and Eddie offers his cheek to her.
“Mwah!” Elena smacks a kiss to his cheek. Eddie grins and tugs on one of her spiral curls before running back out on stage and taking his guitar back from the stagehand.
“You have a lovely voice,” you tell Elena.
“I know,” she says simply, making you laugh.
Yeah, she’s just like her dad.
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#older!eddie#rockstar!eddie#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fanfic#request
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Hiii!! I just wanna request smthing‼‼
Imagine Skz with their Idol!s/o where their s/o is having their concert with their group and skz is just really proud of them 😣😣😣
SORRY IF THIS DOESNT MAKE ANY SENSE😭😭
(Also may I be 💗 anon? If yes, thank uu!!)
omg my first anon requesting to be called something?? yes ofc you can be 💗 anon!! 🥹
i took some liberties with some of these so they didn't get repetitive, i hope you don't mind!
this idea is so so cute! i hope you enjoy~
~~~
Bang Chan:
This was one of those moments were Chan was glad not to be recognized. From his place among the crowd of people, a mask and hat obscuring his face, he watched you perform.
You looked absolutely electric on stage. You were completely lost in the music, dancing your heart out, with your vocals on point. You were gorgeous, and he was lucky enough to be yours.
Chan giggled softly to himself, the sound being swallowed in the sea of cheers around him. His grin was wide and cheesy, and in any other setting he’d feel completely embarrassed to be smiling like that. But the pride in his heart in seeing you do what you loved, and do it so well, made him indescribably happy. You were his light, and you made sure to shine.
Chan watched until the end of the concert, admiring you and your talent from afar. During your group’s ending sentiments, he made his way backstage and waited for you there. He was practically buzzing with excitement.
Soon enough, he heard your voice mixed among your members’, and as the door to the stage opened, you came through it. You looked tired, but you were smiling and laughing, joking about something that happened on stage. Chan watched you, a soft smile on his face as he waited for you to notice him.
Your eyes found his soon after, and before he could realize what happened, you had thrown yourself into his arms. Chan embraced you quickly, pressing kisses to your hair as your burrowed into the crook of his neck, your arms wrapped around his waist. Vaguely, he heard your members oohing and aweing, but he was focused on you and you only.
“Hi baby,” he murmured into your hair. “I’m so proud of you.”
Lee Know:
Minho was never obvious with his emotions, especially when he was feeling vulnerable. He took pride in being disciplined enough to control himself in most emotional situations, which he frequently bragged about to his members (especially the “cry babies”). Unfortunately for him, he was still human.
That was how he found himself backstage after your group’s show, trying his best to hold himself together while waiting for you. This was the kick off of your first world tour, starting in Korea. This venue had been the biggest you’d performed in to date, and Minho was feeling a whole bunch of mixed emotions about this.
One one hand, he was the proudest he’d ever been. You were doing it- making your dream a reality. Ever since he met you at his former dance studio, you’d only ever wanted to be an idol. You loved to dance. You were learning to sing. The two of you were similar in that way. Minho had joined Stray Kids much before you debuted, but still he kept in close contact with you since then. And now, 5 years later, you had both achieved your dreams. And fell in love in the process.
On the other hand, he was really gonna miss you while you were gone on your touring schedule.
Minho had texted you before the concert, wishing you luck and telling you to find him after. You had responded back with a cat emoji, a wordless promise to come see him first as soon as you were off stage. As the door opened to the green room, you came rushing through it. Minho didn’t waste any time, meeting you halfway and wrapping you up in his arms.
You were giggling, breathless, as you hugged him back. “Hi Minnie- did you like it?” You asked softly, voice right next to his ear.
Minho shivered at the feeling, and simply nodded into your shoulder. He felt himself begin to splinter at the edges, and soon enough he was shaking with shallow sobs as he held you. One of your hands threaded into his hair, rubbing comfortingly.
You pulled away and brushed some hair from his red, teary eyes. “Why are you crying, my love?” Your eyes were soft and you looked radiant. There were so many words Minho wanted to say, but he settled on just a couple for now.
“I’m just so proud of you, honey… you did it.”
Changbin:
The air was practically buzzing around him as Changbin watched your solo performance. All those long nights spent together going over the rap portions of it, how your flow would change, which words you would emphasize... it was all for this. Your solo debut.
In your group, technically you were a dancer. You never had much vocal or rap training prior to your debut, and since then it had been a frequent topic of discussion among your fans. Could you sing? Could you rap? Why didn't you ever get a single line to yourself in your songs? All of these questions rasped at your confidence, until finally you asked someone for help.
You were lucky enough to have Changbin as a fellow JYPE idol, and you contacted him for to see if he could help you out. When he responded, you weren't expecting him to be quite so willing. Over the next couple months, he helped you write, practice, and produce your very own solo rap song. He was so knowledgable, and he gave his help without expecting anything in return.
You sometimes think that's what made you fall in love with him.
The words seemed to flow from your mouth as if your lips were never meant to say anything else. As you leap from one verse to another, you felt your confidence soar, knowing somewhere in the crowd was your Binnie. After everything he had given you, you knew you had to put your all into this performance.
As the last words left your mouth, perfectly ending the with the trap beat, you were met with thunderous applause. You bowed and waved, making your way off stage to allow your other members their turn in the spotlight. Once you were completely hidden within the wings, you were snatched up in a bone-crushing hug by none other than your dark rapper.
You let out a soft laugh, squeezing Changbin back tightly. A whispered question filled the air between you two. "How'd I do?"
Changbin couldn't help but giggle his goofy giggle, pulling away to press a kiss to your lips. "You were perfect. Binnie's so proud of you."
Hyunjin:
The videos playing from his phone didn't do you justice, Hyunjin knew that. Unfortunately, from half a world away, that was all he had at the moment. Stray Kids had been on a tour for the last three months, and he was currently in California instead of Seoul. He would much rather be in Seoul.
Your family had been kind enough to record your best moments and send them over to him. It was bittersweet watching you from his phone. The audio was tinny and strange, but he still heard your beautiful voice shine through. The video quality was poor, but he could still make out the features of your face that he was so in love with. He just wished he could've been there in person.
The digital hotel clock blared at him in the dark. It was nearing 6am. Hyunjin sighed, knowing he should still be sleeping. Instead, he opened your text thread, thumbing through the messages glumly.
You had last texted him around 8pm, telling him to get some sleep. He didn't, not really. You occupied his thoughts day and night, especially when he was so far from you.
Hyunjin frowned slightly at his screen, beginning to type out a text to you before he paused, instead clicking the small phone icon. The line rung... and rung... and rung...
You must have your phone off still.
After your voicemail greeting finished and the little beep sounded, Hyunjin started speaking.
"Hi my love," his voice sounded froggy from nonuse. Hyunjin cleared his throat softly before continuing. "How are you? I saw some videos of your performance. You were amazing, really. You sounded so beautiful when you sang, and you looked even better... how did I get so lucky?" He asked, wishing he could actually hear you respond.
"I miss you a lot. But we'll be home soon, I hope. Wish me luck, okay love? I want to do my best for you." Hyunjin glanced at the clock again. "It's getting late for you, hm? I'll let you go. I love you and I'm always proud of you. Never forget that."
Han:
Han was so glad to be home. Stray Kids had just finished a tour and had a couple days to rest and recuperate before their schedule continued. It was good timing too, because you ended up hurting yourself in your group's rehearsal just a day before. Now he could stay home and take care of you.
You were so happy to spend time with your boyfriend, but you couldn't help but wish it was under different circumstances. Your group had be rehearsing for a music show performance, and now that you were injured, you couldn't be there. It felt like you let your members down, even if it wasn't really your fault. Someone had spilled water and you slipped and fell while dancing.
Now you were couch-ridden with a sprained ankle and you couldn't dance for another week.
Han hated to see you so down. While he had time off, he brought you whatever you wanted and made sure to fit in ample cuddle time. You were thankful, but did feel a bit bad that this was how he was spending his time off. Han assured you over and over that he was just glad to be home with you until you had to believe him. You knew he had your back.
Tonight was no different, but it was the night of your group's performance at the music show, and you were feeling sadder than ever.
Han held you close to him on the couch, rubbing your arm comfortingly and dropping soft kisses on your forehead as the two of you watched your group. You sniffled a bit as you watched, feeling so happy for your members but also insanely guilty for not being there. And maybe a bit jealous. After the performance ended, Han paused the TV.
"Honey, look at me?" He asked softly and you did. Your eyes were slightly teary. "Baby, you know you're still a part of your group, right? You may be hurt now, but you should just focus on getting better, okay?" You nodded, pouting a bit. Han giggled at you and kissed your pout away.
"I'm proud of you, okay? Always."
Felix:
Anxiety sat heavy in Felix's stomach as the lights began to flash on the stage, signaling the start of your debut performance as a soloist. You had been working towards this for months, and he just wanted you to do well.
After your group disbanded due to controversy with some of the other members earlier in the year, you decided to continue your career as a soloist. It was a big step, seeing as you had never performed without a group, let alone debuted without one. The public had mixed thoughts on the matter, so really it all depended on how well your performance was received. You had to do well.
Felix knew you would, even if he was nervous for you.
He watched as you stepped out onto stage, lights illuminating your face in various colorful shades. The catchy beat started, and you began to sing. Immediately he knew you'd be okay. You absolutely shined on stage, and it was especially apparent now that you were alone. Felix couldn't help but laugh in astonishment as he realized that your group had been holding you back.
You had the entire crowd wrapped around your finger as your song finished and you were met with thunderous applause. The sea of people was practically glowing with how many light sticks being held up. They loved you.
Felix was backstage before he could blink, immediately finding you in the small crowd of crew and other performers. He just about ran to you, wrapping you up in the biggest hug he could muster. You laughed gleefully into his ear, hugging him back. Felix laughed too, swaying you back and forth. When you pulled away, your smile was nearly blinding.
"I'm assuming you liked it?" You asked, even though it wasn't really a question you needed him to answer.
Felix smiled and grabbed your hands. "That was the best I've ever seen you perform. You were made to be a soloist, baby. You owned that stage." You blushed a bit at his gushing, leaning forward to hide your face in his shoulder. Felix laughed his deep laugh and kissed the side of your head. "I'm seriously so proud of you..."
Seungmin:
Seungmin always loved your voice. You had such a way of speaking- it was unique. When you spoke to him, sometimes it felt like he was hearing the words you used for the first time. That was probably part of the reason why you were such a talented rapper. You stood out because of your interesting tone and inflection, and you quickly boosted your group to fame once the public realized what a gem you are.
But the thing was, you only ever rapped.
Sure you could dance and do supporting vocals during the choruses of your group's songs, but you never sang. Except for now, that is. You had been given a chorus to sing all by yourself. You nearly threw up when you were told about it.
Luckily, you just happened to be dating a vocalist, and Seungmin was more than happy to help you out.
He may be teasing sometimes, but truly he only ever wanted good things for you. Especially if you were going to be vulnerable enough to sing in front of thousands of people. So he helped you out, meeting whenever you both had time to practice the chorus.
Once you got the pitch down, you sounded good. Seungmin knew you would.
Now he was watching you perform probably for the dozenth time, but it almost felt like the first. He finally got to hear you sing on stage. And when you finally did, you sounded heavenly. Of course you did, you were his angel.
As soon as the concert ended, he was rushing backstage. He caught you just as you were stepping into the green room and he called out your name. You turned towards him with exhaustion clear on your features, yet you still managed to beam at him once you saw who it was that called out to you.
"Seungmin!" You exclaimed, embracing him in a tight hug once he as close enough to do so. "Hi baby..." You murmured softly, just so he could hear.
Seungmin's face burned as he pulled away, smiling at you joyfully. "You sounded amazing." He said bluntly, causing you to laugh and press a quick kiss to his lips.
"You mean it?" You asked, fiddling with the fabric of his suit jacket.
Seungmin bit back a smile and rolled his eyes. "Of course. I'm so, so proud of you."
I.N:
It was a well known fact that the stage was the worst place to make a mistake. You could always do another take when you were recording vocals or shooting an MV, and in practice it just meant you needed to practice harder. The stage was unforgivable, though. You didn't get a do-over.
And everyone was bound to mess up eventually.
Jeongin knew that. He had messed up on stage, as had all of his members. A couple of his mistakes still left a pit in his stomach when he thought about them. No one was safe from human error, after all.
You might've jinxed yourself by thinking the opposite.
Tonight's performance was televised, which was new for you and your group. It meant that a lot more people would be watching you than you were used to, and it also meant that you had no idea how they would react. That not knowing is what scared you.
You tried to calm your nerves, reminding yourself that this was a song you had performed a lot before. It was in a good vocal range for you, and when you had to belt in the chorus, you always nailed it. It would be okay, right?
Wrong. So very wrong.
As you approached the climax of the verse, your voice completely gave way beneath you. You had messed up. It felt as if everything went quiet before you realized you were still on stage and you had to keep going. You did, but hurried off stage as soon as the lights went dark.
Your members tried to comfort you, but you didn't want to hear it. It felt as if you were drowning. How did you mess up so badly? You knew that song so well... what happened?
You nearly collapsed in on yourself before Jeongin found you, makeup staining your cheeks as you sobbed. He said nothing, just wrapped you in his arms and told you that it was okay. He was here. You hugged him back and took deep breaths.
When you calmed down, Jeongin wiped at your cheeks and fixed your hair. He smiled at you and held your hand, saying just what you needed to hear. "No matter what, I'm proud of you. Don't doubt that."
#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids fluff#skz fluff#fluff#bang chan x reader#lee know x reader#lee minho x reader#changbin x reader#hyunjin x reader#han jisung x reader#lee felix x reader#seungmin x reader#jeongin x reader#i.n x reader#skzooweemama.asks#skzooweemama.writes#💗 anon
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Ren Faire (Eddie/Steve)
Summary: Steve, Eddie, and Robin go to a Renaissance Fair and see some interesting demonstrations. (This fic is for my lovely friend @gigglyrambles!! I literally just pulled this whole plot out of my ass and wrote it in one sitting, so I really hope you like it, LOL. Also, shoutout to @wordstrings because I know she has written something similar for Our Flag Means Death, I hope you don't mind me taking inspiration!!)
