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rainydayathogwarts · 4 months

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Precious, drunk boyfriend - Remus Lupin

Summary: In which Remus gets more drunk than he ever has and clings onto his girlfriend for dear life. Warnings: Public sex (but the room is empty), fingering, drunk sex (but consensual), established relationship wc: 1.4k

It was odd, to say the least. Remus Lupin was usually the more put together of the four boys; he smoked a cigarette by the open window with a beer in his hand, watching as the party roared around him. He would laugh at the sight of his best friends embarrassing themselves and always had open arms to welcome his girlfriend in, hugging you tightly as you drunkenly slurred words of affection at him. James now wondered if this was just payback for all the nights Remus had to look after them.

Remus hiccuped loudly, his head leaning back on the pillows. He tried straightening up with a wobble while James and Sirius exchanged a look of worry. "Where is she?" Remus slurred, looking around as he finally stood up. "She's gonna fucking kill us if she sees what we did to her precious boyfriend" Whisper-yelled Sirius as he and James rushed over behind Remus, who was confidently strutting over to where you and Marlene danced together. "Rem! Since when do you dance?" You giggled upon seeing your boyfriend, only to squeal when his hands snaked around your waist, harshly tugging you towards him.

You gasped, putting both your hands on his chest and looking up at him curiously. You were drunk enough to enjoy the special attention from your boyfriend, but not too much to miss the fact that this wasn't the ordinary Remus. "Remus?" He hummed distractedly, beginning to pull you towards the other side of the common room, where you instantly made eye contact with three very guilty looking teenage boys. "Peter, talk." You said, pointedly looking at the boy, knowing he could never lie to you. "Shh, don't look at Pete. You don't need him, just me." You couldn't help but laughing as your boyfriend pushed you down onto a couch. He sat down next to you, digging his head into the crook of your neck where he immediately started leaving kisses, whilst his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

Your eyes widened when Remus started to suck on the soft skin on your neck and you looked back at James, Sirius and Peter. "What did you guys do to him?" Peter looked down at his shoes, beginning to mumble under his breath, but it was Sirius who finally spoke. "Well, we all took a couple of shots together but that was it! The rest was all him!" You looked at them suspiciously, trying to push away Remus's head from the crook of your neck.

"Rem? Remus, sweetheart?" He pulled away from your neck, only to trail his kisses upwards, pressing some on your jawline and the side of your face. "You're so beautiful." A kiss on your jawline. "How can you be so beautiful and smart and kind at the same time?" Another kiss. "Fuck, when you come to me and sit on my laps after classes..." He took a long pause, and for a second you thought he was asleep "You make me feel so important. I love you. Only love you." You smiled down at him, brushing a strand of hair away from his eyes.

He wasn't going to remember anything in the morning.

"Rem?" "Mhmm?" "Want to come for a smoke with me?" And he was immediately up on his feet, tripping over air so that James had to clutch him by the shoulders so he wouldn't fall. Nothing would separate that boy from his cigarettes. You nodded your head towards the back of the main common room, making your way to a more secluded room within the common room, heading straight to the window. Remus blindly followed your footsteps, sitting in front of you on the window nook. He watched intently as you opened the window from your side, and leaned forward towards your boyfriend. You opened his jacket, reaching for the inner pocket where he kept his cigarettes hidden.

"You're not warm? Don't want to take it off?" He nodded, shuffling so he could take off his jacket, leaving him in a plain black tank top. Your eyes raked over his exposed muscular arms and you chuckled lightly, looking down at the box in your hands. "What? Too handsome for you?" Remus muttered, leaning back on the wall behind him with a smug grin on his face. You shook your head, getting on your knees to move closer to him. You didn't get the chance to sit back down before Remus' hands were on your hips, lifting you up slightly so he could plant you on his laps.

You moved to straddle him, directly facing him, and leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips. One of his hands immediately migrated from your hip to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss so you were forced to open your mouth, allowing his tongue in. The hand on your hip moved to your front, beginning to unbutton the trousers you wore. You broke the kiss, panting "Remus, we can't!" "There's no one here though." "You're too drunk." He shook his head, both hands now working on your trousers, tugging them down your thighs as best he could with you straddling him.

"You're not taking advantage of me. Jus' wanna make you feel nice." His hand slipped down the front of your lacy underwear, immediately finding your clit, which he started rubbing circles on. You gasped, hips immediately bucking away from his cold touch. "Light?" Murmured Remus, looking up at you, then down at the pack of cigarettes in your hand. You nodded, reaching for a cigarette and lighting it up before putting it to your lips and inhaling deeply. You guided it between Remus' awaiting lips, and he mimicked your movements, blowing the cigarette away from your face. His hand continued its movements, and he inserted two fingers in your wet entrance.

He pumped his fingers in and out of you at a slow pace, watching where they connected with your entrance, his second hand holding your underwear to the side so he could see. You cried out, his pace quickening, his palm applying pressure on your clit every time he pumped his fingers inside your pussy. You tried squeezing your thighs together for more friction, throwing your head back in disappointment. "So needy. I'm already giving you my fingers and you want more?" You nodded your head at him, but whined when he laughed, grinding your hips down on his stilling hands. "Please, please Rem." You begged, your head digging into the crook of his neck.

You mimicked his earlier actions, starting to suck hickeys on his neck as his pace began to slowly increase again. His free hand followed your arm that was hanging over his shoulder, and he snatched the cigarette from between your fingers. He inhaled again, his breath hitching when you sucked on his sweet spot and he coughed out a moan, the white smoke dispersing in the room. You smiled against his neck, which he must have felt, because his pace on your cunt became unforgivably fast, the pressure on your clit becoming too much for you.

Your thighs started shaking and you rolled your hips, riding Remus' hand in search for your release. He twisted his hand, hitting a new angle inside of you which had you unraveling on top of him, almost as though he had just been teasing you the whole time. You moaned loudly, trying to bury your moans in Remus' neck, but they still echoed in the small room. You whimpered as Remus removed his hand from your cunt, the burning sensation in your thighs beginning to soothe. Your jaw went slack, gaping at Remus, who put his fingers in his mouth, humming contently as he tasted your juices. He wiped the excess saliva on his trousers so he could help you back into yours. He zipped and buttoned you up as you observed him, still in a daze.

Remus smiled up at you, offering you what was left of the cigarette. You took a long drag, settling down on Remus' laps, who tapped you on the ass as a sign to get up. "Come on sweetheart, let's go get you cleaned up." You staggered up, and Remus, now seemingly sober, took your hand in his as he re-pocketed the cigarette pack, leading you out of the room. When you got to the main common room, heading towards the stairs, you made eye contact with Sirius, who grinned widely at your shaky figure, eyes going back and forth between you and a satisfied Remus.

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lunarfleur · 9 months

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Like He Deserves ~ Earth 42! Miles Morales

Tagging: @juneberrie @sluggmuffin @hiyaitssans @enchanting-violet @nagi3seastorm @milesmolasses @luvjunie @n1cole-ghost @urfavnegronerd @hearts4hobie @mayeluvsu

Warnings:Lowkey depressive episode but nothing bad, just Miles being in a slump.

A/N: Me and @kombuuuu were talking about this, so this is my biggest contribution to the fandom.

This is x gender neutral reader!

The first thing Rio Morales noticed when she walked in the door was that your shoes were still there. They weren’t her son’s. She knew that.

She peeked into Miles’s bedroom. The lights were off, except for the candle lit on Miles’s desk. It made the room smell like vanilla. Miles loved vanilla candles. She leaned against the door frame when she heard small mumbles coming from his bed.

You laid on one side of the bed, wearing one of Miles’s t-shirts. He laid next to you while you ran your fingers over his face, pressing kisses over the skin.

“Dad woulda loved you,” Miles mumbled. You hummed in response. His voice was low and slurred, filled with exhaustion.

“Yeah?”

“I miss him, ya know?”

“I know.”

You kisses over his cheek and jaw, reaching your hand up to scratch his head.

“Will you stay with me until I fall asleep? I don’t want to be alone.”

You kissed his lips softly, humming.

“Of course.”

You exited his room 15 minutes later, closing the door behind you softly before walking into the living room. Rio looked up at you. You stopped dead in your tracks.

“Um, I was just leaving.” You forced the words out quickly.

It was 2 hours past the time you were supposed to leave. You had already texted your own guardian about being home late. Miles, however, had not texted his mother. He hadn’t thought.

“Sit with me.”

“What?”

“Come on, siéntate conmigo.” Rio patted the spot next to her on the couch. You hesitantly placed your bag on the floor and sat next to her. She sipped on some tea, leaving you waiting anxiously.

You knew Rio wasn’t fond of you. You just didn’t know why. You were always polite, offering to help around the house, never calling her by her first name. Yet, she was always giving you that same disproving look.

“She’ll warm up to you,” Miles always said. You doubted it.

“So-”

“Miles loves you.” She cut you off firmly, looking you in the eyes.

“I know.” She paused for a moment, only for a moment, before sighing.

“That boy has always been a giver. He gives and he gives. It’s around this time of year he seems to run dry.”

You nodded. Of course you knew. It was around the anniversary of his dad’s death. He missed his dad more than anything. It always had an affect on him.

“I can’t tell you how you feel about him,” she continued, “but if you’re just going to end up hurting him, then I don’t want you to come back. His entire life Miles has given. It’s time he gets something back. It’s what he deserves.”

You thought on it. Miles was always giving. Always offering. He offered to do your homework, to make your food. Never once had he made you feel anything less than loved.

“Believe me, mam. I’d set myself on fire before I ever hurt him.”

Rio went quiet for a minute, thinking about your words. You couldn’t help but wonder what was going through her head.

“My son has a good heart.”

“I know.”

“You need to be careful with it.”

“I’d be a moron to be anything less.”

Rio nodded at you.

“You need to love him like he deserves.”

“I do.”

For the first time since you had met her, she smiled at you. At you. And it wasn’t forced, it was genuine. It was warm. It reminded you of all the times Miles had smiled at you.

“Do you?”

“I do.”

Rio nodded again, exhaling in satisfaction. That was it, apparently. That’s all she wanted.

You stood up, picking up your bag and walked to the door. You had already kissed Miles goodnight. Rio followed behind you. You opened the door.

“Thank you.”

You turned around, humming in confusion.

“Thank you,” she repeated, “for what you do for him.”

You smiled.

“Always.

It’s what he deserved.

#earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles morales x you #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales #atsv #across the spider verse #spiderman across the spiderverse #spiderman #miles morales #miles morales x reader

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ghostykapi · 5 months

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i love you (ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?)

minatozaki sana & idol!fem!reader // ehe!

it was not just your time, is what you gaslight yourself with

you were just not chosen, is what everyone else says and thinks

and still, your phone rings at 4 am

“hello?” you should be asleep, ignoring the pain eating you alive and the cold space beside you

“y/n” it’s slurred, she’s drunk again and the music blasting in the back gives you a picture of where she’s been “i miss you”

“sana” you whisper, head already spinning and it makes you want to smash the phone against the wall “you’re drunk”

“i know” is what she answers, barely being able to stand against the wall of a random restroom in a random bar. random strangers passing by like the random thoughts of you that passes through her head “and i miss you”

“i know” you say the same words back, and you wish you didn’t “this is the 10th night you called this month”

“oh” she’s shuffling to get better reception and you’re moving out of bed, trying to get this headache out of your head “don’t you miss me too?”