Steve isn’t sure how he ended up being dragged along to a Renaissance Fair with none other than Robin and Eddie, but he found it hard to say no to either of their puppy dog eyes and incessant begging.
His outfit is simple, consisting of a white, long-sleeved shirt with laces at the neckline, tight brown pants, and brown boots. He feels only a little bit ridiculous, but after seeing what his friends are wearing, he supposes he isn’t the weirdest looking one.
Eddie is decked out in black, an intricately detailed top with ruffles and buttons. A fake sword sits in a holder on his waist. Robin has gone for a more masculine look, a cloak over her shoulders and a bow and arrow in her hand.
“Screw historical accuracy,” she’d said.
“The fact that you’re a girl isn’t the problem, it’s that you couldn’t hit a moving target with an arrow to save your life,” Eddie had teased, and Robin had elbowed him in the ribs, making Steve laugh.
Now that they’ve arrived, Steve has relaxed a bit. He used to feel out of place whenever he attended events that he wouldn’t have been caught dead at in high school. Corroded Coffin concerts, DnD campaigns, and that one time he drove Eddie and Robin to the nearest gay bar in Indiana. It had definitely been more awkward sober, and before he realized that he’s bisexual, and could have totally had more fun if he’d been aware of and okay with that information at the time.
He’s sort of glad he wasn’t, though, because kissing Eddie Munson during a childish game of truth or dare was a much funnier way to have your queer awakening, and dating Eddie Munson is way more fun than hooking up with random guys in a bar.
“They have really good beer here,” Eddie comments, to which Steve holds up his car keys and jingles them. No medieval mead is going to keep him from being the designated driver.
“I can drive us home,” Robin says, absolutely joking, but Steve still gives her a horrified look and makes a show of sliding his keys back into his pocket, patting the denim for safe keeping. She sticks her tongue out at him, and he flicks her cheek.
Eddie does end up getting some beer, and Steve allows himself a few sips. They’ll be here for at least a few hours, he’ll surely sober up by then. He also samples the gigantic turkey leg that Eddie gets, and Robin wrinkles her nose in disgust at the messy nature of the food.
As they walk around, Steve finds himself getting into the spirit more than he had expected. They eat, watch musical performances, and shop at the little stalls set up by various vendors. Eddie buys a few rings for himself, and buys a handmade mug for Uncle Wayne. Robin indulges in candles and soaps, and even dares to see a fortune teller.
“She said that I’ll meet my future husband soon,” she says, giggling. “Clearly she’s a fraud, or she’d know I’m not interested.”
When Robin runs off to find a bathroom, somehow, Eddie and Steve end up standing around a demonstration about medieval punishments and torture, which Steve expects to be gruesome, and quickly finds he would rather hear gritty, gorey details than stand her and watch this happen.
A pretty girl, probably around their age, is locked into a pair of wooden stocks, and—
“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” Steve mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.
Eddie looks absolutely delighted as he leans in close. “What’s wrong, Stevie? The demonstration isn’t bothering you, is it?” he asks. His cheeks are flushed, too. A few months ago, Eddie would probably be the one stuttering and staring at the ground right now, but ever since he introduced this little world to Steve, he’s gained a confidence about it that only comes out when he gets to tease Steve into oblivion.
“Shut up.”
“You shut up, I’m trying to watch. Maybe I can get some pointers from these guys.”
‘These guys’ refers to the two men who have started tickling the girl’s trapped feet, and frantic giggles fill the air and make Steve’s stomach flip.
“Oh, she’s handling this better than you would,” Eddie continues to tease. “I’d already be called every insult under the sun if you couldn’t kick me instead.”
“I will kick you right now,” Steve threatens. It’s a complete lie. He’s frozen to the spot on the grass, torn between watching and focusing on the grass. Everyone else in the crowd is behaving like this is so normal, no big deal, just a silly show.
One of the men has moved behind the girl to tickle her ribs, her arms secured above her head. Steve crosses his arms over his chest, subconsciously protecting his own sensitive spots, like just watching her could tickle him, too.
“You love that spot,” Eddie coos. “You make the cutest sounds when I tickle you there.”
“I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you,” Steve grits out.
“Sure you will, sweetheart. Can it wait ‘til after I’ve made you cry real pretty for me?”
Just then, Robin appears at his side. “This looks like my worst nightmare,” she says. “I hope this girl is getting paid well.”
Steve makes a noise of agreement, but can’t bring himself to look over. Eddie Munson is going to be the fucking death of him. Thankfully, Robin is immediately bored of the display and drags them off to explore. Eddie subtly gives Steve’s side a quick pinch as he walks past him, and Steve suddenly can’t wait to go home.
***
“You are a fucking menace,” Steve accuses the moment they’ve made it through the door.
His parents aren’t home, Robin was dropped off back at her house, and now, Steve is alone with Eddie for the first time all day, and he refuses to voice how excited he is for whatever Eddie’s got planned.
But Eddie just grins, tugging off the more elaborate pieces of his costume, leaving himself in socks, boxers, and a white t-shirt. He makes his way to the kitchen, comes back with two cans of beer, sits on the couch like he isn’t ignoring the clear tension in the room.
Steve gapes at him for a minute before joining him on the couch, kicking off his boots and taking a beer as well. Maybe Eddie’s changed his mind…Maybe he just isn’t the mood, and Steve isn’t going to pressure him into anything.
But…Well, he has a sneaking suspicion that isn’t the case at all.
“If you’re waiting for me to ask, it’s not gonna happen,” he says.
“Ask for what?” Eddie tilts his head curiously, but there’s a glint in his eye that proves Steve’s theory.
“Nothing,” Steve replies, playing along. “All that talk back there just made me think you had a plan for when we got home. But if you’re not interested, that’s fine too.”
“Did you want me to have a plan?”
Steve huffs. “Maybe. But if you don’t, then let’s forget about it.”
“Oh, c’mon baby,” Eddie says, throwing an arm around Steve’s shoulders and pulling him close. “All you’ve gotta do is ask if you want it so bad.”
His cheeks burn. Stubborn as ever, he shakes his head.
Eddie sighs with exaggerated disappointment. “If you insist. I guess I’ll just keep my hands to myself tonight…”
“Good,” Steve says, and turns the television on.
It takes two beers and a stupid scene in a film to break him. It’s a quick, barely there tickle, but the character’s laugh makes Steve perk up like a dog hearing a doorbell ring.
“Fine,” he says.
“What’s fine?” Eddie asks.
“Just fucking tickle me, you dick.”
Eddie grins and wastes no time, lunging across the couch and pinning Steve to the cushions.
“I knew you’d crack eventually, sweetheart,” he teases. “Sorry we don’t have quite the same set up, but I’ll hold you down real nice, okay?”
Steve is already grinning. He can’t help it, he’s so lovestruck by his boyfriend and desperate to laugh his head off. And laugh he does when Eddie goes straight for his ribs, scratching at the dips between each little bone.
“There’s that pretty sound,” he says, pressing a kiss to Steve’s jaw that is both sweet and ticklish under the current circumstance.
The stupid shirt with the laces is pulled over his head and discarded on the floor, and Eddie pins Steve’s wrists and tells him to stay still before exploring each ticklish spot on his torso, making him shriek and cackle and snort like a fool.
He doesn’t stay still for very long, arms shooting down to his sides when Eddie attacks his belly with blunt fingernails, and Eddie scolds him but doesn’t stop.
As he squirms on the couch, giggling like mad, he wonders if they sell some of those bondage contraptions there. He thinks that they should go back to the Ren Faire sometime.
#steddie#steddie ticklefic#steddie tickle fic#stranger things ticklefic#stranger things tickle fic#stranger things tickling#steddie fic#steddie fluff#stranger things#tickle fic#ticklefic#raspberry writes
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Steve woke up to a loud noise from downstairs. He jumped out of bed, his heart pounding in his chest. He grabbed his bat, and slowly and quietly went down the stairs, only in his boxers. As he was approaching the end of the staircase, he heard the loud noise again, this time followed by soft humming. He kept walking towards the source, the kitchen, when the noise startled him again, and he jumped into the kitchen, holding the bat high and ready.
"Jesus Fucking Christ!" Eddie yelled and ducked behind the kitchen island. Steve lowered the bat, and scanned the very messy kitchen. Mixing bowls and pots were all over the place, along with ingredients that Steve couldn't think of what they can make together.
"Eddie? Did you go to war in my kitchen?" He put the bat on the floor and walked around the island, where Eddie was stretching up and standing again.
"Hi Stevie," Eddie avoided the question and kissed Steve quickly on the lips, who smiled against the kiss but kept his arms crossed on his chest.
"You scared me," He said when Eddie broke the kiss, "I thought someone broke in. Are you trying to cook something?"
"Not trying, sweetheart, I am cooking something. Baking, actually." Eddie smiled cheekily and started picking up pots from the floor.
"Then why are all the pots out?" Steve teased and Eddie stood up and released a nervous laugh, "Well, I... I didn't know exactly where you keep things, so I kinda took everything out?" He rubbed his neck and Steve laughed.
"It's okay," He started putting the pots in place, "What are you making?"
Eddie, relieved that Steve isn't mad, started clapping in excitement, "Hamantashen!"
Steve looked at him, confused, "Bless you..?"
"No!" Eddie slapped Steve's shoulder, "It's food. And it's amazing."
"I want to believe it's food," Steve teased and Eddie crossed his arms and looked at Steve seriously.
"I don't make fun of your traditional cultural food, do I?"
Steve froze in place, "No, you don't. I'm sorry. Wanna tell me what haman... what did you say, tashen, is?"
Eddie smiled, "With pleasure!" He then pulled a chair and pushed Steve onto it, who giggled to himself, knowing Eddie is about to make the explanation into a whole performance.
"It all started in the faraway kingdom of Ahasuerus," Eddie opened and his eyes lit up, "The King of The Persian Empire, who ruled from India to Kush. He was a hedonistic king who had parties and feasts almost every day," He checked on Steve, making sure he was following. Steve nodded and Eddie continued.
"One day, King Ahasuerus was having one of his many parties, when his wife, Vashti, refused to join. Ahasuerus, who had a very fragile ego, took it personally and decided to fire her, and banish her. Silly Ahasuerus, realized soon after that he misses her, and decided to look for a new wife. He sent people around the kingdom and put his eyes on Good Girl Esther, a Jewish sweetheart who was raised by her Jewish cousin, Mordechai," He checked on Steve again, who looked a little lost now, "Are you following?"
"Yes, it's just... Is all of that important for the food?" He asked carefully.
"Yes." Eddie stated, "moving on. Joining the story now, the infamous Haman. Haman was an official in the king's court, and had an order from Ahasuerus himself, that everyone who saw Haman had to bow down to him. They all did, except-" Eddie stopped to see if Steve completes him, but he only tilted his head at him and stayed silent, "Mordechai, Steve! Mordechai didn't bow down to Haman!"
Steve was invested now, "Oh shit, he probably didn't take that well, did he?"
Eddie smiled in delight, "Oh, absolutely not, Stevie, dear. Haman also had a fragile ego, even more fragile than Ahasuerus. He got so upset, that he decided it's required not to only kill Mordechai, but to execute all the Jews in the Persian Empire!"
"What?? How can he do that??" Steve was on the edge of his seat, "Did Ahasuerus agree? Wait! Isn't he married to Mordechai's cousin??"
Eddie held Steve's face, "He is, Stevie, he is." He did a little twirl and continued his lecture, "Ahasuerus is married to Esther, but he doesn't know she's Jewish. Haman came to Ahasuerus and asked him if he can kill all the Jews, and the stupid king agreed. Haman went on with his plan, and even prepared a special tree for Mordechai's hanging," He paused, enjoying Steve's curious face, and proceeded, "The rumour got spread, Haman was gonna kill all the Jews in the Empire and no one was saying a thing," Steve shook his head, "I know, terrible. Mordechai walked around wearing bags, but it didn't do a thing. That until..." He stopped again, teasing Steve.
"Until what??" Steve burst and Eddie laughed.
"Until Ahasuerus found out Mordechai saved his life. You see, Ahasuerus had these two guards who planned to assassinate him, and Mordechai uncovered their plan and saved the king's life."
"And Mordechai didn't want credit for that? How did Ahasuerus find out?" Steve asked quickly.
"He told Esther to tell Ahasuerus. The guards were executed and Mordechai got promoted, but here things get complicated." He paused again.
"How??" Steve stood up and Eddie pushed him back into his seat, giggling.
"Ahasuerus summoned Haman, and asked him, 'what is to be done for the man whom the king wishes to honor?'" Eddie finger quoted the sentence, "Haman, who thought Ahasuerus was talking about him, told him to give him a city, dress him in fancy clothes, give him a horse and have him escorted around the capital for everyone to see. Ahasuerus accepted the idea, and told Haman to do all that to Mordechai."
"Yes!" Steve jumped, "Poetic justice!"
Eddie chuckled, "Yes, but Haman was still gonna kill all the Jews. He went around the capital with Mordechai and cursed every step, having his rage and hate fueled more and more."
"So what happened? Didn't Ahasuerus realize Haman wants to kill the person who saved his life?" Steve asked.
"I remind you, Ahasuerus was very dumb," Eddie answered, "He didn't care about Jews or not Jews, and he didn't even know Mordechai and Esther were Jewish themselves. So what happened, is that as the date came close, Esther started to fast -"
"Wait, what date?" Steve cut him mid-sentence.
"Oh, right," Eddie shook his head, "I forgot that part. When Haman decided to kill the Jews, he left it to fate to set the date. He basically rolled dice, and it fell on the thirteenth day of the Hebrew month Adar, so everyone knew when the mass killing was due. We call it Pur."
"That's intense..." Steve almost whispered, "So all the Jews were just waiting for their death?"
"Almost. They all fasted and wore simple clothes and grieved, but Esther, who was the closest to the king, took it a step further. She was having feasts where she wouldn't eat, and Ahasuerus was getting worried. He asked her why she wouldn't eat or drink, and she said an evil man wants to kill her and all her people. Ahasuerus got scared, and asked her who it is, and that he would kill him immediately." Eddie stopped.