“why do you only call when you’re drunk?” is what you reply, diverting away the topic you rather discuss sober “sana this isn’t healthy”

“it’s not” she knows, she knows that you rather hear her call in when she’s sober but “doesn’t this give you a better reason to pretend it was a mistake?”

“it does” a mistake, a mistake to slip up, a mistake to let her go this easily, a mistake for her to lose you this fast “but it hurts”

“i know” she’s managed to finally stumble out of that bar, into jihyo’s car and away from the loud noise. just never away from what hurts

jihyo is one of the first ones who knew about the news, and will always be the one of the first ones to protect you both

the guilt eats her soul away when she realizes how bad she has failed to protect you both from what was preventable

“will you call again?” you’re now in your kitchen, staring at the last ‘i love you - sha’ you will probably ever see again written in sticky note on the fridge “sober this time?”

“will you say i miss you if you do?” it’s the alcohol system that’s giving her the strength to talk, but she wonders how stronger she can be if she didn’t let the world eat you both alive

“you already know what i would say” you can feel each tear fall down your face, each thought of what you want to say “i’m sorry”

you can feel her softly cry into the phone, each sob twisting your heart even more

“i miss you” she repeats again, and you let this one break you even down further “so so much”

“i know” you say it again, and again you let your eyes wander to the photos still on your wall. the photos that will forever plague you until you find the strength to tear it all down

you will never find that strength. you will never find the strength to tear her away for good

“i love you” it slips out of her, like how she had to slip out of your bed that morning, how you slipped past her grasp, how the world felt like slipping in a poison in you both

lips sealed and eyes blurred, you hurriedly drop the call, drop the phone, drop down to your knees and feel the weight of everything finally drop down dead on you

and sana? she screams the moment she’s out of the car, in front of her apartment complex, in front of what she has to call her new home that is cold, alone and frightening

the world doesn’t stop spinning, but it watches as it breaks two people into nothing

#minatozaki sana #minatozaki sana scenarios #minatozaki sana imagine #minatozaki sana imagines #twice angst #twice scenarios #twice x reader #twice imagine #twice imagines

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cielie-voss · 1 year

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Don't you dare think I have a crush on you.

~ Eddie Munson x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: Who would've thought, that a supposedly broken fridge would bring Eddie and his neighbor, aka former classmate Y/N closer together. (This takes place a few years after season 4, everyone's okay and doing well. Eddie and reader are like in their mid 20's)

Triggerwarning: tipsy reader, mention of alcohol and abusive partner, my awful writing. Let me know if I missed something. Likes, reblogs and comments are always welcome! If you'd like to request something, just send an ask or dm me.

Word count: 4.6k

It's late at night when he finally arrives home after a long and tiring shift. As every night, he can see the flickering of her television through her open window. She's probably watching some documentaries again to help her fall asleep, like most nights.

A gentle smile creeps unnoticed onto his lips at the thought of this grown woman who still needs some light and voices around her at night to fall asleep, like a frightened little child during a thunderstorm. She's mostly like a scared little kid, to be honest.

He pulls out his keychain and tries to open the door, but since the light's broken since... he doesn't even know if it ever worked, it's really hard to find the keyhole, although he should be able to find it blindfolded.

The stairs creak under his feet as he carefully walks up to his apartment because he doesn't want to wake anyone in this poorly soundproofed house. As he enters his apartment, he hears the sounds of the documentary next door. Something about sharks, he realizes after a short while. Interested in what the voice is saying, he tries to keep quiet while changing from his work clothes to sweatpants and a faded Metallica shirt.

With a sigh and a bowl of cereal in his hands, he flops down on his battered couch to follow the explanation of a shark's hunting behavior. Before the spoon can touch his lips, however, the phone unexpectedly rings.

An annoyed "What the hell?" slips from his lips as he gets up again, wondering who is calling him in the middle of the night, and rushes to the phone, afraid the ringing will wake his neighbors.

"Yeah?" He answers the phone and brushes his hair back.

"Eddiiiie!" Her squeaky voice is so loud and shrill that he has to hold the receiver away from his ear to prevent tinnitus.

"Eddie, you home?" she asks, not giving him time to realize who's on the other end. Eddie furrows his brows and, a bit confused, replies, "I um... yeah, I really hope so. At least physically. I mean you dialed my home number and I answered, so I -" but before he can explain further why he's, in fact, home, she cuts him off.

"Eddie, I can't open my fridge." A small single hiccup interrupts her. "I need your help please." Only now can he hear the slight slur in her voice, but he's too confused about what she just said.

"You... what? Why can't you open your fridge?"

"I don't know. I'm just... maybe, you know, it's broken or blocked by something. I need ketchup and eggs and I'm so hungry. And I want cheese,” she cries out like a little kid desperate for candy at the grocery store, but her parents said no.

"Please, Eddie, I'm begging you. Can you come over and fix it? I'm starving!"

He rubs the bridge of his nose and sighs.

"Yeah, ok. Give me a second."

"Thank you sooo much!" She stretches the 'so' to an unbearable level before telling him, "Door's open." And with that she hangs up the phone.

After this long day he had hoped for a relaxing night. Just him, his cereal, and some bullshit to make fun of on TV. But now he is interrupted by her. Not that he wouldn't like this disturbance of his well-deserved rest, not as long as it's her. He knows her from high school, they graduated the same year. All those years of high school, he was the one that everyone bullied or just ignored. Except for her. She was always nice to him, although they hardly exchanged a word. After finding out who had moved in next door, he was kind of relieved to see her again and get to know her a little better through little chats in the hallway and later some movie nights and Sunday hangover brunch.

Eddie puts his bowl back on the counter and grabs his small tool kit before leaving his apartment.

There is a sign on the door across the hall that says "Enter at your own risk". But he had entered several times now, and mostly he was fine afterwards. Sometimes her fiancé would come home drunk at night and kick him out screaming because he thought she had cheated on him. But she was the most loyal soul Eddie has ever met. Even after the first time she had to cover up a nasty black eye, she was so soft and sweet, told anyone who asked her that she had fallen or crashed with her door or a closet. She never admitted that he hit her. On the other hand, the walls between Eddies and Y/N's apartment are so thin that he can hear every step, every word, and every cry. So he knows everything that goes on behind closed doors.

He puts his hand on the doorknob and carefully pushes the door open.

"Y/n?" he asks, peering through the crack. The narrator's voice can still be heard from the living room, reporting on the life of the sharks, and the flickering of the television illuminates the small hallway in which he now stands.

"Here." He follows her voice into the small kitchen to his left. Their apartments are built the same way, just mirrored. But hers looks so different. Welcoming, warm, cozy, like a real home with personality, something that is a safe place. In contrast to his apartment, which is barely more than a simple place to sleep with a somewhat crappy kitchen.

He finds her on the kitchen floor in front of her fridge, wrapped in a home-knit blanket, one hand on the fridge door, the other holding a glass of wine. There's a pot next to him on the stove, the water boiling over and sizzling as small drops smash onto the hot stovetop.

"Jesus Christ!" he hisses. He quickly picks up the pot and sets it aside, turning the heat down before turning to her.

"I'm so hungry, but I can't open the fridge" she cries as she looks up at him. To prove her efforts, she pulls on the door, but nothing happens.

Eddie takes a step forward, kneels down next to her and inspects the fridge. Y/N moves aside so he can see better and nearly spills her wine. A soft "shit" escapes her as she catches the glass in time.

Eddie doesn't have to be a mechanic to spot the problem. He sits cross-legged and looks at her with a worried expression.

"Y/N," he begins, taking a deep breath.

"Yeah?" She takes her eyes off her glass and now looks at Eddie with those incredibly soft and warm eyes.

He carefully takes her glass away and clears his throat. "Y/N how many drinks did you have tonight?"

She tilts her head and frowns. "I don't know, two or three. Why?" Another little hiccup makes her jump up a bit. The boy in front of her puts his hand on the fridge door, now on the other side where she tried to yank it before, and opens it. Her eyes light up, only to be covered by her hands in embarrassment a split second later.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry Eddie."

"It's okay, it can happen to any of us," he laughs, patting her shoulder to emphasize that she doesn't have to be ashamed. Everyone is a bit dumber when drunk. When someone knows how dumb people are when drunk, it's him and fully out of first hand.

"But you shouldn't try to cook when you're drunk.", he adds kind of worried.

Outraged, she defends herself and steals the glass from his hand. "I am not drunk!" A little pause. "Well, maybe a little tipsy," she adds quietly, barely above a whisper.

"What do you want to cook so late?" He grabs the desired ketchup and some eggs from the now open fridge and puts them next to the stove.

"And where is your fiancé by the way? Shouldn't he already be at your house? I mean, I don't want to seem like a creep, but every time I come home from work his car is always blocking my parking spot. But I didn't see it today. And honestly, I don't want to be kicked out again like I'm a burglar or something."

And that seems to be the point that kind of hurt her. As soon as his question was out loud, she froze, the grateful crooked smile fading.

"Yeah, no. I don't know." She drains the wine with a long gulp. "I do not know where he is." The glass hits the tile on the floor next to her with a loud bang, and Eddie is surprised it didn't shatter. There's a hint of pain and anger in her voice, but he's too shy to ask what's going on.

She wipes her face with her hand as if to wipe away the thought of her fiancé and stands up.

"Can you pass me that bowl from over there?" With a short nod in the direction of the bowl, she indicates where the desired bowl is.

She thanks him and cracks open some eggs on the edge of the bowl with one hand. “You don't have to stay any longer, the fridge is open now. Thanks again." It's a mixture of shame and fear that fills her and keeps her from looking at him, but all she can hear is a disdainful "Pffft". Eddie crosses his arms over his chest and shakes his head.

“I certainly won't let you cook unattended while drunk. You almost” he catches a glimpse of the pot he ripped off the stove and looks at her in disbelief. “You almost burned pasta? Do you really think I'll let you keep cooking and risk burning the whole building down?" Actually, it's only meant as a rhetorical question, but to his amazement, she nods.

"I won't burn anything, trust me." She replies slightly snippy while trying to grate the cheese into the eggs with shaky hands and a foggy vision.

"Come on, give it to me, I'll do it. It hurts just to look at it." Firmly determined, he snatches the cheese and the grater from her and now grates the cheese into the mixing bowl himself until she says stop. He hadn't expected that she would let him help her and accept his offer without any arguments. Finally, she adds a dash of milk and whisks everything together.

"I'll get something to drink, can you drain the pasta and heat a pan?" Without waiting for his answer, she disappears slightly tottering from the kitchen with her glass, leaving Eddie behind.

"A pan..." he murmurs to himself as he rummages through the cupboards until he opens the last door and a heap of pots and pans nearly falls out in front of him. He reacts quickly, trying to stop the shaky stack with one hand while pulling out a pan with the other. After making sure the noodles are cooked, he drains them and moments later, Y/N re-enters the kitchen, her glass filled with red wine again.

"Nope." His fingers close around the thin stem of the glass and before she can protest, he puts it on a higher cupboard where she can't reach and looks at her. "I don't think you should drink any more. Really, trust me." She looks at him sullenly and presses her lips into a thin line.

"Spoilsport" she growls as she puts oil in the pan.

"Spoilsport? Yeah, say that again tomorrow when you only have a slight hangover." With a wink, he puts the noodles in the hot pan.

As punishment for this comment, she gently pushes him away from the stove and goes back to cooking. Eddie takes the opportunity to dump the wine and fill the glass with water.

"Here, drink some water." He puts the glass down next to her and watches her as she frys the noodles with the egg and cheese mixture.

"You see, nothing burned." She defiantly holds the plate with the food under his nose. "I wouldn't have needed your help."

But he only replies with a laugh: "Oh, and what was that about the fridge? YOU called ME because you desperately needed help.”

"You called me because you desperately needed help." she mimics him and grimaces, whereupon both of them burst out laughing after a moment.

"Do you think you have everything you need now or should I stay before you call me in 10 minutes anyway because you need help?" No matter what her answer is, he will still try to stay with her. Not because he's pushy. Rather, because he's a little worried. This whole situation and the way she reacted to his question about her fiancé makes him suspect that something is wrong. And he couldn't deal with himself if something happened after he left her alone.

"Now that you're here," she begins, mouth full with noddles, "you can stay here if you want. Then we both won't be so lonely." Now it's her who gives him a meaningful wink.

"Lonely," he repeats, raising his hands for imaginary quotation marks. "I am not lonely."

"Pfft, of course," she agrees, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

With a cheeky expression that cues him to follow her, she squeezes past him and goes into the living room.

The documentary about sharks is already over and has since been replaced by a news program. As Eddie enters the living room, he freezes for a moment. The large dining table in front of him is set for a big dinner. With a bouquet of flowers, a candlestick whose candles have already burned down, and a meal that has been prepared with great effort. Steaks, bacon-wrapped beans, hash browns, gravy. The plates and cutlery are prepared like in one of those posh restaurants, beautiful wine glasses are ready, two champagne glasses are filled. But the champagne stopped sparkling long ago, the food is cold and the wine bottle is empty.

With furrowed eyebrows, he turns to Y/N, who has flopped down on the sofa and is now seasoning the noodles with ketchup. He's not entirely sure whether to address the table setting and good food, or ignore it the way she does. Eventually, however, he gives in to his curiosity.

"You know, you have a table full of delicious food, probably very expensive food by the looks of it, and you call me to help you open the fridge so you can make noodles with eggs?" he asks her in disbelief and points to the table with a very sweeping, expansive gesture.

"Oh shut up.", she whispers to him grimly. “You don't have to stay here. Fuck off and leave me alone too." At least now he is pretty sure that he has hit a sore spot. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together.

“Woah, woah, woah! Now, slow down, Megaera." With a short laugh, he tries to lighten the mood, in vain. Cautiously, as if he were approaching a starving big cat, he takes one step toward her and stretches out his hands in a reassuring gesture. "Did he stand you up?" His voice is softer than before, more caring. He sits next to her on the sofa and watches her hurriedly stuff the noodles into her mouth, presumably to keep her mouth busy so it doesn't tell him what's going on. But it's too late for that.

"I called his workplace. We wanted to eat together, I cooked for us." Although she fights it, the words just flow out of her mouth. “And I was already done waiting for him. After an hour he still wasn't there, so I picked up the phone and called. Maybe he had to work overtime at short notice and couldn't call me, you know?" He nods attentively and gestures for her to continue.

“So I asked if he was still there or if he was already on his way home. And his colleague” Unintentionally she laughs hysterically. "His colleague tried to tell me that his fiancée picked him up three hours ago." Still uncomprehending, she shakes her head.

“What do you mean, his fiancee? I thought you were … "

"Yeah, so do I." She looks at him with a grim smile and has to fight back the tears that sting her eyes and blur the view.

He notices how painful it is for her and can't even imagine what it must be like for her. Without further ado, he stretches out his arms and pulls her into a tight embrace.

"Come here." He whispers in her ear and gently rubs her upper arm. "You deserve better than him."

Soon his t-shirt is soaked with her tears as he gently hugs her crouched body. They could have sat there for hours, days, weeks, he wouldn't care as long as he could hold and comfort her.

"I never thought he'd be capable of something like that..." she sobs once the tears dried up. "I mean, yeah, we've had our problems and arguments. But doesn't every couple have them? Is that … Isn't that perfectly normal in a relationship?" She looks at him with red, swollen eyes, "You can talk about anything, right? There's nothing that can't be explained."

"So 'a few problems and arguments' is a bit of an understatement, don't you think?" Looking back, he found there were more than 'a few' problems and far too many arguments between the two.

"What do you mean?" she asks confused and pushes away from him to get a better look at him. Not sure what to say now, without sounding like a stalker or pervert, of course, he is silent for a moment. But it's better to tell her the truth, maybe then she'll understand that this relationship was a bad decision.

"The walls are very thin, you know?" he tries to explain carefully and waits for her reaction for a moment before he continues his statement.

"Do you really think nobody knew what he was like? Do you honestly think nobody knew where you got that black eye from? Or the bruises on your knees?" Eddie really needs to focus not to get too angry or loud. He would love to ask her if she was just too stupid or naive to see what a bad person he is.

"Just the fact of how he reacted when we watched a movie together. Has it never occurred to you that a partner shouldn't react like that? I think he was pretty close to throwing hands the last time he kicked me out. And why? Because you helped me sew a new patch onto my vest?" During its execution, she remains silent. It's true, when you're in love, you see everything through rose-tinted glasses. But Eddie is right, she now has to admit it painfully.

"I don't want to blame you, really. But you should start to see that he's the wrong guy for you." And he's right about that too. It tears her apart inside. Of course she deserves better, someone who appreciates her and is loyal, who loves and honors her. On the other hand, she loves him. At least that's what she thinks. Or does she just love the idea of him as he used to be?

"He really could have picked a better day for it than my birthday." Shit. Is it her birthday? Stunned, he shakes his head. A simple "asshole" is all he can think of.

Tears sting in her eyes again and her throat seems to constrict. Eddie grabs a tissue and tries to wipe away her new tears.

"Shhht, it's going to be okay," he whispers while pulling her into another hug. At the moment he doesn't know how everything is supposed to be okay again, but he's pretty sure that he can at least help her at this moment.

After a while her tears dried up. Both of them are now lying on the couch, she has buried her fingers in his t-shirt, he has wrapped his arms tightly around her. He desperately hopes that she can't hear how fast his heart is beating. Not only because of the anger that had boiled up in him towards her fiancé, but also because his body probably likes it more than it should to be so close to her. Before that, he never realized how much he actually liked her. Why is he only now noticing it? Probably, he thought, because she had really opened up to him now and he really got to know her the way she really is. Suddenly she is not just the neighbor with whom you have a quick chat in the hallway or watch a film, the neighbor who watches documentaries to fall asleep when he comes home at night or who puts a pasta casserole in front of the door for him to eat when he comes home from gigs with his band in the early hours of the morning and is certainly not able to cook.

Suddenly she is such a vulnerable person lying in his arms, who has revealed her pain to him and shares her grief. He doesn't know how long they've been lying there. The news program has since been replaced by a home shopping show, which is now running in the background.

Her eyes are closed and with each breath her chest presses against his for a split second. Never in his life could he have imagined holding her so close. And he never dared to even think about holding her in any way. With his free hand he grabs the blanket and pulls it over her so she doesn't have to freeze. The longer he lies snuggled together on the couch with her, feeling her breath against his skin, the smell of her shampoo in his nose, the more he begins to enjoy it. It feels so natural and by God he can't think of anything better than being able to spend every night like this. How can someone give up something like that so easily? How can someone give up and replace someone like HER so easily? This is completely incomprehensible to him. And then also on her birthday?

She seems to have fallen asleep in his arms by now. Her grip on his shirt went slack and the rest of her body seems to relax in his embrace as well. He can't explain it, and he certainly can't stop it, his body suddenly seems to have taken control. He carefully leans a little towards her until some of her wild hair tickles his nose. His lips gently touch her skin as he plants a kiss on her forehead. It just feels like he has to do this, he has no choice but to tell his body not to do it.

He whispers a soft "Happy Birthday." before he pulls her closer and rests his chin on the top of her head, still thinking she's asleep.

"Eddie?" Her sleepy voice startles him. Eyes wide, he freezes for a moment, heat rising in his cheeks as he feels caught.

"Yeah?" he replies uncertainly, maybe she's just thirsty or he's lying on her hair. Maybe she did not even notice the kiss.

"Can you do that again?" She noticed. She actually did notice. Unimaginable shame floods through him, but he tries to play it down as if nothing happened. Maybe he can make her think she imagined it while she was half asleep?

"Do what again?"

"That little peck, it felt good." It felt good? That little gesture born of a pure, thoughtless gut feeling? Yes, that's exactly what felt good.

She has long forgotten what it's like to feel loved and secure. What it's like to just be held in someone's arms. And she has long forgotten what it's like to be kissed properly. With love, adoration, full of affection. Even if it was just a quick kiss, thoughtlessly. It kindled old, lost feelings in her.

He hesitates for a moment. But the kiss felt so natural and right to him, he doesn't even realize how much he longs to press his lips against her smooth skin again.

Both of them might not want to admit it, but that little innocent touch gets them excited like teenagers before their first kiss. Trembling with tension and keeping his breath normal in high concentration, he now bends down to her again. When his lips brush her hairline again and she feels his warm breath on her skin, a storm of butterflies breaks out in her stomach.

And not only she is overwhelmed by this comfortably warm, safe and yet incredibly exciting feeling.

Her fingers dig into the soft fabric of his shirt again before, without thinking, she lifts her head and presses her lips against his.

It takes him a moment to realize what exactly is happening, but doesn't hesitate for a second when her lips touch his. With his right hand, he presses her body flush against his, his left hand travels up into her hair only to slide down her cheek and cup her face moments later.

Their lips slowly move to a silent rhythm that only the two of them seem to hear. The melody gets faster and faster and their lips adapt to the rhythm, the voices from the TV in the background are now completely silent for the two of them. They only hear their racing heartbeats and the breathing of each other. And despite his very assertive and greedy demeanor, he still seems to be asking with every move if she's okay with it. As he deepens the kiss and runs the tip of his tongue gently over her lip, his hand travels from her face to the back of her neck, his fingers digging into her hair. Both of their heartbeats are so strong, complementing the melody with each pounding like the thumping of a bass guitar. After a few moments, they break the kiss to catch their breath. He rests his forehead against hers and seems to be staring into her soul. Tightly embraced and trembling with excitement, they need a moment to return to reality, to the here and now. Gradually their breathing returns to normal and a wide, overjoyed smile is reflected on their lips.

"Don't you dare think I have a crush on you," she threatens with a crooked grin that she tries to suppress. Her heart is still beating so fast she thinks it's about to burst out of her chest. She can't even remember ever being so fulfilled and happy, let alone having such an incomparably beautiful kiss.

Eddie wears a mischievous grin, small dimples form on his cheeks. Has he always had dimples like that? she wonders. They are so adorable, his grin so mesmerizing.

"Too late," he tells her defiantly. "I think you're pretty much in love with me." She can barely cover her insecure and shy laughter with a roll of her eyes. But he's right, even if it's hard for her to admit it.

"But you're not the only one with a pretty big crush," he adds in a calmer, deeper voice. He puts his hand on her chin again, lifting her head up to place his lips on hers again.

"I don't think I've ever had such a horrible yet beautiful birthday," she whispers against the kiss, now cupping his scratchy face as well.

"And all because you couldn't open your fridge." He can't help but make that stupid comment. And as revenge she punches him gently on the upper arm.

"Asshole." She insults him, laughing.