"And?? You can't stop here! What happened?! Did all the Jews die??" Steve started pacing around in worry.
"Esther told Ahasuerus it's Haman who wants to kill all the Jews." Eddie said seriously and Steve started jumping in excitement, and Eddie smiled, "Ahasuerus, who finally found some brains, ordered to kill Haman, who was hanged on the same tree he prepared for Mordechai."
Steve clapped and hugged Eddie, "Yes! Amazing!"
Eddie laughed, "It really was. All the Jews were celebrating for days afterwards, partying and drinking, and everything was good." He hugged Steve back.
"This is such a cool story," Steve said with dreamy eyes, "But what does it have to do with the hamantashen? Wait, it has Haman's name in it??"
"Yes, but it's not like that," Eddie assured, "There are a few interpretations of the meaning of the hamantashen. Some say it symbolises his ears, some say it's his hat or his pockets, but the idea behind it is to celebrate his defeat." Eddie smiled in victory, and Steve smiled back.
"As we should!" He laughed, "But what are hamantashen anyway?"
"Oh, they're cookies. Triangular cookies with filling, traditionally it's poppyseed filling, but poppyseed is disgusting, so I'm putting chocolate." Eddie said and Steve chuckled.
"Of course you are. Can I... help you make them?"
Eddie nodded enthusiastically and the boys got to work. They kneaded the dough in turns, and put it to rest in the fridge for a few minutes. They cleaned up the counter and Steve started washing some dishes, and then closed the tap.
"What holiday is this? Like this story, and the cookies, what are we celebrating?"
Eddie beamed, "It's called Purim, from Pur, fate. We celebrate the defeat of Haman, and how we were saved by the Pur, instead of killed."
"It must be a very happy holiday then," Steve smiled, "Are there more traditions, other than eating Haman's ears?"
Eddie laughed, "Of course there are. First of all, we wear costumes. Purim is the holiday of changed fate, so like Haman was killed instead of the Jews, we symbolise that by being someone else for a few days. We also have a big feast and read the Megillah, the story I just told you," He smiled, "We also make gift baskets for each other, and donate food and money for those who need them. Another thing we do, and you're gonna like that, is to get so drunk, that we can't tell between Evil Haman and Good Mordechai," he giggled, "I know I like this one."
"Do you... Wanna do that?" Steve asked shyly and Eddie started laughing.
"I think you know the answer to that." He winked.
They took the dough out of the fridge, rolled it and cut circles into it with a glass. They then put chocolate in the middle of some, after Steve convinced Eddie to make some with strawberry jam too. They folded them into triangles and put them in the oven, and then Steve poured them newly opened wine.
"Happy Purim, Eddie," Steve clinked their glasses together.
"Happy Purim indeed, Stevie, L'Chaim," He clinked back and took a long sip.
"You made that sound again," Steve said, "Like in tuches."
Eddie started laughing so hard, he had to put his glass down, "Steve, god. Yes, it's the same sound," He kissed him wetly on the cheek, "but it's a very different word. L'Chaim means cheers in Hebrew. It translates to 'to life'. We celebrate life." He smiled, a warm feeling set in his chest. "We celebrate life." He said again, quietly, and Steve smiled at him in understanding.
"We celebrate life." Steve repeated and kissed Eddie slowly and deeply.
The oven rang a few minutes later. Eddie pulled the tray out and a warm, sweet smell filled the kitchen. He put the hamantashen on a plate and took it to the living room, and Steve followed with the already half-empty bottle of wine, and another one he found in the fridge.
Steve and Eddie spent the rest of the day feeding each other hamantashen, getting drunk out of their minds and kissing like it was their first time, again and again and again.
They both passed out on the couch, laying on top of each other, full of wine and hamantashen and love.
Celebrating Life.
#Happy Purim!#can you tell it's my favourite holiday#it came out a bit educational lol but i love this story so much and eddie does too#i kinda wanna make hamantashen too now#maybe i will#isn't steve so cute celebrating eddie's holidays with him#and yes it kinda connects to my yiddish speaking eddie fic#im creating a universe of chaotic jewish eddie#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steve x eddie#eddie x steve#jewish eddie#jewish eddie munson#established steddie#purim#hamantashen#im obsessed with this holiday
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first time ~ hyunjin
pairing: hyunjin x fem!reader
word count: 2.4k
rating: 18+! warnings below cut!
genre: some fluff, smut, very soft!dom hyunjin
synopsis: in which a late night visit at the dance studio turns steamy
warnings: fingering, some nipple play, teasing, unprotected sex, some choking, some praising, hyunjin loud in bed
!my content is not suitable for minors! 18+ only! by reading more you consent to being 18+ and to nsfw content and take all responsibility!
tangled limbs strained against invisible binds as the music changed tempos. each move melting into each other fluidly with each beat. the room dimly lit from the lights on the ceiling casting a soft shadow of his long elegant form.
the soft yet sensual movements of his body drawing you in. eyes fixated on each movement he made. losing himself to the music until it finally ends.
all that could be heard was the soft panting and hands clapping. you were absolutely marveled at his skills. his lips casting the softest smile while finally turning his attention on you. soft looks shared from across the room.
“like what you see?, hyunjin teased while making his way over to you.
“you know I always do,” you tease back as he sits next to you on the cold studio floor while grabbing his water bottle and chugging it. droplets of water going down his long neck. the soft movements of his adam's apple going up and down. his long veiny fingers wrapped around the cold wet bottle. long wet hair sticking to his forehead and neck. he finished his bottle and tossed it aside while licking his pink plump lips. then directing his attention to you and facing you.
“you know… I can't concentrate while dancing when you look at me like how you are right now,” he teased, having caught your staring. everyone in the world would agree that your boyfriend was absolutely breathtaking. so getting all his attention and being asked to see his new dance to the song “taste” was exciting. to say you werent eye fucking him the whole time was an understatement. you weren't together that long and haven't taken things all the way. you were barely alone together. always with him and his members, constantly interrupted at his place by a bunch of the guys shirtless eating chicken breast and ranting about the gym.
“well you should be concentrating on me instead, so…”you teased before cracking up at your boyfriend that's giving you a disgusted face and poking you in the nose before blushing and giggling at your comment. hyunjin loved to tease you and you normally wouldn't tease him back, but you were on a roll today. blaming your hormones and watching him dance like you've never seen before.
“was my dancing okay? I've been working very hard on it so I hope it wasn't too bad. the boys said I still had to practice and fix some things before our performance,” he whines and pouts while grabbing your hand in his. your hands molding perfectly into each other with his overpowering yours in size.
hyunjin would never admit he liked skinship, but in reality he craved it and needed it to survive. he needed constant physical touch from you to feel safe and assured.
“my love… you did amazing. I'm not lying when I say you are the best dancer I have ever watched. each movement was smooth yet calculated. you are so talented. I wish you saw yourself how I see you… perfect,” you voiced while brushing his hair behind his ear and smiling as he leaned into your touch. you loved how long his hair had gotten and how he looked with a mullet.
whatever he does, and whatever he sees he always thinks to himself if you would like it. he thought of you both as one.
he got distracted by the thought of you while looking into your eyes. getting lost into them as you finished speaking. he brought his hand up to your cheek making you now lean into his touch. brushing his hand softly over your cheek before looking down at your lips while licking his own and looking back up to your eyes. you looked down at his lips and blushed, giving him the confirmation to kiss you.
lips pausing before the kiss. just barely touching and breathing each other's air. feeling dizzy from the attraction and need for him.
“never seen you look at me like that before. I got to say… it's really turning me on,” he says before giving in and crashing his lips to yours. lips molding perfectly together. the hand on your cheek slowly going to your neck while the other goes to your waist. you climb onto his lap and straddle him. both of your breathing getting louder and louder as the kisses intensify. his hand on your throat slowly gets tighter while the one on your waist goes to your breasts and squeezes it catching you off guard which allows him to trace your bottom lip with his tongue causing you to slightly moan. tongues meeting and rolling over each other. your hands making their way to his long hair and tugging on it causing him to let out a loud groan. It was like music to your ears. you start grinding your hips on his lap. eliciting a sweet moan from the both of you. actions getting hotter and hotter until he couldn't take it anymore. lips parting while you both heavily breath.
“should we move this to the couch… the floor kind of hurts,” he giggles while panting. leave it to hyunjin to be goofy and dramatic at a time like this you said to yourself.
“mhmm,” you confirmed before attaching your lips to his neck.
“then hold on tight baby,” he whispers while putting both hands on your thighs, holding firmly. he gets up from the floor with your legs straddling his waist and arms holding onto his shoulder and neck with ease as if it was nothing. In a mere second he sat you both on the couch that was in the dance studio. the same position as before with you straddling his lap, except now on the black leather couch. one hand travels back into his hair while the other travels to his shoulder before ghosting over his neck. he gives you a slap on the ass which causes you to squeeze on his neck causing the loudest moan to escape his lips. your lips break away from the kiss as he looks at you with pure lust.
“you look so good with your hands wrapped around my neck baby,” he teases before picking you up and pinning you under him. his hand now gripping your neck while the other is on your waist getting closer and closer to your breasts. his hand squeezed over your breast causing him to groan into the kiss.
you would always catch him staring at your breasts and whenever you would cuddle he would use them as a pillow which you eventually learned was intentional and not by coincidence. his hand went to the bottom of your tank top tugging at it asking for permission to take it off. you took your hand and put it on top of his guiding it to take off your shirt. lips parting as he hungrily takes your tank top off revealing you in a pretty white lace bra. his lips attach to your neck giving you sweet soft kisses then trailing down and stopping right before he reaches your bra.
“can I kiss and touch you here baby,” he asked, biting his lip in anticipation.
“yes baby, please,” you say right away, missing his touch and wanting him to take you completely.
“always so needy,” he groans before his hand slips under your back and in one swift movement unhooks your bra. It's off in an instant. his eyes locked on the beautiful sight. you were perfect to him. he wasn't the best with his words so he wanted to show you how much he cared for you.
once he was out of his trance his tongue found his way to your hardened peak flicking and swirling while his hand squeezes and flicks the other causing you painful but intoxicating sensations. he takes his time looking up at you and seeing what you like the best while moving onto the other hardened peak showing the same attention being more aware of what you liked.
you gripped his hair hard causing him to let go and giggle at you for a sec before attaching his lips to yours once again. your hands travel to his chest running up and down. one hand slowly goes towards his crotch lightly touching it while taking your hand away as if you hadn't done that causing him to groan and let go of your lips while sitting up and taking his shirt off before hungrily bringing his lips back to yours. your hands roam back to his crotch rubbing him up and down through his pants. hyunjin was not shy about making noise. he was moaning loudly into your kiss and making the sweetest noises, making you excited to hear him when he finally was inside you. hyunjin breaks your kiss and leans his forehead on yours, panting at how breathless he was.
“we don't have to do this… we can stop here… we are on a dusty sofa that isn't fit for a queen like you,” he said calmly until he laughed at the end when he said you were queen. hyunjin might have cringed at himself for saying that out loud, but he truly saw you as just that. when he dates someone, he truly has deep feelings for them. you were his everything. you giggled with him then grabbed his face with both hands and looked into his eyes and gave him a kiss on the nose which caused him to scrunch his face and look at you with a pout.
“my love… we could be almost anywhere and i wouldn't care… as long as i'm with you that's all that matters,” you voiced. he smiled warmly and kept eye contact. you knew he wasn't the best with his words, but you both had a way of understanding each other without words. he leaned back in and devoured your lips in a kiss. Your hands going straight for his waistband of his sweatpants and tugging. he took the sign and gave you one last peck before getting off of you and standing up.
his long fingers slowly made his way from his chest to his waistband when he finally stripped himself of his pants and boxers causing his hard long length to bounce up and slap his stomach. In the dim room you could see the pre cum on his tip glistening. you licked your lips causing him to smirk before reaching you again.
“I know you're on birth control, but do you want me to use a condom?” he grunts when you wrap your hands around his hard length spreading the pre cum with your fingers down his length before letting go causing him to whine and pout at you like the drama queen he is.
“no baby,”you seductively moan when his hands reach your waistband and take them off in an instant. still standing next to you he plays with you and runs his long fingers over your panties to feel how wet you are. you whine and want more.
“you're cute when you're whining for more… tonight I'll pleasure you beyond your wildest dreams,” he mutters before taking your panties off and climbing back on the couch above you. he latches his lips back on you while running his fingers over your wet folds. teasing you sliding up and down barely entering his fingers until you whine some more. he finally shoves two fingers inside you causing you to moan into his mouth. his fingers curving and hitting that spot that felt so good pumping in and out of you. adding a third finger stretching you some more and getting you ready for him. the closer you got to release the louder you got. he started pumping his fingers in and out of you erratically while you moved your hips with the rhythm losing composure. your kisses get sloppy with your nerves on fire, your hips jerk and you release on his fingers. he kisses you gently before letting go and putting his fingers in his mouth slowly savoring your taste.
“I need you jinnie,” you whine, needing him to fill you up. he chuckles and smirks looking down at you.
“are you sure you want this,” he says, features softening while looking into your eyes for any discomfort.
“yes jinnie, I do… I want you,” you reply with a smile. he gives you a peck on the forehead before lining himself up to your wet core. looking at you one last time before slowly pushing his long hard length into you.
sweet moans leave both of your mouths as you adjust to his size. once adjusted he slowly rolls his hips, filling you up and massaging your inner walls. thrusting harder and harder feeling your juices spilling out knowing he's hitting the right spots for you.
“you look even more beautiful with my length in you,”he rasped in your ear. the breath tickling your ear and starting to make you dizzy from arousal.
moans leaving your mouth with each thrust. music to his ears causing him to grunt deeply knowing he's hitting all those spots for you and driving you over the edge.
raising his body up and lifting one of your legs putting them on his shoulder. hitting all new spots you didn't think were possible. eyes never leaving his as his slim muscular build contracts with each hard thrust and contorts with each pump. a long veiny hand coming to your wet nub and rubbing it vigorously.
“god you're so beautiful,” he rasps.
head dizzy, all that was on your mind was one another. feeling as one and feeling intoxicated with the other. wanting to feel good, but make the other feel just as good.