"As long as you kiss me, you can call me whatever you want."

xxx

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Please like and reblog if you liked it. <3

#eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie munson #eddie x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson masterlist #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson ff #stranger things fanfic #stranger things

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heavenhealy · 9 months

Text

genre: smut, porn with a bit of plot, flatmate!matty x fem!reader, dom!matty x sub!reader

summary: after a bit too much wine at a game night, you worry matty learned things he never would have never wanted to know about his flatmate, but he assures you you aren’t as weird as you think.

word count: 5.3k

warnings: this is smut, please do not read this if you're under 18 or uncomfortable with sexual content!! specific warnings include: swearing, alcohol consumption, they're both a bit self conscious but only briefly, crying, (VERY MINOR) who hurt you troupe bc I'm a whore for it, reader is worried about being kinkshamed/implications she has been in the past, dom/sub dynamics, praise, degradation (consensual), unprotected sex (don't do this), choking, spitting, hair pulling, spanking, fingering (f receiving), oral (m receiving), aftercare, fluff, matty being a little softie after sex

a/n: I haven't written anything in a while so I apologize if this is rusty! I also do not proof read so there may be some mistakes, and as always please let me know if I missed a warning and I will add it on. Happy reading! :)

"Never have I ever...." Your friend trails off, swirling the contents of her wine glass absently in her hand. Her living room is packed but all the attention is on her as she speaks. A sudden blast of nostalgia from college collides into you: you sitting in your much smaller common room with her and your group of classmates, drunk off cheap beer as you swap horror stories about professors and dating. She had always been the most gripping and magnetic person you knew. Someone who could pull all of your darkest, deepest secrets out of the folds of your mind before you even realized.

Or maybe it was the expensive wine that she always had stocked now that you were adults.

"Oh! Never have I ever made someone choke me during sex." A few flickers of laughter go up around the room, and you watch as some couples proudly throw back gulps of their drinks. Your mind whirrs, suddenly self conscious at the idea of someone seeing you take a drink, but you do it anyway. There's so many people here, and so many of them are drunk that it's unlikely anyone would remember anyway. You take a hearty gulp and feel the pleasant buzz settle in your veins, whether from the alcohol or the quiet liberation of admitting one of your darkest desires like this.

Her question seems to have inspired a new theme of the game, as the next person in line slurs, "never have I ever been spit on and liked it." Less people offer up their admittance than on the last round, and your face flushes as you try to subtly bring your glass to your mouth. Your eyes dart around, drunkenness making you feel sleepy. The room was mostly occupied by your coworkers and friends of friends, all people that you could elect to never see again if you had to, and a wash of relief has you taking another sip of wine- this one just for enjoyment.

"Never have I ever let someone I'm hooking up with come inside me." Even you have to laugh at the absurdly sexual way the game began to go, but you jovially drain the last of your wine, throwing your head back lavishly as a round of jeers go up in the circle around the coffee table.

Your head is back upright, warm and swimming with intoxication as you giggle in spite of yourself. Remnants of wine stick on your lips and you lick them, trying to pry off the last of the sweet taste. Your body feels so heavy and so light at the same time: flying and sinking with intoxication and the inherent comfort that comes with it. Your eyes flutter open, mostly because you're afraid you really could fall asleep right on the couch if you keep them shut. As soon as the visual world comes back to you, you see him.

Matty, your generous flatmate who always accompanies you to these parties when he has the time, standing just behind the seated circle of people in the game who you now notice are beginning to disperse. The sight of him is sobering. How long had he been standing there? The rest of these people were inconsequential to the rest of your life, but Matty? You share a home with him, cook each other dinner, and swap each others' laundry, and pick up medicine when the other is sick.

Nerves curl in your stomach. If he had seen all of that, he definitely would think you're a freak, a sexual deviant. Maybe he would want to terminate his lease and you would be forced to find a new place. You suddenly feel dizzy as he approaches.

Handsome as ever, he pushes a hand through his already wild curls and plops onto the couch beside you. He hums thoughtfully, examining your face closely; the flush of your cheeks, the unhinged look you're sure is present in your eyes. As hard as you try, your intoxicated mind can't comprehend the emotions showing on his own face.

About all you can muster to think is "handsomehandsomehandsome" as he worries his bottom lip between his teeth before prying the empty wine glass from your hand.

"We've got to get going," he says to someone as you stand with him, slightly wobbly in your platformed sneakers. You wave at your friend and manage to support yourself long enough to make it out of her front door. The night air is thick and sticky with humidity but Matty keeps an arm around your shoulders as you go down the stairs, silently ensuring you don't wipe out and skin your knee again.

"Thanks," you finally speak once you're onto the familiar even sidewalk back to your flat. He just hums, dark eyes sparkling under the street lamps dotted along the path.

"You didn't drink?" You ask, suddenly realizing that he seemed remarkably steady tonight.

"'course I did," he wiggles his flask from his jean pocket and waves it in front of you, "I'm just not a lightweight." You sigh, throwing your arms up dramatically. He's already giggling before you even begin to defend yourself.

"I didn't get drunk off of the one glass, Matthew! I actually had three tonight. And I didn't even get sleepy till the last one."

"Sleepy? Is that the word for it?" His voice is clipped as you make the final turn to your street, the looming complex you call home only yards away. Your brow furrows at his tone.

"What are you implying?" You stop, arms crossed defensively over your chest. He deflates, visibly dropping at your change in demeanor as if it wasn't him who caused it.

"Seriously, Y/N? We're almost home." You don't budge and he relents. "Sorry, that was rude of me. I know you're sleepy, let's go. Please? Forget I said anything." You sigh, appreciating the candid look of relief on his face when you start to walk again, all the way until you're into the safety of your bed.

---

"Oh, fuck," you grimace upon waking up. You have no idea what time it is, but sunlight is streaming in through the crack in your curtains, and you can faintly hear the sounds of the tv down the hallway. You know that your hair is tangled, and it's a miracle that you even bothered to change out of your clothes before bed.

You grasp for your phone and sit up, cursing the throbbing headache that always comes with getting wine drunk. You start picking up pieces of the night in your memory like loose change: a selfie here, a bump into a guy from accounting there, a handful of pretzels tossed into your mouth by your friend, the game of never have I ever-oh.

Shit. You swallow hard, listening for the noises downstairs, and the confirming shuffle of Matty's footsteps makes you freeze. Shit, how much had he heard? You meant to ask about it last night but lacked the cognitive ability for such a thing.

Your stomach bottoms out as you think, practicing different ways to approach it in your head.

Hey, did you hear about all of my weird sex stuff last night?

Hey buddy, learned anything about me recently that changed your view of me as a person and now you want to move out?

Hi Matty, thanks for coming with me to the party and getting us home, did you see me admit to liking being spit on?

Each idea was worse than the last, and a shiver of fear runs up your neck. You had always expected to have to deal with some differences in this living agreement, and had before, but never about something like this. Okay, maybe you could just avoid him until you came up with a good way to ask? Or maybe it would never come up at all? Perhaps he really hadn't been in the room the whole time. And worse case scenario, you have time to think about it. You could crawl right back into bed and pretend to sleep all day and-

"Y/N? You're up, right?" Matty's voice sounds from right outside the door, strong and clear. You consider ignoring him but he nudges on the door and it swings open just a bit, revealing him clutching onto a bakery to go box. He smiles bright when he sees you upright and takes a step into your room.

"Brought you a cinnamon roll,” he smiles the small, earnest smile that you don’t even think he realizes he does, and your heart melts. Surely this is a sign off goodwill.

You thank him and take the box, immediately flipping the lip open and staring down at the pastry. Your stomach rumbles at the scent so you dig in, flakes of dough falling off and back into the box as you eat. Matty stays silently in your doorway until you vaguely gesture at your bed, inviting him to sit as you chew.

He perched himself at the foot of your bed: hair messy under the hood of his favorite old sweatshirt and his hands tucked endearingly under his thighs, as if he’s waiting for something.

You finish your bite and raise an eyebrow at him, hoping that he voices whatever he wants or needs from you. Not that you didn’t love just spending time together or the random act of kindness, but faint alarm bells were still ringing at the possibility of what he learned last night. Neither of you were prudes: you’d had your fair amount of conversations about hook ups throughout your years as friends, but it still felt like a delicate line to cross.

“‘S good?” He asks, voice stunted as if he had to swallow down his nerves before he spoke. “Are you feeling okay? Not too hungover?” His eyebrows crinkle cutely as he asks, eyes roaming your face as if to make sure you’re telling the truth.

You nod your assurance. “Fine, I was mostly just hungry but you fixed that.” He echoes the grin you produce and your heart flutters. He looks so painfully domestic like this, in his comfy clothes and making sure you feel okay. Butterflies swarm in your stomach as you recall the care he took -always takes- to get you home safely.

“Good. You were...pretty blasted." You cringe, placing your head in your hands. The heat of your cheeks is strong and burning into the palms of your hands. Fear strikes down your spine, a fuzzy feeling of panic filling your mind. The question dances on the tip of your tongue.

"Hey." His fingers wrap around your wrist, tugging gently at it until you relent. The warmth of his touch lulls you a bit, but you can still feel the tears rimming your eyes. He coos, the sound a soothing balm on your heart.

"What's got you so upset? You're more than allowed to get drunk from time to time, love. I'm no saint myself." The pad of his thumb swipes gently over the vein in your arm.

"I-" one hot tear escapes you, rolling down the side of your nose. "How much did you see?" Your voice barely holds: wobbly and unsure yet you somehow find the courage to look at him: staring deep into his eyes. He looks back just as unflinchingly, studying your eyes as if he was trying to memorize their exact curvature.

His mouth opens, then closes into a frown, and a dark wave of anxiety creeps through your chest. He knows. He saw it all, and you know Matty well enough to know that he only hesitates with you when he's trying to find the right words to soften the blow. Like the time you had made horrendous tasting pasta and he pushed it around the plate until you finally asked for his honesty. He releases his hold on your wrist as you tug it away harshly, scooting further up your bed until you hit the headboard with your back.

"Sorry, I'm sorry about- if you think I'm weird and you want to leave or not live here anymore, or you don't want me to ever talk to you again-" your voice wavers and a rush of tears spill forth despite how hard you will them to stop. The idea of him never speaking to you again you makes you choke on a sob, but you can't dull the voices in your mind.

"Now why the fuck would you think that?" His voice snaps you out of your blubbering. His pretty features are marred into a scowl so deep that you gasp.

"Tell me, Y/N, why would you think that? I would never, ever-" his features shift, eyes softening. "Who made you think that way about yourself?" You try to ignore the undercurrent of anger in the question but it oddly sets you alight to hear how much he cares about this. That maybe even if he doesn't agree with your desires, he's not going to alienate you because of them.

Your tears have dried onto your cheeks, and you can feel the uneven breaths of anxiety begin to wash away as he shuffles closer until your knees touch. It still feels as if your brain is full of cotton, unable to process or produce anything meaningful to the conversation.

"I don't mind if you don't tell me who made you feel that way, but I'll be damned if I let you go on feeling' weird about it. Or alone about it. Cause you're not." You nod along listlessly as you often do when he rambles on, and with the mix of emotions rushing through you it takes you a moment to understand him. Matty traces a lazy pattern over your knee cap, eyes glued to your face as you catch up.

"Oh," it stumbles out of you before you can check yourself. "So you, like," your brain short circuits as he flashes you a dazzling smile.

"I do."

"You don't think I'm gross?" A spark of hope settles in your stomach, whether from the knowledge, or Matty's proximity, or both you aren't sure.

He licks his lips, runs his tongue over his teeth in a way that makes your heart lurch. His curls shimmy around his face as he shakes his head no, hand stilling on your knee.

"Actually quite the opposite." His lopsided grin makes you gasp, and his hand slides up the length of your leg until it's resting on the top of your thigh. He sits up onto his knees, imposing over you even on with his pajamas still on. "More surprised..." his eyes search your face, finding only awe, "happy, thrilled, elated...who would have thought my sweet little angel would be so..." he clicks his tongue, mocking as he pretends to think. Your heart rate quickens as arousal shoots through you. "Fucking dirty." He tilts his head as if speaking to a child, eyes sparkling with what you can only assume is lust.

Your mouth feels dry as your entire face and neck flush red.

"I-I, well, uhm." You gulp and he places a hand delicately on your face. You lean into the touch, no longer finding it in you to be ashamed in front of him.

"You what? Are a dirty little thing who gets off on being choked and spit on?" You nod fervently and he chuckles, winding his fingers into the hair at the base of your neck. "Gonna need some words from this pretty mouth or we aren't doing anything."

"Yes, yes! I am, Matty. C-can you please?" He tugs at your hair, sending your line of sight upwards until all you can see are his eyes and mop of curls.

"Please ruin you? Make you forget about whatever fucker shamed you for what gets you off?" All thoughts outside of Matty leave you as you whine your affirmation. The anticipation is enough to make you squirm against his hold, hot pin pricks of pleasure sparking as he pulls against your hair.

"No running now that I've got you." He smiles sinfully before pushing forward for a kiss, molding his lips against your own with ferocity that you had only imagined he would use. No matter how many times you had fantasized about kissing him you never would have expected it to feel this perfect.

He tastes like coffee and the faint staleness of his last cigarette; something so iconically Matty that it makes you want to cry. He devours you, thrusting his tongue into your mouth and holding steady on your hair to keep you exactly in place for him. Arousal roars inside of you, underwear already slicking at the show of dominance just the kiss has given you.

"Need you." You mumble it into the kiss, unable to push down your thoughts any longer. Matty relents, chest heaving just as much as your own.

"Need you," you try again, clearer this time, tugging at the strings of his hoodie. It's gone in an instant, his lean tattooed torso exposed for your viewing pleasure. Matty's hands are instantly fisting into the fabric of your old sleep shirt, stripping it as soon as you gasp out a yes. He eyeballs your tits and immediately groans, deep and guttural in a way you've never heard before. "Prettiest fuckin' girl. Look at you." The tenderness makes your heart swell as he tenderly cups your breasts in both hands, pinching at your nipples just enough to make you breathless. He places a line of kisses down your sternum and then follows the same path with a swipe of his tongue.

Shuddering, you latch onto his back and dig in with your nails, hoping to leave him with a little gift of his own. The movement presses him against you, his face buried in your stomach as he continues the sinful path of his tongue down to the elastic band of your shorts. He licks under it, being careful not to actually touch you anywhere you truly wanted him.

"Mmph, Matty, please-please please!" You moan and shiver, wriggling under his weight as he keeps you pinned down with one arm over your mid section.

He nips playfully at the skin of your stomach, "Impatient little slut, huh? Just got started on you and you're already lookin' for more." He abandons your skin completely, taking his warmth with you. A whine grumbles in your chest at the loss, but it dies in the air as you watch him shuck off his sweatpants and underwear in one go.

You can't tear your eyes away from the sight of his cock: something you'd imagined but never figured you would be lucky enough to see in person. Desire strikes through you as he settles against the bed, his lean thighs on display as he kneels on the bed.

"Can I suck your cock?" The question jumps out of you and Matty stills, seemingly shocked at your boldness. He cocks his head, biceps flexing when he wraps a hand around himself. Your mouth practically waters as he pumps himself slowly.

"Of course you can," he licks his lips as he settles into your crumpled bedsheets, spreading his legs to give you ample room to work. You spring into action, eager to repay all of the attention he's given you.

There's no time to waste once his cock is in your mouth. Your eyes water at the intrusion but you can't deny the way it makes your pussy flutter to feel so full of him. Matty gasps, lacing his fingers back through your sweaty hair and leading you further down, pressing your face into the skin of his pelvis.

A gag ripples through you and Matty groans, loosening his grip just enough that it's clear you could escape if you wished. But you don't, and you won't, as you work through the reflex with hot tears streaking down your face. Matty's breathy gasps only encourage you as you wiggle your tongue along the bottom of his cock as you suck: saliva gathering at the corners of your mouth and dripping into a sticky mess at the base of him.

"So fuckin' messy and hot, spitting all over me cause you're so desperate, is that it? Can't do anything but be stupid and drool all over my cock?" You moan at his words, bobbing your head vigorously both to show you agree with him and encourage him to say more, the nasty words flipping all the right switches in your brain.

His hips stutter up into your mouth and he huffs, pulling you off of him in painfully slow increments. You whine at the loss: throat raw and scratchy as you watch his cock shine under the light.

"Lay down," his voice is clipped and you're silently thrilled to note the shake as evidence that he was feeling just as fucked out as you.

You follow his instruction, flipping easily onto your back. He stills at the foot of your bed as you sprawl in front of him, legs parted in invitation. His chest heaves as he crowds overtop of you, heated skin against skin as he presses the length of his body onto your own. The fullness of his weight against you makes you feel fuzzy and you go lax under him, bucking your hips upwards in seek of friction over your clit.

Matty hums, his reddened lips forming into a mocking pout. "Prettiest baby ever but just so desperate," he places a kiss on your forehead and your heart flutters: eyes watering at the sweet gesture.

He catches your gaze, carefully inspecting the shine in your eyes.

"I'm okay," you voice before he can even ask, running your fingers over his jaw as you grin up at him. "Just happy." A little sly grin spreads on his lips and you can't help but return one, a giddy feeling of happiness spreading through your bones. It only makes you more ravenous for him and you whine, pushing your hips up against his own again as you attach yourself to his neck, biting a hickey into the skin just under his ear. A long moan falls from him as you work your mouth against him and your mind short circuits, in disbelief that you finally had him like this.

"Fucking quit with the hips before I explode," Matty growls, pulling away from the stimulation of your movement. You still immediately, the steel in his voice making you pliant. Apparently pleased with your behavior, Matty simply sits back, trailing his sinfully long fingers between your legs. You gasp at finally being touched, head pushing back into your pillows as Matty circles a finger around your hole, pushing in slowly as you widen your legs to allow him more access.

"Pretty little pussy, think you can handle another one?" You know he's teasing you, as he was already working another finger in alongside the first, stretching you open. The burn is deeply satisfying, liquid pleasure seeping through you as he works you open, thrumming his thumb against your clit.

"Matty, please?" You tug at the hand unoccupied with fingering you. His eyes squint in confusion at your request and you sigh, pulling his hand toward the base of your neck. His hand on your pussy stills as his mind finally catches up.

"Fuck, Y/N. You're fuckin' perfect, want me to choke you? Wanna have my hand around your neck while I fuck you stupid?." You nod dumbly, already feeling like you're on cloud nine. He moves the fastest you'd ever seen him, abandoning his work on your pussy for a threatening grip on one hip. You watch hungrily as he lines himself up with your pussy, eyes locked onto the image of his intrusion. The fullness of his cock inside of you made you keen, chest heaving as he pushes fully inside of you.

It had been a very long time since you'd been this full, and the fact that Matty was the one filling you made it even more addicting. The sheer size of his cock was enough to make you dizzy, and even more so once he finally began to move. A stream of obscenities spill out of you and Matty tsks, falling back into this dominant persona as he narrows his eyes at you, fingers dancing at the base of your neck. You swallow with harsh anticipation.

"Do I need to shut you up?" You nod eagerly, desperate to feel the strength of his hand closing around your neck. "What a dirty little girl, wantin' me to choke you when I'm already buried inside of you." His voice deepens with a groan while you plead him with your eyes, pussy throbbing around his cock at his words. His thrusts falter for just a moment as he finally relents, tightening his hold on your neck until you feel the perfect level of pressure that makes you feel perfectly floaty, nodding at him to continue his thrusts against you.

Emblazoned by the sight of his hand around your neck, Matty's hips snap into you with renewed vigor that has you rocking against the pillow, legs locked around his back. The slick sound of your pussy around him fills the room, mingling with the strangled moans that slip from both of you.

Matty pants above you, the punishing pace making your eyes roll to the back of your head. It's almost embarrassing how easily he works you up, and almost even more embarrassing how quick you are to hang your mouth open, mind blanked by the pleasure as you take everything he has to give you. He loosens his grip on your neck slightly and you whine petulantly.

"Relax, pretty. Not done with ya, hold on." Thankfully the movement of his hips doesn't even stutter as he moves his hand upwards, over the cleft of your chin before tracing the pads of his first two fingers over your bottom lip, pulling on the flesh until you open your mouth again. He smiles and lust clouds your senses as you watch his eyes crinkle.

"There's something else you want, isn't there? Something else that makes this pretty pussy all wet?" Your eyes widen, heart jumping into your throat as one of your most common wet dreams comes to life right in front of you. You try to swallow but his fingers in your mouth impede you, the tip of your tongue running over the digits.

"Wan' you to spit in my mouth," you make the sentence out with impressive clarity, especially as Matty's thrusts speed up at the confession, a deep, sustained moan rumbling out of his chest.

He slips his fingers from your mouth and immediately puts them between your bodies to thrum over your clit, slick with your own spit as they make contact. A shock runs through you, exciting every vein in your body with the whisper of your oncoming release. Despite his renewed vigor, Matty's eyes remain glued to your own as you hang your mouth open. From this angle you can see all of his pretty curls framing his face and every eyelash around his deep brown eyes. Before you even have a moment to anticipate it, a thick translucent glob of spit descends from his perfect lips and onto your waiting tongue. You swallow it eagerly as his cock twitches inside of your walls, and before you can even thank him, his hand unoccupied hand latches back onto your neck.

"I'm going to fuckin' come, shit. You're so hot." Matty's praises send you to another plane of existence as he holds you by the neck, deft fingers curling around your clit in time with his thrusts. You're sure that the sounds you're making are pathetic and embarrassing but pleasure courses through you so quickly that you can barely make out your warning that you were going to come.

Matty growls as you finally let yourself go, giving up to the monsoon of pleasure that wipes through your entire body. Your toes curl, muscles strained with the force of your orgasm as you hold him as close as possible with your legs. Matty curses, plowing into as he nears his own end. Even though you feel out of this world, you are acutely aware of everything about him; the way he pants and the rivulets of sweat that are beading down his chest, the beautiful moans that come from his bitten-red lips.

"Gonna come, can I come inside?" His desperation is making him whiny, and if you were less fucked out you would poke fun at the tone you know he would hate, but all you can think about is having his hot come fill you up.

"Yes, please! Need it Matty." A sliver of overstimulation starts to overwhelm your easy pleasure but you endure through it as you feel his cock twitch heavily inside of you before he leans into you, face buried into your shoulder as he comes. Although you mourn the loss of the face he makes, you get a beautiful sample of the moans that overtake him when he comes. The sound takes your breath away alongside the feeling of him filling you to the brim, so forcefully that you feel yourself shudder with another small orgasm as he finishes with a few more tiny thrusts of his hips. You gasp for air, immediately grappling for him to wrap your arms fully around his back.

He falls into you easily, his own chest heaving as his cock softens inside of you. You hear rather than feel him kissing over the plane of your shoulder as you float in and out of focus, exhausted and most likely dehydrated from this and the night before. Unintelligible speech rumbles against your skin, and Matty must realize that your lack of response means you aren't quite there, as he leans up onto his elbows.