“f-fuck,” you whimper feeling yours walls flutter around his hard throbbing length. eyes rolling back as you clench on him and you release.
hips thrusting into you even harder and sloppier, overstimulating your wet core as he jerks and floods you with his cum. letting out a loud sweet moan from those pretty pink lips.
collapsing on top of you. refusing to let you go and wanting to stay buried in you. he felt safe. finally looking up and you he stares into your eyes and looks at your lips giving you the sweetest peck. he takes one hand and intertwines it with yours.
“you make me so happy….. I feel like you and I are one…. I love you… and I want to be loved by you… you're my angel,” he whispers looking into your eyes, hopeful that you feel the same.
“I love you too jinnie… and I always will,” you whisper back before smiling and giggling like idiots savoring this moment.
disclaimer: my writing is intended for entertainment and does not represent any real person! the names are used for purely fictional purposes!
please reblog and leave a like! feedback is greatly appreciated and it motivates me to write more! I read it all and am so thankful for each of you!
~ masterlist ~
#hyunjin#hyunjin smut#stray kids#stray kids smut#skz#skz smut#stray kids imagines#stray kids scenarios#hyunjin x reader#hyunjin x y/n#stray kids x reader#stray kids x y/n#skz x reader#skz x y/n#skz imagines#skz scenarios#x reader#kpop smut#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios
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Can you write the Penguins getting a strip tease from their s/o? Love your work and thanks!
a/n: ahhh yess I would absolutely love to do this. I also love that I got two requests for this lol.
Content Warning: suggestive material (subtle mentions of nudity and touching and daddy kink)
The Penguins Reacting to Being Strip Teased
Arkhamverse Penguin:
- Oh, he’s delighted.
- Oswald slouched further into the chair or loveseat he was sitting in.
- He leisurely takes a drag off his cigar as he watches you intently.
- His grin grows wider as you slowly and sensually remove each article of clothing.
- You strutted your way towards where he sat, eyelids heavy.
- A small trail of clothes laid behind you in your wake.
- Oz spread his legs further apart, to allow you more room to get between them.
- You smirked as you quickly discarded the rest of your underwear and took your place in his lap.
Reevesverse/Farrell Penguin:
- Oswald loves it when you surprise him like this.
- It’s the best way for him to distress after a long day of hustling.
- His hands are constantly gripping his knees, wishing he was gripping you instead.
- He’d like to consider him somewhat of a patient man, and as much as he loves a good tease.
- You’re driving him absolutely mad with how slow you’re squirming out of your outfit you wore tonight.
- He tries to encourage you to pick up the pace by buttering you up with compliments with his deep honey-ed voice.
- “So gorgeous, so sexy…so mine..”
- “I don’t know what I did to deserve you…”
- And of course, a classic, “c’mon sweetheart, don’t want to keep Daddy waiting..”
Gotham Penguin:
- Oswald suddenly feels like he’s wearing much too many layers.
- He’s constantly pulling on the collar of his shirt and his bow tie.
- He can’t catch his breath–despite running cold, he feels himself breaking into a sweat.
- Oswald can’t even defend himself when you giggle about how flustered he looks.
- Like a fish out of water gasping for air, his eyes as wide as entree saucers.
- The faintest red dusting along his pale cheeks.
- Oswald’s breath hitches with every drop of clothing and every step you take closer to him.
- Even as you get on your hands and knees and crawl right up between his legs.
- Oswald has a white-knuckled grip on the arms of his chair–his whole body rigid and stiff–
- But that’s not the only thing.
BTAS Penguin:
- Oh, oh…oh my…
- Oswald is…surprised to say the least.
- Not that he isn’t appreciative or doesn’t enjoy it–
- He’s just…not used to this sort of…exchange? This type of intimate surprise.
- The fact you’re willing to treat him to a private show where you slowly reveal your most intimate parts to him…
- That is how he sees it too.
- It’s not just a simple strip tease, especially not to him and especially when it comes to you.
- He may not know how to properly…respond or react (if there even is such a thing, again he’s unsure)
- But he does feel an overwhelming sense of adoration and lust wash over him like he’s never known.
Telltale Penguin:
- Oz has been to many different strip clubs whilst partaking in illegal boxing matches and arm deals in England.
- Yet, none of those performers could even dream to hold a candle to you.
- He will never get tired of seeing you, especially seeing you get naked for him.
- No matter what he thinks you’re going to do, you manage to surprise him.
- You look like you’re about to shimmy out of your lower clothes, but you end up actually grabbing the ends of your upper clothing.
- The hardest part for you is to try and keep him at bay when you do it however.
- Always stopping him at arm or leg length to keep him from touching you and ending the show early.
- You can’t help but beam with pride knowing you have this kind of effect on him.
One Bad Day Penguin:
- Oswald is absolutely giddy.
- Like Arkham and Farrell Penguin, he’s definitely enjoying himself.
- Even though this isn’t the first time you’ve done this (and definitely won’t be the last), you still manage to drive him wild.
- You make his blood run hot and his heart skip a beat like a school boy and he can’t get enough of it.
- Oz can never get enough of you.
- However, he never tries to rush it, no matter how much he wants to.
- He knows better than anyone that good things come to those who wait.
- And he adores nothing more than this sensual build up to another extraordinary night of passion with you.
The Batman (2004) Penguin:
- Wolf whistling, tongue hanging out, howling–the whole gag.
- The Penguin honestly turns into a full on dog for several minutes.
- Ozzie is adorning a large wide grin that could rival the Joker’s.
- He is absolutely here for all of this.
- He loves it when you treat him to these delectable little shows.
- Ozzie is much worse than Telltale Penguin in terms of keeping him at bay.
- Many of your other strip teases have ended abruptly as soon as you reveal the right amount of skin.
- Man has no patience whatsoever.
Batman Unlimited Penguin:
- Oswald..is a nervous wreck.
- To say Oswald is a mess when you start stripping is…an understatement.
- He’s never been in a romantic relationship such as this…especially one where someone is so intimately open.
- Oswald’s heart is beating rapidly against his chest, he's like a deer in headlights.
- Does he say something?
- What does he do?
- Is he supposed to do something? It feels like he should do something, right?
- You’ll have to gently relax him and assure him that he just has to sit back, relax, and enjoy.
#ri writes#arkhamverse penguin x reader#reevesverse penguin x reader#farrell penguin x reader#gotham penguin x reader#btas penguin x reader#tnba penguin x reader#telltale penguin x reader#one bad day penguin x reader#the batman (2004) penguin x reader#batman unlimited penguin x reader
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A Rollercoaster Ride with Tom&Jerry
Josh Kiszka x male OC (1st person narrative)
8.014 words
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, intended for adult readers. Any resemblance to real persons is purely coincidental. Also, if you're under 18, go find some other entertainment elsewhere.
Warnings: intense and confusing emotions; swear words; both verbal and physical fights; oral sex; anal sex (surprise, surprise, it's about two guys); toys; choking&gagging&some spanking; BDSM; ...so you see, it's not for everyone.
This is basically a story about finding and re-establishing mutual trust. It involves conflict. Where there is a flame, someone's bound to get burned. So if you have any doubts that you're gonna be able to handle it, proceed with caution.
Big thanks goes to:
1. @edgingthedarkness for making an illustrative short video (you're gonna find it inside the story below) that should make the whole experience even juicier!
2. all my beta-readers and cheerleaders, especially @writingcold, @edgingthedarkness, @its-interesting-van-kleep and @thewritingbeforesunrise. Cheers, guys.
I've got some things to say
'Cause there's a lot that you don't know
It's written on my face
It's gonna be hard to swallow
(P!nk)
“You’re awfully quiet tonight. What’s going on?”
I sighed. Yeah, no shit. There was actually so much I wanted to say to him ever since the show ended, I just couldn’t figure out how to do that without sounding like a jealous little girl. My mind was absolutely racing and when that happens, the connection between my brain and my mouth just gets cut off completely. It’s a serious condition, really. Commonly known as “sulking.”
I often accompany him on tour, but I try to avoid live shows. I have my reasons. Hundreds of them. I agreed to be there for the last few concerts, which I now deeply regretted.
It had been a really busy and eventful week; me, myself and I getting increasingly irritated – by everything, but mostly him – as the days went by, and tonight’s events felt like the last straw. Part of me wanted to be finally alone with him, and another part just wanted to be alone. So, as a result, I just tried to avoid him. I had kept to myself while watching him down his beer as the band enjoyed their aftershow high back in the green room. No one else seemed to pay attention to me, and for that I was glad. Now we were sitting in a car on our way back to the hotel room, and the confrontation that I’d tried to avoid seemed inevitable.
As much as I pretended to be interested in the night scenery behind the window, it was impossible to ignore him any longer. Sadly, it was equally impossible to pretend that everything was ok and the idea that we could resolve it soon seemed pretty absurd. He was still in his stage outfit, bare chest in full display, absentmindedly scratching the skin right below his left nipple. Much to my dismay, he smelled divine, too. Warm and musky from the exertion, still with a faint hint of vanilla and cedar. AND he was obviously completely clueless.
“You know Josh, you make it really hard sometimes...”
Well, shit. I realized what I just did even before I finished the sentence. The instant smirk on his face told me that it was a really bad word choice and I regretted it immediately. I really wished that he would take it seriously this time. But he was still exhilarated and unnaturally restless, even to his standards. He literally couldn’t sit still, fidgeting in his seat, rapping his knuckles on a windowsill, giggling at nothing in particular…and I’d swear I even heard a moan when the car accidentally hit a curb. If I didn’t know him, I would say that he was high, but I knew he would never do that while performing.
“Yeah, I often do, don’t I darling.” He turned to me and pouted playfully, his chin resting on his fist. “...but you’re never quiet when that happens, so why don’t you tell me what’s bugging you.” He was looking at me now, the lower lip between his teeth again, eyelids half closed. Cheeky bastard.
What I really meant was – and he just proved my point again, by the way – that it was hard to keep the conversation serious when he was like that. And he was like that most of the fucking time. Everyone loved him for it, and that was the problem, because he just didn’t hesitate to love them all back. Not only was this his nature, but what is more, he was required to do that. A people pleaser, an entertainer…I was no longer pleased, nor entertained, though.
I knew what I signed up for when we started seeing each other. Granted, I didn’t know who he was – or what he was – when we first met in that rally more than three years ago. He was just a beautiful boy with the eyes of a winking doll and a golden halo bouncing around his head. In a crowd of other nameless, faceless and anonymous people, he exuded blinding light. Am I too sentimental? If you were there, you’d surely understand. I couldn’t take my eyes off him. After staring at him for at least fifteen minutes, I dared to lift my camera up to take a picture just as the wind blew a few disheveled locks into his face. He immediately noticed. His brows furrowed and his eyes squinted at me, but they were warm and I could tell he was smiling behind his mask, even though apprehensively.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”
“Why did you do that?” If I had thought that it couldn’t get any worse, I was sorely mistaken. The sultry voice that came from behind that black piece of cloth didn’t match his overall appearance. It made my dick twitch though, and I had to hear it again, so I decided to come clear about it, because he was already turning away again, not really interested in my answer. As if having his pictures taken was something that happened everyday. Yeah, as if. But…
Believe it or not, I just told him I thought he was beautiful. Right there on that street. I don’t normally do shit like that. To this day, I still don’t understand what got into me. It was blunt and impudent and no doubt a bit weird, and I expected him to tell me to fuck off.
But instead, he blushed. “Well, you’re not so bad yourself.”
I wasn’t sure if it was genuine or if he was just playing along. Or even mocking me. But I had to seize the opportunity by the hair. “I’m Tom.” What else to say, right?
“Josh.”
That’s it. That’s how Tom met Josh. We talked a lot that day. He was cute and funny and I just couldn’t get enough of that voice, which is never a good sign. You shouldn’t let yourself get addicted to people. It’s dangerous and he was very addictive. Later that day, when we left the crowd behind and he put the mask down to reveal his full, rosy lips, I should have run. But I didn’t. I let him use those lips to chain me to him just as they enveloped my dick.
Since then, there was not one single day when I wouldn’t think about that mouth. It only got worse when that sleepy pout became the first thing I saw almost every time I opened my eyes in the morning during that summer. Our relationship started as a strictly sexual one, not because we wanted it that way, but simply because arousal and excitement came first, and there was nothing else to do. We skipped dating and dived head first in the sheets. The world had slowed down, the future looked hazy, and we were just bored. OK, I admit, I was bored. His life wasn’t boring at all. Not even then. I got sucked into it pretty soon (pun absolutely intended). He made me fall for him before we even realized what was happening, and it was brutally intense. And it was also mutual.
I soon learned what it really meant to be part of that world. Our secret summer of love ended and reality hit. I went completely offline, partly because I was not interested in being hunted down by hysterical chicks, but mostly because he didn’t want them to know. You know what I mean. I didn’t really care that much myself, but I also understood.
If you’re into traveling, and if you ever followed @tomontheroad on Instagram and wondered why it just vanished one day, wonder no more. Yes, it was me. You probably didn’t even notice though, because in late 2020, it had already been dead for months anyway.
That’s just how it was. To keep the life we shared safe, I became an invisible nobody, which made it almost impossible for me to do my job, but I somehow managed. Meanwhile, he was there in the spotlight, adored by thousands, making their pussies and dreams wet. I was never to be seen. I agreed to all that, gladly, even though it was gradually getting worse. They started touring again, and that was when I saw his full potential, wrapped in velvet. He was their Pied Piper, playing his flute just as he played his vocals. I still didn’t mind. It was all worth it. I thought it was, at least. As soon as we closed the doors behind us, a brand new universe opened before me. Behind the closed doors, I was a traveler again, a tireless explorer. Every inch and every curve of his body was a land full of miracles and pleasures. A wondrous landscape. Every valley, a new home for me. Every peak, a place that revealed brand new horizons. Who needed tropical white sands when his warm skin was the perfect place to lay your head, the sound of his heart more calming than the humming of sea waves. I simply loved him.
I learned to live with the fact that I had a boyfriend that hundreds of people wanted to fuck, but it was me who actually did. They were mere voyeurs, standing outside the shopping window, ogling hungrily all the delicious desserts on display, which only I had the privilege to taste. I kept telling myself that I was the lucky one.
And you know what? That’s complete and utter bullshit. I keep doing this to myself. Lying to myself. I hadn’t learned to live with it at all. Granted, we had these conversations before, and all of them ended with me telling him it was fine. Everything was fine. I spent nearly two fucking years trying to convince myself that I was completely ok with all of this and just this evening I realized how much it was really bothering me.
Today he crossed the fucking line. The feeling that lurked somewhere in the back of my mind now reared its ugly head and I felt like I reached my limits.
I said I was there for the show. I actually never really get to see it, because I myself can’t be seen. It had been months since I last watched their concert and this past week I just waited for him in the green room. But tonight he insisted that I be there. I finally agreed, even though it really meant just lurking by the side, under the stage level with the staff, watching what was going on onstage on the monitor with Steve who’s in charge of big screens.
The camera loved him. And he loved it back, losing himself in the moment as he got high on the music they made. The audience was losing it too, screaming in frenzy because he made them feral. It all looked just like one big orgy. I had seen it many times before, that’s why I didn’t really want to be there, but I still couldn’t get my eyes off that screen. I was very familiar with all those faces he made. I had heard those moans before, I had watched him arch his back just like that before, the way he bit his lip, how his brows furrowed… I could tell he got bolder with it over time. I was mesmerized, but there was one big problem. The whole arena was watching this with me now, equally enchanted, but he was interacting with them and I felt unwelcome. I had seen some pictures, watched two or three shorts, but nothing could prepare me for this.
He ran down the stage a few times that evening, waved at me the first time, blew me a kiss a moment later, but as the evening progressed, I suddenly felt like losing him. It was an unwelcome surge of panic and just when I thought I got it under control, he ran past me and the next thing I saw on the screen was him right at the barricade, letting himself be hugged and groped by all those random people. I had enough. I couldn’t breathe. I excused myself and ran to the green room to pour myself a generous amount of whiskey.
Fast forward back to where we were, in the car on our way back to the hotel. “Not here,” I retorted. “Later.” The rest of the ride was tense. He kept looking sideways at me, I kept being extremely absorbed in examining the hem of my shirt. As soon as the door of our shared apartment closed behind us, he confronted me.
“So, we’re here. Care to explain why you’ve been behaving like such an insufferable bitch tonight?”
“Oh that’s rich, Joshua. By all means feel free to make it aaaall about my behavior again. Nothing wrong with you acting like an insolent and inconsiderate slut!”
“Inconsiderate…” He looked as if I just punched him.
“Yes!” I hissed, “inconsiderate! You know, it’s funny how you find this worth reacting…but not the fact that I just called you a slut.”
He just laughed and shook his head in disbelief as he headed straight to the minibar to pour himself a drink. “Well,” he trilled, “you didn’t shake the bitch allegations either, my love. At least I’m fun to be around.”
I just huffed and went towards the balcony to open the glass door. I really needed some fresh air. “Yeah, I’m not amused. But you don’t seem to mind. You were having a really good time there, with their hideous, overlong nails scratching your tits. Or when you were moaning into the microphone, almost pretending that you were fucking them all.” With that, I collapsed on the couch.
“So what do you want me to do to amuse you? You want me to fuck you? Let’s fuck in earnest, no pretending. Will that make it better? Do you want me to show you what and who I’m REALLY thinking about when their nails scratch my skin?”
“No Josh, you fucking me wouldn’t really sort out anything I’m afraid, because right now I feel like you’re fucking with me all the fucking time. I want to claim you, because I love the way you’re looking at me when I’m deep inside you and when you have to bite your lower lip just to stop it from quivering, you know. Not only because I really, really love that sight, but also because only then I feel like I’m the only person on your radar. And that’s what I need now.”
He watched me avidly, with his head slightly tilted and his expression almost unreadable, except for the obvious arousal that was silently flowing through his whole body, and I swear you could see it glimmering behind his pupils. I definitely could see it in his tight pants. I would lie if I said that I wasn’t aroused. Truth be told, I needed to fuck him, badly. We could continue bitching about each other’s behavior later. For now, angry fuck would do…
He put his glass down and slowly took off his sun jacket, all without breaking eye contact. It was like watching him in slow motion, when he palmed his hardening dick through the white satin, squeezed it briefly and then stroked it gently a few times. He loved this. He was a born entertainer, always ready to please the audience. I couldn’t help but admire the fact that he knew exactly what he was doing. I was his audience now, and I had to admit to myself that this was a completely different show.
“Ok, that’s convenient, because I’d really love you to finish what I started.”
I had no clue what he was talking about and watched him – flabbergasted – as he turned around, pulled his pants down and bent over to unfasten the cuffs around his ankles. That’s when I saw it. A little sparkly gem between his buttcheeks. I recognised the tiny steel buttplug with a faceted stone immediately, even though we hadn’t used it much. I gave it to him for Christmas, and later he joked that it really fit the Starcatcher aesthetics, so maybe he should wear it with the rest of his jewelry, but I didn’t really expect him to actually do it!
“Josh…did you have it in for the whole show?” I tried to keep it cool, but the words only came out as a breathy whisper. He only chuckled and stretched like a cat to relieve his stiff muscles. He was still acting, completely naked now, exaggerating every move just to torture me.
“No, darling. I wanted to, but they would have seen it under the jumpsuit. It’s quite tight, isn’t it. No, I put it in for es-tee-tee. Colors, gems and trim, darling. Now, let’s take a shower first. And close your mouth, or else I’ll fill it.”
And with that he strutted into the bathroom without even waiting for me, shaking that tiny bejeweled ass just for the show. He knew that I would follow. He already had me in his grasp, metaphorically speaking.
We often showered together. That was our personal habit, both at home or when I accompanied him on his travels. It was always our sweet moment of seclusion in his otherwise busy schedule. Very intimate, but not always blatantly sexual. Of course, sometimes it WAS blatantly sexual, but oftentimes we just talked a lot, kissed a lot, washed each other’s hair, just took care of each other. Just tracing my fingers down his spine was enough to help me forget about the gloomy world beyond our walls. Not to mention being inside his walls, but I digress…
I took my time. I couldn’t give him the satisfaction of following him like a pet dog, so I stripped slowly, took a few more sips of my drink and walked indolently into the bathroom. Just for the show. I expected him to wait for me by the counter, but he didn’t. He was already in the shower, steam already filling the room. I slid the glass door open and started. He was standing there, right under the stream, facing the door, his eyes boring into me. He was quite a sight, too. Not having bothered with the stage makeup, the streaks of smudged eyeliner were now running down his cheeks, over the remaining rhinestones. Wet hair already flattened and pulled back. This was intentional. He was still provoking me.
We just observed each other warily before he broke the silence and asked me nonchalantly if I could just wash his back. I gestured to him to turn around and did as he asked. I poured the vanilla-scented body wash in my hands and soaped his body with it, just like I always did. And just like he always did, he started talking about the events of the day. Some tiktok video they filmed after the soundcheck that I didn’t care about.
His tone was completely casual, in spite of the fact that I held his balls firmly in my hand, gently massaging them with my soap-covered hand. I let my other hand travel slowly down his left buttcheek towards that little surprise he had there for me previously.
“So tell me, Josh. Why this?”
I watched him smile at the question. His previous restlessness suddenly made perfect sense. The whole time I was sulking and worrying about us, about his behavior and his intentions, he was just getting himself off. I took the bejeweled plug in my fingers and twisted it gently. He arched his back and moaned softly. I just loved listening to him. His lovely mouth could elicit the most delicious high-pitched whimpers. So I did it again. This time, his head landed on my shoulder, exposing his neck to me. I let my nose brush against my favorite place right under his earlobe. This was dangerous territory. Everytime I let myself wander through the smooth valleys of his lithe body, I was close to losing my mind, and he knew it. He was narcotic. Normally, it just meant that earth-shattering sex would follow, but I needed to stay focused, because I had to resolve this first: “Fucking tell me, Josh,” I hissed.
“I…I like to keep myself perked up, my love. I can’t go onstage…oh, yes, thee-e-e-ere…I can’t go onstage drunk, or high…dammit…that would, aaah would be unprofessional, yeah?” He chuckled. “So I just keep myself turned-on instead. It’s good for the show.”
“For the show, eh? You’re a liar.”
“No…no-ah, I’m not lying, dear. I keep myself turned on…and when I feel the rhythm in my bones and when I let the… the melody soar through my veins, I imagine your dick inside me. Or your fingers. Aaaall because they lo-oooh-love seeing me like that. So you see, it’s good for the show. They can feel it. Our love. Just…genuine…love. The feeling is omnipresent…and I want to share it.”
The insolence! “You see Josh, that’s the problem,” I whispered while my teeth grazed his jugular, “I don’t want to share it.”
With that, he turned around and kissed me gently, letting the tip of his tongue just brush against mine. With his left hand stroking the nape of my neck, his right palm slowly wandered down my torso, fingertips lightly grazing my left nipple, and further down, until he had me in his grasp, now literally speaking. I fell under his spell again, utterly and completely, and I no longer wanted to fight it. I had to remind myself that tonight was supposed to be my night, that I was supposed to be in control, but I was slowly losing it anyway. He sensed it, and generously put me back on track, while still jerking me off.
“Honey, this is us. This is just us. I share the miracle, you see? That’s my job. But you don’t share me with anyone. You own me!”
Oh yeah, that worked. His words felt like a detonator. Perhaps more than he had intended them to. I’m sure they were partly meant to soothe me, but something really snapped in me and all those pent-up emotions suddenly begged to be released. I lost all my remaining mental clarity and acted upon it without really thinking. I pushed him against the wall and firmly wrapped my hand around his throat. His head hit the tiles with a dull thud and even though my own actions took me by surprise and I saw a brief flicker of panic in his eyes, I couldn’t stop. I kept him pinned to the wall with my thigh pushing his legs apart. He belonged to me, and I needed him to understand it.
I’m not the world’s strongest man, but I’m bigger than him. Three inches taller, and I could overpower him without much difficulty. That’s why I had always been rather gentle with him, even though he’s a hotheaded bastard and always fights back like a mad chihuahua. Not this time. He just watched me with those doe-like eyes and his mouth slightly ajar, while his hands just rested on my chest. I barely felt the touch. He was a meek lamb, a rag doll, but his face told me a different story. I could see his previously bewildered expression transform into a defiant one. He tilted his chin up, nostrils flared. He was daring me, breathing heavily and waiting for my next move.
“Damn right I do! Fuck, you’re mine,” I growled and tightened my grip on his neck, while my other hand kneaded his left buttock.
He whimpered and I recognized the sound. I’d heard it many times before. Everytime I pounded into him with feral force, when I pulled his hair, or when I smacked his ass, because that was the only part of his body I ever dared to leave a mark on.
“You like this, you little fucker.”
He closed his eyes, breathing raggedly through his nose. I could feel his semi spring up and twitch against my thigh. I could tell just by his fingertips now clawing at my chest that he really did. But I needed to hear it.
“Answer me!”
“Yeah,” he finally breathed out and our eyes met again.
We were both very sensual people, but never overly violent with each other. It’s not that the idea never crossed my mind, because I really like rough fuck. Sue me. I’d had my fair share of “tough love” during the time spent with my previous lovers. Truth be told, he was often pushing my buttons, and it took all my willpower not to act. All smiles and sunshine on the outside, he could be an insufferable brat sometimes. I just always had to remind myself that I couldn’t leave a mark, even though his own nails frequently branded me with scratches. But that was it. It was part of the deal. I treated him like my pampered darling, even at times when I just had to shut him up with a gag… some occassional BD sans SM, that’s how we rolled. It just occurred to me that treating him like that might have been a mistake. I just had to make sure that he was really agreeing to this.
I let go of his neck and let my fingers travel up his jaw and into his wet hair, all without breaking eye contact. We were watching each other intently, trying to communicate without words, searching for clues. I cradled his head in my hands, my fingers massaging the back of his head. He leaned into the touch and closed his eyes.
“Does it hurt?”
He shook his head silently. I placed a trail of short kisses up his neck until I reached his earlobe and nibbled on it gently. I felt him pull me closer to him as he pressed his fingertips convulsively into the flesh on my hips until it almost hurt.
“Are you ok?” I whispered in his ear. He nodded and rubbed his nose against my cheek. A brief moment of tenderness was exactly what we both needed to reassess our position. Now it was the time to remind him of his role…
“Fine, on your knees!” I pushed him down, perhaps with not enough force, because it did not wipe that defiant look off his face, but I was well aware of the fact that he also still had that thing deep inside him. I was pumped, but not reckless. He was now kneeling right under the shower stream, small rivulets of water running down his face as he looked up at me, blinking. I had to take a deep breath not to cum just from the sight.
“Open your mouth.”
…and he didn’t. Because he knew. That dastardly sneer of his is going to be the end of me one day, but I usually tolerate it. Not only because it’s hot as fuck, but also because it tells me he knows what I need. Or better yet, what he makes me need…and crave. I certainly hadn’t known that I needed my head to be treated like a lollypop until he taught me it was what I craved. Parting his lips ever so slightly, it just rested on them until he darted his tongue out into the slit, savoring every little drop of my precum. He had this habit of looking up at me when he was doing this, because he knew it was driving me crazy.
So that’s what he was doing. Licking at my glans, watching me, daringly. I wasn’t having it. Enough of this game. I grabbed his head and buried my cock in the back of his throat. He gagged on it violently, darting his head backwards. I was still holding his head in both of my hands, though, and pushed him back, fucking his mouth in ferocious speed until he tapped on my thigh. Only then I released my grasp, watching him gasp for air.
He looked up at me again, and whispered: “More.”
And more he got. Oh god, that was so sexy, him literally begging me to choke him with my dick. I adjusted my pace, sliding in and out of those full, swollen lips. Grabbing my butt with both his hands, he urged me to go deeper, to fill him up, to obstruct his airway passage again. He tried to relax, letting my cock glide smoothly on his velvet tongue. I was getting close, dangerously close, but I wasn’t done with him yet. His mouth was perfect, but I needed more.