You smile when you see him, face flushed and eyes heavy with fatigue.

"Handsome," you finally speak the word you held back last night and he laughs heartily as he cups your jaw as if examining you to look for damages before placing a kiss onto your lips; short and sweet and grounding.

"Glad you finally caught up, love. It was getting exhausting being the only one in the house who thought so."

You roll your eyes, finally coming back to yourself and reality.

"Last time I'll ever compliment you." Giggles continue to wrack his body as he slowly pulls out of you. The gush of your mixed arousal coming out of you makes you whine, sure that you had just ruined your sheets.

Matty looks guilty as you finally make eye contact again and you just wave him off, sitting up slowly as he flops onto the bed beside you. He looks up at you, reverently, and you blush.

"Stop that, please. Stop." Your voice is still scratchy but you can't fight the smile on your face, the undeniable hope that this wasn't just a one time freak accident.

"Stop looking at how pretty you are? Especially with that just got choked and fucked within an inch of my life glow? Nah." He casually pushes his hair off of his forehead and your body betrays your rolling eyes with a new stir of arousal.

"Seriously, though. You're hot. And pretty, and gorgeous and so fucking dirty in all the best ways."

"Stop before I barf, Matthew." You try to be petulant but can't resist his cute grabby hands as he settles you down next to him, petting gently at your temple.

"But thanks," you finally squeak out, feeling tremendously tired and satisfied as you yawn. "For being cool and doing all that and, like, not running away from me after." You feel him stiffen slightly before he goes lax again.

"Love, if I'm running anywhere, it's over to my room for us to have a clean bed to do this again."

#Matty Healy #Matty Healy x reader #Matty Healy smut #matty healy oneshot #matty healy fanfic #the 1975 #matty x reader #the 1975 x reader #flatmate!matty

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imagine-a-life-like-this · 1 year

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Kiss It Better (J.WY)

Word Count : 1910

Warnings : drinking, partying, swearing, slight angst (but mostly fluff)

Synopsis : A drunk confession leads to tears and there's only one way to fix it; kiss it better.

Author's Note : This was a really cute request, and I had a lot of different ideas for it, but this is the one I landed on. I hope you enjoy it 💕

Music spilled into the deserted streets, getting louder the closer she got to the house. There were drunk students sprawled out on the lawn doing varying activities. Some were making out, others were just talking. But she took no mind to it, by passing every single person, and entering the house.

An overwhelming scent of booze and sweat wafted up her nose, and she wondered why she even came in the first place. “Y/n!” His voice was clearly heard over the music, unsurprising to her due to the fact that Wooyoung is known to be very loud. He practically ran over to her, pushing passed people trying to talk to him, and pulled her into his arms.

This is the reason she came. Jung Wooyoung, her best friend for as long as she can remember. He had told her about the party weeks ago and she had originally agreed to make an appearance, but with multiple deadlines and other stresses, she had told him she would have to skip out just once.

But that wasn’t good enough for Wooyoung who took to texting her every 5 minutes telling her to come. Every time his frat threw a party, she was right by his side. Or with one of the other frat members, which usually ended up being Hongjoong. But she would always end up wrapped up in Wooyoung’s arms by the end of the night, without fail.

“I’ve shown my face, can I go home now?” She asked, pushing away from the hug, trying her best not to breathe through her nose as the scent of alcohol exuded off Wooyoung.

“You just got here.” He pouted. “I haven’t seen you in two weeks and now you’re here and you want to leave.” She shook her head at her very obviously drunk best friend. Wasn’t Hongjoong supposed to make sure he didn’t drink too much?

Glancing around the room, she could see Hongjoong chatting it up with his long time crush, answering her unasked question of how Wooyoung could have gotten so drunk. “Well, seeing how drunk you are, I don’t think I should leave you alone. Let’s get you to bed, Woo.” She snaked her arm around his waist to lead him towards his room.

“Will you stay with me tonight?” He slurred, tripping over the first stair. It happened every single time he got drunk and she wonders sometimes if he does it on purpose as a way to pull her closer.

Physical touch has always been a love language of Wooyoung’s, and when they first met, and for the first few years of their friendship, she had no problems with how touchy he got with her. She had quite enjoyed all the movie nights curled into his side, wrapped up under the same blanket despite there being multiple other ones that one could use. Or the mornings she would wake up with him clinging to her even though she clearly remembered falling asleep alone the previous night.

But over time, she noticed some changes. The way her skin would burn with every lingering touch. How her heart would speed up every time his face was close to hers. She would glance at his lips while he spoke and wonder how they would feel against her own.

She hated the way jealousy would bubble up when a girl would hit on him in front of her. Or how her heart would break every time he laughed when someone asked if she was his girlfriend. These things never used to bother her. He never used to effect her like this. She used to see him as just a friend, but that wasn’t true anymore.

In true rom-com fashion, she fell in love with her best friend. One day he was her idiotic best friend and the next he was the endearing guy that was always there for her. “Please stay with me.” He whispered after hearing no reply to his question.

“Okay.” Why did he have to be her only weakness?

The upstairs was only slightly quieter, the music still loud, but the people were scarce. Despite Wooyoung’s entire body weight leaning onto her, she got him to his room pretty easily, quite used to drunk Woo. “Wear my shirt. I like seeing you in my clothes.” He let go over her to lift his shirt over his head, handing it to her with a smile.

“Wooyoung, I’m not going to wear your sweat covered, booze smelling t-shirt to bed.” She protested, causing him to pout and whine at her, shoving the shirt into her hands. “You’re such a baby when you’re drunk.” She giggled to herself. “Can I at least wear a clean shirt?” His face lit up as he nodded, rushing over to his dresser, and throwing open the t-shirt drawer.

“This one!” He shoved a simple black, crew neck tee into her hands, pulling a similar one over his own head. “We can match!” Why is he so much cuter when he’s drunk? It’s not helping the growing fondness in her heart, or the ache she felt when she remembered that he was just her friend.

“Okay. But we also need shorts to wear.” Without a second thought, Wooyoung just pulled his pants down, proudly showing her his boxers.

�� “Boxers are like shorts.” He chuckled, quickly sliding into his bed. “You can sleep in your underwear too!” He looked at her with childlike wonder in his eyes, and though she really didn’t want to, she gave in, disappearing into his bathroom to change, and wash her face of any makeup.

When she came back, she had expected him to be asleep already, but he was still sitting exactly where she left him, same childlike wonder in his eyes. “Wooyoung, you need to sleep now.”

“I just wanted to see how pretty you looked in my shirt.” He pouted, making grabby hands at her, signalling that he wants cuddles. She placed her clothes on the chair in the corner of his room before crawling in beside him, Wooyoung immediately pulling her into his arms. “You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, Y/n.”

He was tracing shapes into her exposed skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. Her heart was racing as he wrote I love you over and over into her skin, peppering short kisses onto her shoulder each time he finished. Jung Wooyoung was not good for her health. “Wooyoung.” She said sternly, but he didn’t say anything, just continued writing on her skin. But when she went to speak again, she heard a sniffle, causing her to whip around in his arms to face him, quickly noticing the tears falling down his cheeks. “Hey, talk to me, What’s wrong?”

She cupped his face so she could wipe away the tears, but they just kept coming. Wooyoung was a clingy drunk, a childish drunk, a danger seeking drunk, but he was not an emotional drunk. He was the kind of drunk that would jump off the roof into a pool and then wrap you in a tight hug, getting your clothes all wet, laughing in your ear the whole time. But he was not the kind to talk about his feelings, let alone cry.

“I’m scared if I tell you, I’ll never see you again.” He could barely meet her eyes, and that hurt her more than anything. Never in their years of friendship had Wooyoung ever been so afraid to tell her something that he couldn’t even look into her eyes. “You abandoned me for 2 weeks and I have never felt so lonely. I don’t know what I’d do if you left permanently.”

“Wooyoung, no matter what you say to me, I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me for the rest of your life, okay?” Slowly he looked up, as if they were filming a cheesy rom-com and the two main leads were meeting for the first time.

“Even if I told you I’m in love with you?” All her movements halted. She stared into his eyes, looking for a sign that he was lying, that he was pulling her leg, pranking her, anything. But all that she could see was more tears welling up the longer she stayed silent. “I knew it.” He whispered, averting his gaze once more, pulling her hands off his face, and turning away completely.

This caused her to snap back to reality, allowing his words to fully process in her mind. He had just confessed, and she said nothing. How could she not say anything? “Woo, look at me.”

“Wooyoung is sleeping now.” He mumbled, but she could still hear the sob he choked back. She slid out of bed and walked to the side he was facing, gently grabbing his face in her hands so he couldn’t look away. She could feel his face burning under her touch, bringing a small smile to her face.

“Did you mean it?”

“Of course I did. I’ve been in love with you for so long. Everyone says I’ve been so obvious with my feelings that you obviously knew and just didn’t feel the same. And that’s okay, I can’t force you to love me, but I really don’t want you to leave. I can deal with you not loving me back, but not having you at all, that would be hell. So please-“

She cut him off with a kiss. Gently pressing her lips to his, telling him to shut up with a sweet gesture. His lips were a lot softer than she imagined. They tasted salty from the tears still streaming down his cheeks mixed with the booze he had earlier, but that didn’t stop her from getting addicted to the feeling of his lips on hers. “Who said I don’t love you?” She whispered once she pulled away. “Because they couldn’t be more wrong.”

“Holy shit, you just kissed me.” She laughed, slightly shaking her head at how cute he was being. “Oh my god, you just said you loved me.” His eyes went wide as he stared at her, and she just nodded. “Can I get another kiss?”

“In the morning, if you still remember everything that happened, you can have as many kisses as you want.”

“I’ll never forget this moment. Now come back to bed.” He pouted, wrapping his arms around her waist, and pulling her on top of him, before rolling onto his other side, successfully getting her into a spooning position. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Woo.”

The sun was shining through the window, but that’s not what woke her up. Wooyoung was peppering kisses all over her face, barely missing her lips each time. “Oh good, you’re awake!” He then pressed his lips to hers in a series of small pecks.

“Well this is certainly a nice way to wake up.” She giggled, slowly sitting up. “So I’m guessing you remember what happened last night?” He nodded, the biggest smile she’s ever seen plastered on his face.

“And if I remember correctly, you said I could have as many kisses as I want. And I want them all.” Before she could say anything else, he had tackled her onto the bed, pressing kisses all over her face once again, before placing a kiss on her lips. Multiple I love you’s were whispered in between kisses, making up for all the time they had lost hiding their feelings behind friendship.

#ateez imagine #ateez x reader #ateez au #ateez #jung wooyoung imagine #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung au #jung wooyoung fluff #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong #jeong yunho #kang yeosang #choi san #song mingi #jung wooyoung #choi jongho

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writtenonreceipts · 8 months

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Rowaelin Month Day One: Song Fic @rowaelinscourt

Back by no one’s demands but my own: a part two and conclusion to “Annie” the song fic I wrote for last year. This one does end happier, I pinky promise. Inspired by Mat Kearney’s song “New York to California.” If you’ve been around for a while, you know Mat is one of those artists that I adore and his music means so much to me. I also just really wanted to conclude “Annie” and NYtCA just hits different…anyways, I hope you enjoy? You technically don’t need to read Annie if you don’t want to.