Before I stopped, I grabbed him by the nape of his neck, pushed him down my shaft and held him there for a while, until I felt his throat contract and his body convulsed. Another gag, another gasp. I let go and tilted his chin up lightly with my index finger. The running water quickly washed away the thick strings of saliva and the tears, but he still looked a mess, exhausted and tamed. He was also very hard, his eyes not the only thing looking at me. He loved this. A wave of tenderness washed over me again. Damn, it was always like this with him. A real rollercoaster of feelings.
“Come here, my filthy princess.”
I grabbed him by the arms, pushed him up on his feet again and pulled him into a tight embrace. I felt his chest rise and fall against mine, deep breaths interspersed with intermittent, barely audible chuckles.
“What’s so funny?”
“Not funny, just…exhilarating.”
My good boy. He deserved a reward. I bowed down and ran a few circles around his hardened nipple with the tip of my tongue, because he loved that. You might think I’m too soft, but this is what makes the experience really intense. I was still pissed, and full of adrenaline, but it was all because I loved him so much, and I needed him to feel it all. I ran my fingers down his spine, scratching his skin with my nails, perhaps more than necessary. But it was necessary. With the actual words still stuck in my throat, the touch was my language now. He looked at me again with a sweet smile, the tip of his tongue grazing his upper lip.
“So…now that it’s settled and I promise to be good, are you going to do that thing, darling?”
“That thing” meant me sucking his dick with my fingers knuckles deep in his ass. “Yeah, baby, you’ve earned it,” I stroked his cheek with my right hand while the left one traveled down right between his asscheeks...”let’s pull this out, then?” He nodded and turned around, resting his elbows against the tiles. It was my turn to get down on my knees. Yeah, I hear you, not very dominant of me, but you need to understand that this man has got the most fabulous ass I’ve ever seen, and I swear I’m gonna kiss and bite and spread and lick it any time I get the opportunity to do so.
I put some shower gel on my fingers and circled them around the plug. “Try to relax.”
“I know,” he spat impatiently through his teeth. That earned him a smack on his right buttock. Brat. I pulled the plug out gently, eliciting a long, breathy and relieved moan from him. I massaged the opening a bit, washing the rest of the soap out, before I grabbed him with both hands to spread him a bit more for me. What a glorious view. I buried my face in it and darted my tongue out.
“Oh god,” he breathed out as I licked into him.
The flowing water was starting to get on my nerves so I turned it off before I turned him around to face me. It was now my turn to taste his leaking tip. A few swift cat licks made him clutch at my shoulders tight and he almost lost his balance when I swallowed him whole. I reached behind him and gently pushed my middle finger inside him while my head bobbed up and down his dick. I pushed my finger deeper, curled it towards me and set a steady rhythm of my movements.
His breath suddenly quickened and I could feel him pulsate on my tongue. It was a matter of mere seconds. No. I stopped, retreated abruptly and stood up. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull and he was gaping at me in disbelief. I just smiled at him maliciously. He thought he could play with me, so let’s make this a shared experience.
“What the hell?!?” My plan worked perfectly. He practically shouted it at me. He was furious. Cute.
“I haven’t come yet, so what on earth made you think that I would let YOU, “ I smirked.
“Fuck you!” he pushed me aside forcefully and stormed out of the shower, heading back into the bedroom. Dripping wet, he slipped on the floor and almost fell, which gave me more time to react.
I ran after him. “Hey, where the fuck are yo…ouch!” The fucker slammed the bathroom door right in my face. I threw it open again with force, triyng to catch him. He was just by the bed when I reached out for his hair and yanked him back, making his back collide with my chest.
“Ouch, that hurt, you bastard!” he yelled as he tried to break free from my grasp, squirming, but he stood no chance.
“Do you want me to stop?” I hissed in his ear.
“No…”
Good. I pushed him face down on the bed, grabbed his wrists and held them firmly behind his back. I needed him to stay that way, so I searched the ground for something I could use. My eyes spotted a bathrobe that I tossed over the armchair earlier that day. Perfect. “Don’t move!” I got off him for a while to get what I needed. He looked over his shoulder, watching me as I pulled the belt out of the loops. He didn’t move, lying face down by the edge of the bed, ass up. My obedient baby.
I grabbed his wrists again and showed him the belt, making it obvious what I was going to do. “You ok with this?”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
I nodded, tied his wrists behind his back and went searching for the lube. “I’m going to fuck you now, and I’m not going to be gentle about it. If it becomes too much, or you just want me to stop, just say stop. Do you understand?
“Yes.”
“Fine. Oh, here it is.” I squeezed a generous amount of the lube on my fingers and put two of them to his asshole, rubbing it in circles before I pushed them in slowly. He was already almost ready from before, but I needed him to relax a bit more. “Now listen, I will let you cum this time. No monkey business. But I want the same from you. If you wanna cum, you’re going to behave. You’re going to beg for it. Understand?” I added a third finger and he whimpered and bit his lip, huffing. I was getting impatient. “Do-you-under-stand!?”
“Yeah,” he breathed out, “yes, I understand. Fuck me please. I’ll behave.”
I withdrew, slapped his butt, rubbed the remaining lube all over my cock, positioned myself and… pushed in. I had to focus all of my self-control on not pushing all the way in. He was so tight and warm and inviting, and I was all worked-up. The whole situation was a bit overwhelming, to be honest, but I just couldn’t get enough of it at the same time. His quick and shallow breaths told me that he felt pretty much the same. After several languid thrusts during which we both somehow managed to regain our composure and I quickened my pace. I grabbed his bound wrists in one hand and held his head down with the other. The room was filled with our synched moans and the slapping sound of our flesh colliding. I couldn’t get enough of him.
I grabbed his ass and slammed into him with full force. He cried out and begged me for more. His profile was absolutely entrancing, eyes squeezed shut and his mouth wide open, his melodic whines in sync with my thrusts. I needed to see more of it, so I unbound his wrists, pulled out and turned him over.
I grabbed his ankles instead and forced his legs up, before I buried myself in him again. My heart was beating wildly. I felt the poisonous cocktail of all the previously suppressed and boiling emotions fill my veins as the pleasure overcame my senses. “Look at me!” He watched me, bewildered, while I rammed into him, sweaty and almost out of breath. Suddenly all I could hear were my own labored grunts, while he just stared at me, wide-eyed and speechless.
“Cat got your tongue, hm? Always so…eloquent…with…them all…but not one…spare word…for your dirty little secret!”
Adrenaline running in my veins, I continued pounding into him and almost missed the sudden shift in his mood and movements.
“Tom…”
It was barely a whisper at first, but soon he became more and more agitated. “Tom…Tom, please. TOM! Hold on…stop…”
His face twisted in clear discomfort and his hands were clawing at my chest. I pulled out carefully. “What happened Josh? Did I hurt you?”
“No…no, m’fine. S’just a bit overwhelming, is all,” he mumbled. “Can you kiss me?”
I let his legs slide down my shoulders, leaned down and softly brushed my lips with his. I was confused, but also desperate to make this better, whatever it was. I stroked his cheek with my thumb and tried to make him look at me, but his eyes scanned the ceiling erratically and he blinked several times as he obviously tried to fight back the tears. But I could see that his eyes were already red. Now it was my turn to start panicking. Was he afraid of me?
“Josh! Josh, honey, please, look at me. Are you hurt?”
He shook his head and sobbed. Then his eyes finally met mine: “No, I’m alright. It’s just…please, don’t hate me Tom. I can’t stand you hating me. I was just trying to protect you.”
The realization that hit him a minute ago now backfired back to me. And just like that my heart shattered into millions of microscopic pieces. I searched his face for more answers, those big, tearful eyes staring back at me. I stroked his hair tentatively. All the previous tension and anger dissolved and he was my sunshine boy again, but these were mere pale winter beams, and it was my fault, and the realization chilled me to my bones. He was weeping silently under me, obscured by my clouds.
I moved slowly from between his legs and pulled him up into my embrace. He was reluctant at first, but slowly wrapped his arms around me. We just sat there for a while, cradling each other. “I could never…,” I whispered against the damp skin right above his collarbone. “I’m just a terrible, jealous guy.”
“No, I made you jealous. I didn’t mean to, I didn’t realize…”
He couldn’t have. He’s the one who always lets his feelings pour out of him. I’ve always struggled with this. Not that I didn’t want to tell what was bothering me, I just couldn’t translate the whirlwind of my thoughts into coherent sentences. Just tell me what’s wrong, Tom. My previous lovers often lost patience with me. They always thought I didn’t want to talk and then our arguments ended with them giving up on me. Not him. He tried to make me laugh, he tried to make me yell, he tried to seduce me and he let me take all of him. I held him tight. I couldn’t let go. I was on the verge of tears, but it was him who needed comfort. I just hoped that I could give it to him. It was him who finally broke the silence.
“Tom…” It was barely a whisper.
“Yes?”
“I just hope you know I love you.”
I finally loosened the embrace to look at him. My mouth was dry and my throat felt constricted, but I somehow managed to force out at least a weak “I do.” But that wasn’t enough. I knew I needed to say more: “…yes, baby, you’ve been telling me…I’m sorry,” I croaked. He took a deep breath and continued.
“But hearing is not the same as feeling it…and,” he cleared his throat,”...and sometimes I need to feel it too. Sometimes it feels like you’re not even present. In your secret hiding place behind a thick wall and I just can’t get in!”
I buried my face in my hands. I needed a minute to process the evening’s events. “So, you seek it elsewhere?” I regretted those words almost instantly, but at least I finally forced myself to speak.
“What do you mean? God, no!”
“No, not like that. I mean all those people, the plug. You didn’t really expl…”
“I already told you! I wanted to share what we have.”
“By letting them touch you…”
“Cut it already!” He slapped the mattress, furious once again. “Yes, maybe you’re right…to a certain extent,” he spat out at me. “Yes, I let them touch me. I share a lot with people. It’s fulfilling and it feels natural. But it’s a different kind of love. And they understand. They didn’t grab at me, no one tried to pull me in. I share a lot with them but I don’t belong to them. But I agree with you that it's very personal. I thought about doing that for quite a while, but couldn’t find the courage to do so…unless I felt you there with me. I do miss you there. Sometimes I just miss you… anyway, about the plug…I guess today felt like a perfect day to try it. Please just tell me you understand, because I’m getting really sick of this.”
The plug was a gift from me, so yeah, I understood…kind of. Touch is important to him. But... “But why today?”
“Oh Tom,” he was tearful again. “Oh, fuck you. Really. It’s exactly three years since the day you first told me that you loved me.”
I just stared at him for a while, speechless. Then I finally lost it and started crying. “I’m a terrible person.” I felt like shit, I treated him like shit and really deserved to get a taste of my own medicine, in one way or another. But Josh is not like that. He doesn’t do that. And so it was now his turn to hug me, even though I tried to back away at first. But he’s stubborn, too. “You know, Tom, I felt it today. Among other things…”
“Forgive me.”
“Nothing to forgive. I understand.”
“No, you don’t... Listen Josh, I don’t need you to protect me. If anything, it should be the other way round. But I do need to feel like I belong in your life. I…I’m not sure I could continue like this.”
Here, I finally said that. I had been afraid to utter those words aloud, because I knew they were dangerous. I expected another argument to follow, and maybe it would be the last one this time. But he only sighed and I felt him nod lightly against my shoulder. “I guess we need to make some inevitable changes then.”
I knew what he meant, but this was not just about me. And it was not just me who he’d been trying to protect. Himself, too, but also others in a way…
“Are you ready to make those changes?”
“I guess so…”
We looked each other in the eye once more, trying to communicate the rest. At last I stood up and offered him my hand. “Come on, let me fix you a nice, hot bath.”
“No.” He took it but didn’t move. Instead, he tried to pull me back to bed.
“No?”
“No Tom, come back here, please. Make love to me.”
He was sooo good at playing with my heartstrings. He really wanted me. He still trusted me. And from the look on his face, he needed me. I climbed back to him, took his face in my hands and kissed it. I traced my parted lips across his cheek and down to his jaw. He was like the oxygen I needed in order to stay alive and I was breathing him in. I continued upwards until our lips finally locked together. It was the first genuine kiss we shared that evening.
How…?
“Spoon me.” As he lay down, I retrieved the previously discarded tube from the floor, lubed my fingers and cock once again and snuggled behind him. I didn’t rush it, and repeated the process once more that evening. I was nothing but tender this time, but he thought otherwise. He took my hand that was stroking his bare chest, placed it on his neck and tilted his head back. “Choke me.”
“Josh, I…you…”
“Shhh, just do it. Please.”
And I did. I wrapped my fingers around his throat and pulled him firmly back towards me. It wasn’t harsh. He let himself be completely vulnerable with me and I wanted to cherish it. I just rested my hand there, holding him firmly, but not with too much pressure. I could feel his pulse beating against my palm, every intake of breath. This was different than before. A moment of raw intimacy. He arched his back and reached behind to grab the back of my head. He knows I like that. I rewarded him with slow and deep thrusts, just how he loves it. He was moaning melodically to the rhythm, singing a secret song just for me now, and we rocked in tandem slowly, meeting each other halfway. Nothing else was necessary, this was everything.
I took control again soon. Quickening my pace, I thrusted into him with a frantic urge. Goosebumps appeared all over his skin, which told me that he was very close. He always got shivers when he was approaching orgasm while I fucked him. Almost as if he was feverish. “Maddening ecstasy” – those were his words with which he once described it. I could feel him tense and tighten around me and rolled my hips once more to hit that perfect spot. “Oh my ggggnnnh Toooooohmmm….,” he let out a high pitched scream and came hard, his whole body convulsing.
He was literally sobbing. I slowed my movements to a near stop and held his shivering body tight in my arms, waiting for his breathing to slow down. I was just about to pull out when he started moving again against me, urging me to continue, but I grabbed his hip and made him stop. He looked up at me, frowning. “What?”
“Are you sure? It’s been a long night…”
“No, Tom, don’t worry…come on, go on.”
I moved again tentatively, looking for any clue of his discomfort. He encouraged me again and I gradually resumed my pace. It didn’t take long. With a final groan, I buried my face in his hair, holding his now almost limp and exhausted body pressed to mine while I threshed about in an almost comical way, keeping him swaying in unison with me. We shifted a bit so that he was lying on his belly now, me hovering above him. With the last few erratic thrusts I filled him up and we finally collapsed together into the pillows.
We barely moved for at least another ten minutes, limbs still intertwined, eyes closed and our torsos literally glued together with sweat. Both of us simply wanted to prolong the moment, but I was slowly becoming aware of the world around us. We had left the glass door leading to the balcony open and the evening breeze finally pulled us back to reality.
“Josh?”
“Yeah?”
“I think a few people might have overheard us.”
“Uh huh…ok…good.”
“I love you.”
“I know.”
Love sticks, sweat drips
Break the lock if it don't fit
A kick in the teeth is good for some
A kiss with a fist is better than none
(Florence and the Machine)
@writingcold @edgingthedarkness @its-interesting-van-kleep @thewritingbeforesunrise @lvnterninthenight @jakekiszkasbuttsweat @takenbythemadness @fleet-of-fiction
#greta van fleet#josh kiszka#josh gvf#gvf fanfiction#greta van smut#greta van fic#greta van fleet fic#greta van fleet fanfiction#greta van fleet fanfic#josh kiszka fanfiction#josh kiszka smut#slash fanfiction
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gave me no compasses, gave me no signs
2 of 6 ★ 6013 words
previous — masterlist — next
— warnings: none
The three weeks you have before your move absolutely fly by like no time at all. And so does your friends’ state of shock when the words ‘New York’ first left your mouth. It barely lingers before celebration continues and you party the whole night away.
Avni ends up getting a cake, like she promised, and decks the boy’s flat out in obnoxious Poundland decor. Ross stands on a chair to hang streamers from the ceiling. You drink cheap wine, smoke some more, and everyone shares the cake by each taking your own forks to it, instead of cutting it into slices.
At one point you’re so drunk that you willingly pose for a photo. It happens when Greta passes out on the sofa, and Hann and George take it upon themselves to smear cake all over her face. It makes you giggle like a toddler—the fact that they somehow did it without waking her—and you laugh until you cry, belly completely sore. You hand your camera over to Matty, telling him to capture you pointing at the sleepy, icing-covered Gret with tears spilling out of the corners of your eyes.
He isn’t sure why you find it so funny but your laugh makes him laugh and he loses it when watching you through the viewfinder. He clicks through the previews once he’s done taking them, grinning with adoration at the pure joy on your face, thankful for the rare occasion that it’ll appear on your memory card.
For a second, he forgets that you’re moving. But then, he remembers again, and downs more wine to forget for a bit longer.
It’s a completely bittersweet feeling. You feel their genuine happiness for you and your success; no trace of envy or doubt. They’re your biggest supporters. But underneath, there’s an inevitable sadness surrounding your departure, and the clock only ticks louder and louder as the number of days until your flight departs continues to dwindle.
The sadness feels realer when your last weekend in Manchester comes around and you realise that it’s the last gig you’ll be in town for. Your camera’s in hand, like always, and you act normal—but the drinks you have before the boys go on stage taste too strong, or maybe too weak. The collar on your shirt keeps poking at your ear and you consider asking the bartender if he has a pair of scissors to cut it off. Maybe you’ll ask him to cut your ear off too, while he’s at it.
You’re not sure what’s wrong, at first. But then you just realise that you’re just really sad.
Avni can tell that you’re having a bit of a moment. She wraps her arm around your shoulder and leans her head into yours. Gret notices, taking her hand and giving yours a squeeze with it. You smile, and lower your camera to try and stay grounded. There are thousands of photos you’ve taken and will take in the future—but only one moment like this.
The stare you usually chase while the band performs—the one belonging to Matty—is the one to find yours first, for once. You melt instantly when it lingers. His eyebrows raise for a second, to acknowledge your eye contact, and the corners of his mouth tug upwards into a smile.
To Matty, it feels like a privilege to be perceived by you without your camera obstructing the attention. Sure, you never photograph for the full show, frequently watching and dancing freely without your device. And you look at him plenty when he isn’t performing.
But this feels different. He feels you seeing him. Knowing him. Not looking, or watching. Something that couldn’t be captured. So, he doesn’t look away. He holds your gaze until the song ends, only breaking it to adjust the capo on the neck of his guitar and start the next song.
The stare makes a lightbulb go off in his mind.
There’s suddenly a lull of silence. Matty chats to George for a couple of seconds instead of continuing the set. It was bizarre, and your eyes flicker between each of the boys to figure out what’s going on. The curly headed boy turns to each member individually when they’re about to start, and stalls even longer.
He eventually approaches his microphone again. “We’ve just decided to switch things up a bit,” Matty explains. “This is a new one. Sorry if it sounds rubbish, we don’t really have the right equipment to play it well. But I hope you like it.”
You see Ross mumble something back in his direction, and then Matty laughs and quickly says, “Ross has just corrected me and said that we’ve not decided to switch things up, I have. Which is true,” with a chuckle. The people listening laugh quietly with him.
Droning chords from Adam’s keyboard sound through the air. Ross’s bass kicks in, supporting the melody from beneath, and George taps calmly at his kit. It’s slow. You don’t recognise it.
Now, Matty’s looking at you again. You and the girls stand at the front of the crowd, as always, but tucked away and off to the right. He’s been staring from his place in the centre of the stage; so your eyes slightly widen when Matty detaches his mic from its stand so he can move freely. He passes Ross to settle directly in front of you.
“What time are you coming out?”
He stumbles the lyrics out of his mouth rhythmically and all you can think about is the way his lips move as the music progresses.
“Don’t you see me? I
I think I’m falling
I’m falling for you,”
You notice that he stays unusually still. The song has an undeniable melancholy that strays from their rather frenetic catalogue. He seems focused.
“Don’t you need me? I
I think I’m falling
I’m falling for you,”
It takes you an embarrassingly long amount of time to realise that Matty isn’t just still and focused because it’s a new song. He’s still and focused on you. And he isn’t looking at you, he’s singing to you.
“Soon you will be mine, oh
But I want you now.
I want you now,”
The venue you stand in is bigger than the normal pubs the band usually books, so its stage is elevated, and as Matty keeps singing, he crouches into a squat. He’s now only inches from your face, eye-to-eye with you. You feel his breath on your skin.
“I don’t want to be your friend
I want to kiss your neck,”
You’re not sure if you’re breathing or if your lungs are stuck in place. It feels like the latter.
At first you refuse to break his regard, but when you see it begin to dart all around your face, you copy him. He watches the way your eyelashes come together every time you blink, and how the dryness of your lips increases as you breathe out of your mouth. A few of your eyebrow hairs stick up and sit unruly from always being scrunched against the cold metal of your camera.
Meanwhile, you follow his left hand with your eyes when the back of it drags across his bottom lip. There’s nothing there to wipe, but he completes the action anyway. The bridge of his nose and the skin between his eyes wrinkle when his brows furrow, to reach a certain note.
“I think I'm falling, I'm falling for you
On this night
and in this light,”
He sounds amazing. You’re hypnotised by his words and how they sound. His commitment to studying every inch of your face as he sings them makes you consider the possibility of them being about you.
But who are you kidding? Of course they’re about you.
Even if you suddenly forgot how to speak English, or had never met him in your life, or hated the song—Matty’s eyes tell you exactly what he means to say.
He thinks he’s falling.
The music comes to a stop and applause roars from the audience. Gret and Avni stand with their mouths agape, clapping with limply shocked hands. They take turns looking between you and Matty in an attempt to even begin to understand what had just happened. The boys watch in content amusement from their respective spots. But you and Matty don’t move.
Then, he reaches for your hand. It fits into his nicely, but it’s cold and a bit clammy. He says your name and waits for you to say something, but you come to learn that you can’t hear anything at all. Your ears are too full and too muffled but are also ringing with emptiness. The lights brighten and don’t help your sudden circuit overload.
You’re overwhelmed with the way Matty is still looking at you, knowing you, what it means, what it will feel like to leave, why he keeps looking at your mouth, the way his hand felt in yours, how long you’ve been dying for it to be there—and how you could possibly say anything worthy.
Then, all you feel is sorry. You’re sorry that you don’t have a song, or the words, or any idea of what you’re feeling or have ever felt or will ever feel. Because what you feel is so enormous. It’s suddenly catastrophic, and you’re lost in its density.
Your lungs definitely are stuck in place, as you feared.
So you drop his hand. Finally breathe. And you get out as quickly as you can.
—
There’s a couple days of silence between you and Matty. As much as it hurts you, and you’re sure it hurts him, there’s a million other things on your mind and that you have to do before you leave, so you’re too busy to contemplate what happened at the gig any further.
You work your final shift at Cafe North, and then your parents come over from Macclesfield to take the belongings that can’t come with you. They’re going to store all of it at their house, just so the girls don’t have to deal with it. You wonder if Greta and Avni will look for a new roommate while you’re gone, or if they’ll just split your portion of the rent; and secretly hope they choose the latter, as unreasonable as it is.
They don’t mention Matty to you either, which surprises you. You guess they can sense your commitment to avoidance and decide to respect that. You’re not sure what they think, or if they know what Matty thinks. Any time they tell you that they’re heading over to the boys’ flat, or whenever you get a message from Hann or George or Ross that invites you to join, you politely decline.
You do the same when they offer to assist with your move. You apologise profusely, saying that you’re swamped, and explain that your mum and dad are plenty of help. Which they know is true, so they tell you not to worry and that they don’t mind.
But you do worry, and you know that they do mind. They want to spend as much time with you as possible before they can’t anymore, and you’re getting in the way of that.
You’re thankful that your parents don’t ask about the band, or the guys, so that you don’t have to spend time explaining it to them. They’ve known the whole group fairly well since you became friends in secondary school, but they don’t tend to ask about your personal life much at all. For once, you find their emotional distance quite soothing.
It’s now the morning they’re scheduled to head back home, and your mother takes one last look at your room to see if there’s anything else they should take. You look around with her, explaining that most of the items she asks about will be coming to New York with you.
“Even this?” Your father asks, lifting a plastic baggie that sits in front of your closet. It looks quite out of place, so you don’t blame him for asking, but you know what its contents are.
“Yeah, that’s staying here. I think I should be alright with the rest,” you confirm.
So, they pack all of your shit into the boot of their car, and bid you goodbye. Their eyes are dry and their smiles are the same ones they show every Christmas when you come home and then subsequently leave again. It’s another Wednesday for them, you guess, and their nonchalant response to you moving across the world wasn’t anything unexpected.
Your eyes, on the other hand, grow a bit damp. You blink quickly to prevent any tears from falling. But, you don’t feel particularly sad to see them leave.
The way you mutter a ‘See you soon’ and watch them drive away just makes you realise that it’s the first of your many goodbyes.
—
The crinkled bag that your dad mentions has a quilted blanket in it. It’s Matty’s.
A couple of months ago, you were up late at the guys’ flat to sort out your memory card. He was helping decide what photos were best for promotion or to put on potential merchandise and which could be deleted. It was supposed to take an hour at most, but you’d gotten sidetracked (and then way too high), going through years and years worth of pictures. For no particular reason, really. Nostalgia, maybe.
You stayed for so long that the two of you woke up the next morning—necks sore from sleeping on the sofas—and you were far too tired to unwrap the blanket from your body before heading back to your flat.
It’s been sitting in the corner of your room since then. Realistically, you’re sure that Matty hasn’t even noticed its absence. But after sitting in the emptiness of your once fruitful room, and thinking about the fact that tonight would be the last time you see the whole group together before leaving; you makeup your mind. You should talk to Matty.
So, you walk down with the blanket in hand and give the door a knock. George answers.
“Y/N!” He says excitedly. “What’s up? We’re not late, are we? I thought we agreed for 7—”
“We did,” you interrupt before he can continue worrying, “I just wanted to talk, you know. To Matty. He’s here, right?”
George’s eyes fill with understanding, and he mutters a quiet ‘Oh’. Then he nods his head, and flicks it into the direction of his room, telling you wordlessly where you can find him. He stands to the side as you step in and make your way.
You knock gently. “It’s me. Can I come in?”
Matty recognises your voice immediately, but is surprised to hear it. He nearly thinks he’s just imagined it and that it’s actually Ross at his door or something, but when he yells, “Go ahead,” and sees you open the door, he confirms that he isn’t losing it. It’s actually you.
You look stressed, and tired. He guesses that you probably are stressed and tired. There’s a dullness to your skin, and your hair hasn’t been washed in a few days, but Matty still looks at you with wonderment. Your eyes are welcoming, like they always are, and he feels relieved to see them after the days that have passed without having the privilege.
He wants to spring out of bed and pull you in for a hug, take back everything he’s done, ask you to forget about it, and beg for things to go back to normal—how they used to be. But he knows he can’t, and shouldn’t, and that making things go back to normal isn’t what he really wants. So after you enter and close the door behind you, he lets you speak first.
“This is yours.” Your arm stretches out to drop the blanket onto his bed, where he sat. He looks at it, and chuckles.
“Sure you don’t want to take it with you?” There’s a teasing and sarcastic tone in his voice that makes you smile out of habit.
“I’ve stuffed my bags to the brim, so no.” You admit.
He doesn’t say anything back, so the room goes quiet. It’s actually a bit awkward. You’re still standing, too scared to sit down with him and too stubborn to exit and bail. I probably should have thought of something to say, you consider internally.
Thankfully, after a prolonged silence, Matty’s voice slices through it.
“You’ve always known that you’d choose New York, huh?”
You’re confused, wondering why he’s asking about that instead of his weekend serenade. But you finally fathom that in the wake of your internship news, there’s something else on his mind.
He’s the only one who sees through your lie.
You nod, not knowing what else to say. ��How’d you know?”
He taps the spot on his bed next to him, inviting you to sit. You oblige with timidness.
“Because you’re my best friend and I know you, Y/N. I know that you’re too uptight to apply for an internship without knowing everything about it, let alone decide to move across the world on a whim.” Matty explains, exasperated, and seemingly a bit frustrated. “I also know that you’re probably blaming how uptight you are on the fact that you’re a Virgo, which drives me up the wall.”