Rowaelin Month 2023 Masterlist Main Masterlist Annie—Part One

Warnings: she’s a touch angsty, nothing worse than how I usually go. ~3k words

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

New York to California

Before

She doesn’t know if it’s late or early when sleep takes her. For weeks now she’s been trapped behind a gray haze. It falls over her mind and tries to convince her that nothing really matters anymore. It’s far too easy to fall victim to that mindset, and usually she does better at chasing the demons away. Usually it’s easier.

So as she drifts off, she’s just glad for a taste of some relief from the day. It’s been hard lately, too hard. And she doesn’t know how she’ll break free from it.

Maybe, for that reason alone, it’s better that she falls asleep. It can be the reprieve from her foster father and the ways the world has a way of crashing down around her.

The problem is, she forgets how easily the dreams find her. They invade this quiet space she’s tried to carve out for herself so easily that sometimes she doubts her sanity. Because the dreams are full of shadows and screams, pain and panic. She wants to escape them. More than anything if she could fade away into the gray haze of dawn and linger there—she would.

She’s in the middle of one of those terrors when a gentle hand glides down her cheek and she can hear his voice calling to her.

Fireheart. Fireheart.

When her eyes open it’s to find him staring down at her, green eyes flickering with the light of the TV, his hoodie drenched with rain. She can see the worry reflecting in his eyes as he brings his hand back to her cheek. His thumb runs in soothing circles along her skin.

“I had one of those dreams again,” she whispers. She doesn’t want to admit it, doesn’t want to cause him more pain. But it’s Rowan. And he’s always been a part of her. “I thought I lost you.”

“It’s alright,” he says, easing onto the couch beside her. “Everything’s alright, I’m here.”

Aelin knows she shouldn’t, but she snuggles into his side nonetheless. He smells like pine and rain and earth and it’s the most comforting thing she can imagine. So she leans into him and wraps her arms tight around him so he won’t disappear on her again.

She knows they shouldn’t do this. Knows he shouldn’t even be here. If Arobynn finds out Rowan showed up at the house Aelin knows there will be hell to pay. The only thing that gives her hope is that her foster father is gone on a work trip. He won’t be back until Thursday. But Aelin lives in a constant state of fear as her mind lingers on the “what-ifs” of it all.

“It’s alright, baby,” Rowan says. He presses his lips into her forehead and pulls the fleece blanket over them. “I’m right here with you.”

She lets his words wash over her and soothe her own worries. He’s never steered her wrong before, never left her unless he had to. And even than he lingers still. Because that Rowan, her Rowan, can temper any storm raging in her mind.

As he holds her close, she can make out the scent of cheap beer and cigarettes. She knows he was singing at the bar again tonight, trying to earn some cash for the two of them to finally breakaway from this damned town.

“Don’t leave,” she says, slurred with sleep and exhaustion. His warmth is all she needs to drift back off to sleep, missing what he whispers to her next.

…

After

The coffee shop is the same as it always is: loud and hot.

No matter when Aelin comes, there is always line out the door and every table is occupied by no one that actually has to be there. She has decided it is a ruse designed by society in general to make coffee shops more appealing. Supposedly they can offer you a sense of peace and comfort and delude you into thinking that you’re right where you belong—mixed up in a mess of people just as desperate for connection as you.

So yes, the coffee shop is always full. Single patrons take up tables for just themselves and their selfies and little cookies that they won’t actually eat. And straw liners are somehow strewn about the floor even though straws have been banned in the city for almost a year now. And somehow the heater is always going even in the middle of summer but no one ever comments because it is a coffee shop so therefore everything is perfect.

But it’s not. Everything is so far from perfect that Aelin has more than once found herself stumbling through life. She’s lost in a world that has passed her by all because her foster father beat her down. All because she stayed behind and let the one good thing in her life leave.

She doesn’t blame him, of course. She can’t. He was always too good for this place anyways. He always had a way about him that said he wouldn’t step back from a fight.

It’s what she loves most about him.

Because of course she still loves him.

Rowan Whitethorn was, and still is, the best thing to ever happen to her. From the time they were kinds to the inevitable night that finally pulled them apart—Rowan had been all she ever needed.

He left the city the second he could after his music managed to get him free. He’d tried to take her with him, tried to say that he’d take care of her and that everything would be alright with just the two of them.

But Aelin knew then that it wasn’t that simple. It never would be.

Except now, Arobynn is dead. Dead and no longer tormenting her daily. Instead, he’s just another terror in her dreams.

They’ve gotten better though, the nightmares. They don’t come every night and even when they do, it’s easier to chase them away now. Because she’s free.

And sometimes, if she’s lucky, Rowan will be there. He’s always had a way of climbing into her dreams and staying right where he’s needed. Even though he’s not physically here he’s still the greatest source of comfort to her.

She tries to shake the thoughts of him away. They won’t do her any good. No matter how badly she wishes they could, that he was there with her. Instead, any and all thoughts of him haunt her and remind her of what could have been.

So she opens her laptop, navigating to the article she’s supposed to be editing.

Somewhere along the way, she managed to pave a small road for herself. She was even the lead editor on this new addition of Kingsflame, an up and coming magazine. It took her a while to find her way here, to find something she liked and was just for her. But she was good at writing, she was good at picking up on details, she was good and weaving a story together.

Just not her own.

Aelin works for a little, trying to give all her attention to the document. The intern that wrote it is promising and Aelin wants to make sure to nourish a love of writing for her. Aelin knows first hand what just a taste of approval can do for someone and she wants the girl to grow in her love of words. Writing is what saved Aelin herself after all.

Sitting back in her seat, Aelin sighs and sips at her coffee. It’s something dark and bitter—not at all what she usually likes. She prefers sweet and sugar and all the extra bits but the poor barista behind the counter looked one pumpkin spiced latte away from quitting so Aelin got a simple black coffee. She added extra packets of sugar herself.

It’s disgusting.

But she has to admit the caffeine is definitely going straight to her brain.

She takes another long sip when it happens. The song on the radio changes and she hears a voice that has only been a part of her dreams. It’s low with the barest hint of his accent. He’s accompanied by a piano which is different—he’s always preferred the guitar, saying that he’ll leave the piano to her.

Only…she never got the chance to play with him.

And now he’s singing a ballad of love and hope over the speakers of her coffee shop. And no one notices. And no one realizes what it means to hear him now.

He’d always promised he’d find his way back to her. She just thought it was going to be different.

…

Before

There’s a storm billowing through the trees and lashing the windows with rain. The gray sky is endless as it grows darker with each passing second. This isn’t any regular storm. It’s been raging on for over an hour now, bringing in a few rounds of thunder and lightning with it.

Aelin finds she doesn’t mind it. Not at all.

Because beside her on the couch is Rowan. He has an arm wrapped around her as he drifts in and out of sleep. It’s been a long day of sneaking about, hiding, and worrying. Now, they just have an hour. One hour of just the two of them before she has to go back home.

“I miss you,” Rowan says, quiet.

Aelin isn’t sure she’s heard him properly. Or maybe he’s talking in his sleep, he does that sometimes. She runs her fingers through his hair, brushing the silvery locks back from his forehead.

“What did you say?”

Rowan twists, his chin resting on her stomach. Green eyes stare up at her, dark with longing.

“I miss you,” he repeats, just as quiet.

“I’m right here,” she says. She doesn’t stop running her fingers through his hair, can’t stop more like it. It’s grown longer recently and she loves it.

He doesn’t say anything. All he does is watch her. A flash of lightning snaps from outside illuminates his face, turning the shadows beneath his eyes lighter for once. They’re just kids but it feels like they’ve fought wars already.

Tightening his hold on her, Rowan lets out a small sigh.

“I know,” he says, “but it never feels close enough, does it?”

“You’re just talking,” she says with a low chuckle. Sometimes, words take on more meaning. Sometimes, words mean more than they usually do. And sometimes words are promises that bind you to more than a moment.

He grunts. “No I’m not.”

Her heart thuds at his words, at the feel of him as he sits up slowly, still pressed close to her; only now they’re chest to chest. He’s so much bigger than Aelin that his frame practically engulfs her. His broad chest and thick arms are enough to keep her from fidgeting too much though. Because where else would she rather be?

“No matter what happen, I’ll be here, you know?” he says. It’s the closest they’ve gotten to talking about the Arobynn situation and how Aelin can’t leave. No matter what hopes and dreams she might have and share with Rowan.

She’s trapped.

“Rowan,” Aelin begins, she can’t let him say things he doesn’t mean or make promises he can’t keep.

“I’ll never be far enough away that I can’t find you again,” he says. One finger curls beneath her chin, causing her to look up. “I’d crawl back to you if I had to.”

“I guess I could get used to you being on your knees for me,” she replies. She wants to ease the moment, to find some levity that doesn’t make her feel like her heart is about be cut open and left to bleed out.

Rowan leans forward until his nose touches hers, until they’re so close that it would be so easy, so easy, to kiss him. To taste him. To have a small part of him that she’s wanted for so long.

“Only for you, Fireheart.”

…

After

California bleeds neon lights and smoke on the horizon.

At first, Aelin can only stare at the skyline and bustling streets and the myriad of people passing by like they’ve got all the time in the world. At first, Aelin can only breathe in the smog that coats the air like a second skin and the underlying musk of sea water.

She flew into Los Angeles on nothing but a whim and her last paycheck. Elide told her not to go. Aedion insisted she at least wait for him to come with her. Lysandra gave her an extra hundred dollars for an emergency.

Now, she’s wandering the old boardwalks by the ocean, watching waves crash and crowds swarm various popular spots. She doesn’t know where she is exactly. All she knows is that she’s nowhere near Hollywood or all the fancy places that she’d always imagined California to have. But that’s alright. She’s always found her way in the unknown and unpredictable. Even if it has been hell.

It's getting late and all she has guiding her is an old news letter she found online. There’s supposed to be an old grunge bar around here along the downtown scene. A place that supports those small artists with dreams bigger than reality.

The late fall light fades into the horizon, bringing a chill to the air. Aelin hadn’t expected it—cool air and gentle breezes. But she doesn’t mind it. She’s full or energy and worry, which may as well be a good thing as the combination has kept her from spiraling out of control.

When she enters the bar she already things she’s in the wrong place. The low lights and heady scent of cigarettes is enough to tell her so. But she pays a cover fee for the musicians playing and works her way to the front.

A part of her mind screams that she should have gotten here sooner, that it’s nearing the final acts and she’s missed her opportunity. Another part of her is convinced that she shouldn’t even be here to begin with. Afterall, it’s been five years.

But Aelin knows she would wait for any length of time; she’d always find a way back to his side. She got out of her own nightmares even if it did take her years. Maybe she should have called. She even has his number and has listened to every voicemail he’s left on repeat as if its her own lullaby for the darkest nights.

It takes some effort, but Aelin makes it closer to the stage. She’s still two rows back, but it’s close enough, she thinks.

On stage a woman finishes a ballad with her guitar. The music’s simple and her scratchy voice doesn’t hold the song together—at least in Aelin’s opinion, but she’s so far detached from this world, maybe she doesn’t know anything.

As the woman exits, a young college kid steps up to the microphone. His hair falls in his face and he’s trying to layer flannel and an old-style t-shirt that doesn’t quite work for him.

“Next up we’ve got our regular,” the kid announces, already pulling away to make room for the final act. “Rowan Whitethorn.”

All around Aelin, the audience erupts into cheers. They’ve all come for him, she realizes. All eagerly awaiting the one person Aelin’s been waiting her entire life for. She wants to cheer, wants to clap, wants to do anything but stand there and stare. She can’t.