You have to stifle a smile when he mentions your interest in astrology, but feel a bit deflated at the fact that he thinks you’re uptight—though you know that he has a point. He knows you better than you think he does. It makes you feel worse.
Before you can respond, Matty starts again. “Why’d you lie this whole time?”
“I was scared. I still am,” you try to explain, “I had this thought that nobody would believe I’d have it in me or secretly be relieved that I’ll be gone. London just seemed like a safer bet. Less embarrassing if I failed,”
You search the look on his face for any hints of anger. Thankfully, you don’t find any, but you don’t find much happiness either.
“We’d never be relieved for you to go, are you insane?” He remarks.
“A bit, probably.” You joke, and Matty laughs quietly. It’s a harmonious sound. His mouth falls back into a straight line afterwards.
“I honestly thought I’d get rejected and then wouldn’t have to explain myself. Then of course they had to go on and want me,” you continue, trying to make light of his stern expression. It doesn’t work. “I’m sorry for lying. I wish I didn’t.” You finish quietly.
He fiddles with the loose stitching of the blanket you’ve just returned, then his eyes find yours.
“Did you not like the song?”
There it is. The thing you came to discuss.
Shockingly, Matty asking the dreaded question didn’t feel as scary as you anticipate. He just seems absolutely desperate to know your answer.
“Don’t be stupid, Matty. Of course I liked it.” You respond.
He softens momentarily but then furrows his brows.
“Don’t call me stupid. I have every right to think that you hated it after you ran away and ignored me for days.” Matty argues.
Guilt washes over you. You try and figure out why you even did it—how you could possibly let him believe anything that wasn’t the truth. He wrote you a song, and you dropped his hand.
“I ran away because I think I’m falling too.”
Matty let his heart flutter for a second. “Do you hear how confusing that sounds?”
“Yeah, I do. And I feel terrible. But I felt like everything was crashing down on me,” You explain. You swallow what feels like a toad in your throat.
“You see—that’s the difference,” starts Matty, “Singing that song to you made me float.”
“It was amazing, Matty. I think we were both floating. Nothing else mattered to me but you, for those couple of minutes. But then I came back down to Earth,” It becomes difficult to hold his gaze, so you look at your hands. “The panic I felt afterwards was just an amalgamation of everything changing and how afraid it made me, you know? I’m so sorry that I took that out on you. I opted for saying nothing instead of risking saying the wrong thing,” you ramble.
When you look up at him again, a soft smile floods his face. Something makes you think it’s a smile of forgiveness, but you aren’t sure. There’s still a hint of heartache in his stare.
“You could have said anything. It’s easy to at least say something,” he says.
“Maybe it’s easy for you.” You defend.
It is easy, on the other hand, for you to stare at his mouth. Matty picks at the dry skin on his lips with his fingers. You watch him alternate between that and nipping at the skin around his nails with his teeth. He’s watching you watch, and you see him copy and let his eyes flicker down to your lips a couple of times; but you ignore it.
The silence that washes over the room only allows your thoughts to increase in volume. You think of how great his family has always been to you. The times you’d both party too hard at someone’s house in secondary school and had to take turns holding each other’s hair as you wretched. How he always opts to sit next to you, whether you’re in a pub or on a basement sofa or on the train. The way his lips find themselves pressed against your cheek every time you part.
And lastly, how it’s not like this with anyone else. Because maybe you’ve both already fallen.
“Why did you wait so long? To tell me?” You suddenly ask.
He chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.
“You’re not the only one who’s allowed to be afraid, darling.”
You look at him and you’re both frowning. It feels like he’s angry at you, even though you know he’s more angry at the circumstances.
The only way you know how to relieve the heavy air between you two is to get up and go. Leaving seems to be what you do best, after all. So, you use your hands to push yourself up off Matty’s mattress and take a step towards his door.
A hand grips your wrist before you can get any further. He stands up with you, and turns you around, bringing you face-to-face. The sudden movement makes you gasp.
It’s the closest your faces have ever been. The edge of Matty’s bed nudges the back of his calves, preventing him from creating any space between your bodies; but even if he had all the space in the world to move backwards, you have a feeling that he still wouldn’t.
“What’re you doing?” You pose with your voice barely a whisper.
You’re too scared to say it any louder, and even though you ask, it’s rhetorical. Matty’s eyes are trained on your lips now, instead of the quick glances you‘d catch him sneaking earlier in your conversation. You know that he’s fighting the urge to kiss you.
Your breathing speeds up as you do the same, searching his eyes for permission and internally begging him to just do it.
“Can I kiss you?” Matty mumbles, too caught up in the moment to enunciate clearly, inching even closer. Your noses are almost touching.
“Please,” you mutter back, nodding your head to confirm.
He closes the gap and finally takes your lips in his. Your hand migrates up to his jaw as your eyes flutter shut, sighing in satisfaction. It feels good to be kissing Matty. It feels right. Like you should have been doing it all along.
His fingers creep around your waist and it makes you shiver. He holds you tight, like he’s afraid you’ll fall apart when he lets go. You’ve never felt safer.
Suddenly, your tongue’s in his mouth, and Matty is sitting atop his mattress and bringing you down to straddle his thighs. There’s something so familiar about him feeling the soft skin on the small of your back with his calloused hands even though it should be foreign.
Then it’s his tongue’s turn to explore your mouth, and you stifle a quiet moan. Matty does the same when you run your fingers through his hair and tug lightly. He hums into your lips as they move in sync with his.
When your hips subconsciously roll, he has to pull away and catch his breath. Your foreheads lean together and you hesitate to open your eyes. But you’re dying to look at him, desperate to see his face, so you back yours away and do anyway.
You’re immediately met with Matty’s gaze. You smile sheepishly through your heavy breathing. The fact that you’ve just made out with your best friend starts to sink in, so a wave of nerves wash over you. Giddiness wipes them away almost immediately.
He squeezes your hips and your hands still sit in his hair. You take one of them and brush the curls that dangle down out of his face to see him fully. He’s beautiful, even at this close of a distance.
Matty’s eyes dart to your lips once more, so you give him one more quick peck to satisfy his curiosities. He chuckles at the fact that you knew exactly what he was thinking.
What shocks you is the first thing he utters after making your stomach flip upside down.
“Please don’t go.”
It’s less of a phrase and more of a plea. His voice is quiet and bleak.
Matty hides his face in your neck while he says it. You feel him pepper light kisses above your collarbone. When he keeps going, your eyes find themselves shutting in pleasure once again. The way his lips make you feel is an easy excuse to ignore whether he was serious with his words or not. But then, he does the contemplation for you.
“I’m not kidding, Y/N,” Matty whispers, “Stay with me.”
You peel him off of you. “What? Matty, come on—”
“Jamie’s gonna sign us to his label for cheap so we can start releasing stuff. Our gigs are selling out, he says we have a few opening act opportunities lined up! He has connections. Things are looking the best they’ve looked in years. We’ll be on tour and you could be our photographer! I’d hate to work with anyone else—you’re such an integral part of this artistically—I can talk to him about a contract,”
The words flow out of him with haste and desperation. Matty says it all while burning his gaze into your eyes. A feverish energy seeped out of his skin and you could feel it on yours. His hands rose to cup your face gently, begging you to say something. Anything.
“Nobody gets me like you. We can make something out of this, right? You and me? Don’t you think so?” he insists.
Your heart sinks to your feet. The brown in his eyes drips innocently and its warmth swallows you whole. Stop looking at me like that, you beg internally.
“I don’t want you to think that I don’t feel the same way, but,” You begin painfully, watching his curiously furrowed brows turn to confusion. “I’m going to New York, Matty. As much as I might like to—I can’t just stay for you,”
He removes his hands from your face and sits them on your thighs instead. “You wouldn’t just be staying for me. You’d stay for the band, Y/N. You and I have always dreamed of this, our big break is so close I can taste it—”
Matty’s words hit and ignite a bit of fury within you. It forces you to interrupt him with the thing you think he seems to not understand.
“The band’s success is really important to me, you’re right. But I can’t give everything up for that. Matty—that’s your dream.”
“I mean, when you put it like that—”
“New York is my dream.”
—
The late spring weather is nice in Manhattan.
You have a reporting manager from ELLE, Ben, who picks you up at the airport. He explains that you won’t be working with him, but that he’s the person you should contact in regards to your contract, your work visa, or your housing. So, he then shows you to the flat—or apartment, you guess—that you’ll be staying in for the year. It’s very central and within walking distance of anything you can imagine needing to access. It also has a functioning lift, which is a pleasant change.
He helps you get all of your bags into your room. There’s a bed in the corner and a set of drawers that doubles as a desk, and a cramped closet. It’ll do.
“Your roommate’s from Toronto and came over a bit early since it’s so nearby. She’s been in the apartment for a week or so, so she can give you a tour when she gets back. Knows the place way better than me.” He explains as you plonk your bottom onto your mattress. You stand back up quickly, thinking of the fact that you should probably put the sheet set you brought onto the bed before getting comfortable.
“Thank you,” you say graciously, “For all the help, and for showing me around. I’ll make sure to let you know if I need anything.”
Ben smiles. “Please do! I’ll check in on you once in a while, too. I do have the best food recommendations for these couple of blocks, so even if it’s just for that—reach out anytime,”
And then he’s gone, and it’s just you. It’s weirdly quiet. You expect New York to be busy and bustling—which it is, from what you saw in the taxi over from the airport—but the craziness seems to begin outside your window. The space inside feels pretty calm.
You thank whatever god blessed you with some time alone before meeting your roommate, so you can do some unpacking and gather up your messy thoughts. Keeping busy might distract you from the anxiety threatening to escape from your pores.
You break open your bags and make your bed, stuff most of your clothes into the closet and then fold whatever didn’t fit. You place your laptop on the flat top of the drawers, along with your camera bag, a couple of books, your jewellery dish and its collection of rings. The room quickly looks like a tornado hit it, and in perfect timing, your roommate arrives back and stands in the doorway.
She stands tall and slim and has trendy clothes on. She wears a smile on her face too, which comforts you, but the embarrassment of her seeing the pigsty of your belongings ultimately prevails. Your face goes red before she even spots you within the chaos.
Her eyes catch yours after scanning the room. “Y/N, right?”
You scramble to your feet and stick your hand out for her to shake. “Yes! God, I’m a mess, sorry. You must be Julia,”
She nods her head and grasps your hand firmly. “Oh please, don’t apologise. My room still looks just like this and I’ve been here nine days,”
“That makes me feel a lot better, thank you,” you chuckle together.
“I can show you around if you want a break from unpacking?” Julia poses. You agree.
The kitchen is bigger than the one you share with the girls back home. You see that your new roommate has her stuff neatly labelled and placed in bins when you open the fridge and a few of the cupboards. Wow, she is organised, you think to yourself. Then you make a mental note to get some of your own to do the same.
You walk around to the living room and are glad to see that it’s furnished, but all of the furniture points at an empty wall. You guess you’ll have to survive without a TV. But you can think of worse things to have to survive without, so you stop yourself from complaining.
Then you’re led to the bathroom that you and Julia have to share. The shower looks fairly new and it seems like she;s kept it clean so far, which you appreciate. You don’t like the colour of the tile, though. Your Manchester flat had a cute pink hue to its shower, and this one was beige and boring. The tile shouldn’t matter, but it makes you unexpectedly sad. You think about Avni and Greta and what they might be doing without you.
Julia avoids showing you her room, so once you’ve seen everything else (there wasn’t much to look at, anyway), you depart back to your room and she makes dinner for herself. Since you’re still full from the complimentary plane meal and running on UK time, you grow quite tired. It’s 8 o’clock and you climb into pyjamas to sneak underneath the covers.
You sit up and scroll on your laptop through your schedule for the rest of the week. It’s busy, but exciting. You look at ELLE’s editorial campaigns online with admiration, finally wrapping your head around the crazy opportunity you’re about to embark on. There’s nothing you’ve wanted more.
But then, you head to Facebook. Your dashboard is pretty quiet, since it’s two in the morning for most of your friends, but you surf anyway. The band’s page comes up.
The whole group drove you down to the train station, where you then travelled to Heathrow for your flight. You all cram into the back of their van with your hoard of bags. Many tears are shed, especially by Avni, and hugging them for the final time is painful.
Nobody's aware about what happened in Matty's room that last day—as far as you know—so you act normal when the guys come over for dinner afterwards. Matty refuses to speak to you directly, you and him only interacting with each other when someone else is there as a buffer. You don’t really make an effort either.
There is still an underlying hurt between you two. It's an intersection of Matty’s feelings of rejection and your frustration from his selfishness. Leaving things in limbo to avoid complicating things even further seems like the only option.
But, when saying goodbye at the station, you embrace Matty for extra long. You hug him like he’s your best friend—because he is—and push aside the whirlwind of events that seemed to muddle everything at the worst possible time. You shake your head at how stupid you were to let it get in the way of your last moments together. Matty even holds on a little longer after you try to pull away the first time.
Seeing the posts on the band’s Facebook wall makes you miss them even more (though it’s only been a day), so you shut your laptop and roll over.
You lay there, staring at the ceiling, and think about the feeling of Matty’s lips on yours. How easy it felt, how his palms ran over your skin. You wish you had the chance to kiss him again before leaving.
The droning chords and pulsating beat of the song he sang to you fill your new room. It doesn’t really, but since you attempt to relive it so intensely, a part of you thinks you can actually hear it.
A tear runs down your cheek and onto your pillow. You wipe it away, embarrassed to be crying over a boy when you know you’ll wake up the next morning to attend the first day of your dream job.
You focus on the sounds of Julia walking around the kitchen and then watch the traffic light outside your window turn from green to yellow, to try and flood him from your thoughts. Nevertheless, they persist.
We can make something out of this, right? You and me?
His words echo in your mind and you fall asleep, bittersweetly thinking of an alternate universe where you say yes.
#thread of gold#matty healy#the 1975#matty healy fanfiction#the 1975 fanfiction#matty healy fic#matty healy fanfic#matty healy x reader#matty healy x y/n#matty healy x you#fanfiction#fluff#angst
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