Because walking across the stage to the electric piano set up in the corner is Rowan. Rowan with his hair too long. Rowan with an unlit cigarette behind one ear. Rowan with his da’s guitar case by his side, even now. Rowan with tan skin and tattoos reflecting in the pale light of the bar. Her Rowan that she’s loved for longer than she can say.

He doesn’t look up as he adjusts the settings of the piano and strikes a few keys. He messes with the microphone next, making sure it’s lined up the way he likes it.

When he does look up, it’s as though he’s always expected to find her there. It doesn’t take long at all for their gazes to meet, for his green eyes to burn under the yellow bar lights. His lips part in silent surprise and Aelin feels her skin heat when he cocks his head to one side before finally, a small smile kicks up one corner of his mouth.

He leans in to the microphone—eyes never leaving hers.

“Fireheart,” he says. “I promised we’d find each other again.”

…

After

She’s lost again.

But not in the way she once was.

Because instead of being surrounded by her nightmares, she’s tangled up in strong arms that haven’t let her go in hours. She’s lost in him like never before.

She doesn’t mind of course. Because she’s lost in him this time. Skin to skin, soul to soul. And there’s no place she’d rather be.

Aelin sighs and burrows in closer to his side. He smells of pine and snow just like always. It’s better than her memories, being so close to him. Better than anything she could have hoped for. She never thought it would come to this.

For so long she’d wandered through her life trying like hell to find her ways. Too often it felt like she was drowning, scrambling for air, for salvation.

And then she’d met Rowan.

She doesn’t blame him for leaving. She told him as much when he tried to apologized. Silenced him with her kisses, in fact.

Somehow they made it back to his apartment—small and tucked above a Thai restaurant. It didn’t take them long to rediscover each other. For Rowan to find the new scars along her back, for Aelin to learn the paths of his new tattoos. It didn’t take long at all to fall together into bed and spend the night whispering promises into the neon lights that filtered through the bedroom drapes.

“Fireheart,” Rowan whispers, his soft voice enough to pull Aelin from her thoughts.

She looks up into his eyes, already smiling. “Buzzard.”

Rolling his eyes, Rowan runs a hand up her bare side, the calluses on his fingers catching her skin. It’s enough to cause her to shiver which lights a new fire in Rowan’s gaze.

Whatever he was going to say is lost as he leans in and kisses her. She reacts instantly, not that she can help it. Everything about Rowan draws her in. His mouth is insistent and teasing and his hands leave hot trails against her skin as he pulls her on top of him.

It’s only when they’re both gasping for air that they break apart. Rowan brushes Aelin’s hair from her face, his large hand running across her cheek.

“What are you doing to me?” he asks.

Their next kiss is slow and languid and sends sparks shooting through Aelin’s entire body.

They don’t speak again until morning when dawn breaks and scatters sunshine across the bed. But when they wake it’s with the knowledge that never again are they going to come apart. They’ll be together across every mile, side-by-side.

end.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

taglist is a joke will reblog soon

#rowaelin #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin month #rowaelinmonth23 #song fic #writtenwrites #fanfic #throne of glass #tog #mat kearney song

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v-love · 1 year

Text

Baby Steps

Chapter One

Kai Anderson x Black Masc!Reader

Summary: You live alone in the cold state of Michigan. You find unexpected comfort in a slightly deranged blue haired man who was not as deranged as he likes to front.

Warnings: A bit of angst, semi sexual situations (you have to squint a little), other than that its fluff at the end!

Not proofread </3

Images/GIFS are not mine.

Word Count: 2,229

Your hands shake softly as you walk through the streets of Michigan, the cool air biting at your cheeks. Currently, you were irritated by something some drunk had told you at the club tonight. You couldn’t understand why people had to be such assholes to you; all you were doing was living. You sigh softly as you unlock the door to your small home. It wasn’t much but it was yours, a place for you to feel safe. That didn’t last though, just two days before you had to deal with neighbors trying to figure you out. “You live alone? But such a handsome young man surely has a girlfriend or something.” The blond woman standing in front of you, Meadow, said. You weren’t too bothered by the assumption of you having a partner nor did the assumption of you being straight.

“I’m gay so you wouldn’t see too many girls here but yeah, I don’t really have anyone.” The brunette man also standing in front of you, Harrison, stands up a bit more straight, now fully paying attention to you. “It’s still a shame; you’re still a…very handsome man.” He says, his eyes taking in your form. You shift a bit, facing him. “I suppose…anyways, I have to finish setting up things so I can start dinner. My friend is coming over, she’ll be hungry.” You say giving your best apologetic smile. You weren’t entirely lying, you just didn’t care for people investigating your life and why you were alone. Sure you were very strong and handsome, who wouldn’t want you. That was the problem, people wanted a token black boyfriend. A token black friend. A quick fling. You weren’t interested in having people like that in your life.

Remembering that encounter with your neighbors, you frown as you lock the door. You hadn’t seen too much of them in the past few days. You look up as someone calls your name. “Rough time at work?” Your friend Kayla says as she walks up to you, helping with your coat. “Of course, it’s a bar. I’m bound to be called some type of slur.” You laugh dryly and hang the coat, feeling Kayla hug you from behind. “You could always come and work for me, Angel Cake.” Turning around to fully hug her, you smile softly at the endearment. She had always said you smelled like the delicious angel cakes you two used to eat you were little. “You and I both know I don’t want to rely on anyone anymore, KJ. I know that my best friend is super successful in her business but I need to do this on my own.” Sighing, she pulls away and takes you to the kitchen, choosing not to argue. As you two eat what she made for you, she tells you that in the morning she had to go back home. “It was nice that you stayed over this weekend. I wish they didn’t have to call me in today.” You say, looking at her with an apologetic look. “Oh forget that, I really don’t care. You have Hulu so I was fine.” She says and laughs, making you chuckle a bit as well. As you both clean up, you listen to her talk about her bakery. You look over at her, she was absolutely glowing with happiness. She talked about how well things were going with her new man, James. You snort a bit every time she mentions him because he looked exactly like someone you both enjoyed watching on tv. As you both settle into the same bed, drifting closer to hold each other, you think about how you both used to do this when you were younger and how long ago it was since you both last did this. Smiling, you fall asleep and dream about you both as children.

In the morning you awake alone. You smile a bit as you remember Kayla’s foot kicking your thigh. She was still the same as always. Stretching as you get out of bed, you head over to the bathroom, brushing your teeth and washing your face. Your hands tremble a bit from the cold water as you dry them and our face, looking at the mirror. “I need a line up...where’s my phone?” You look around and find it, texting your barber if he had any free spots today or tomorrow. While waiting for his response you get ready to go run errands. Slipping on your shoes and zipping up your coat, you walk to the bus stop. You had to pick up your car today, you were excited to finally be able to drive again instead of getting on a lukewarm bus. Waiting for the bus, you see Harrison getting in his car with a gym uniform. “He could probably hook me up with a membership...” you say to yourself as the bus stops in front of you. You scan your card and sit down towards the back, silently watching the world pass by.

Getting off of the bus, you walk to the workshop, smiling at your mechanic. “Hey, how much do I owe you?” You say to him, watching him get the receipt and handing it to you. As you paid, you two talk about whatever you both saw on the news and the weather. Soon you’ll be needing new tires for the winter. As you get in the car you sigh softly, money was getting tight but you needed to fix your car. It wouldn’t have lasted long if you just left it alone. Driving to the gym you sigh, wondering if you should get another job there. Getting out of the car and heading inside the gym, you look around, taking in the atmosphere. It didn’t feel stuffy or uncomfortable to be there like in other places. You see Harrison walking up to you with a pleased smile on his face. “Well hello there, I didn’t know you worked out here.” He says, holding a rag and some spray. “I don’t, I actually wanted to sign up. I didn’t know you worked here, maybe you could help me.” You say, ignoring the way Harrison looked a you. “I definitely can.” You watch as he slips behind the counter, typing and clicking away to get you set up. After he hands you paperwork to fill out. “When you’re done just come get me. I need to clean the windows.” You nod and smile a little, starting to fill out everything you needed to.

In the corner of your eye you see a blue haired man walk up to Harrison, speaking to him in a low tone. You wondered if he was his boss or if he was just another trainer. Shaking your head, needing to focus on the paperwork. As you fill the last page, you feel a pair of eyes boring into the side of your head, making you look up. The blue haired man smiled warmly at you and walked off, letting Harrison finish up. You flip through the paperwork and made sure you filled out everything before going up to Harrison. “Here, I think I got everything.” He nods a you and quickly goes through it, putting everything the computer at a fast pace. You could tell he’d been working there for awhile at how fast he did everything. “You should get an email for an electronic version of the membership card...” he says as he hands you two cards, one for a key chain and the other just lie any other card. “Is there anything you want to sign up for now or do you just wanna work out?” Harrison asked, looking up from the computer. “Yeah I definitely need a trainer. It’s been a couple months since I’ve been to a gym, I need to get back on track.” You say, watching him look back at the computer. “Well we do have a spot open in 30 minuets for...Annea Willow.” He says, smiling up at you. “She’s real great, trust me. Or I could train you if you’d rather have someone you already know.” Harrison says, scrolling on the computer more. You contemplate it, Harrison who is a nosy neighbor but overall not unpleasant or a random person you don’t know. “Could we start with you first and when I get more comfortable I could switch.” Harrison smiles brightly as he nods, typing fast and looking back up at you. “How about you train with me for about 3 weeks then we transfer you to Annea?” Seeing you nod in agreement , he books all the sessions. “Perfect, we can start now if you’d like. Unless you want a mini tour before anything?”

After a tour, you put your things in your locker, humming softly as you tie your shoes. “You new here?” Turning your head you see the blue haired man again. “Yeah I am. You?” Seeing him shake his head you nod. He walks closer and ties your other shoe, wanting to help you be a little faster. “I’ve been here for two years. The people here are pretty chill.” He says and stands, looking down at you. Nodding you stand after picking up your water bottle, the man’s eyes widening slightly as he realizes how much taller you are. “I guess we will have to see. You and I are very different so I’m bound to have a different experience.” You say smiling a bit, looking at him throw your locs. “I’ll see you around?” You say and watch him nod, walking away to get to your training.

Groaning a bit, you stretch as you watch Harrison write things down. “You did good today. I think we should start working on endurance the next time we meet.” He says as he looks at your sweat form. He shifts a bit and clears his throat, looking away while catching your attention. “Which is tomorrow, same time?” You say, sipping from your water bottle. Seeing Harrison nod you smile. “Alright, I’ll see you then. I feel good, don’t feel overworked.” You say as you walk away, heading to the showers. You see the blue haired man running on the treadmill, his hair now in a half up, half down style. You had to admit he looked good like that. Taking off your clothes in the stall you shower, hearing others shower as well. The sighs coming from different stalls making you sigh as well. You were surprised how clean everything was, wondering if these men were any different from the men back at home. After showering and changing into fresh clothes, you stop by the front desk. “Harrison, say hi to Meadow for me, alright?” You say, handing him a piece of paper. “I never gave y’all my number so here. Just in case, y’know?” You smile as Harrison nods, putting your contact in his phone and sending you a text. You do as he did and wave slightly as you head out the door, tying up your locs in a loose bun. You hear someone walking up to you. “Good workout?” You hear the blue haired man say, smiling at you. “Oh hey, yeah it was. You?” He nods and pats the sweat off of his forehead with the back of his hand. “Yeah…I realize I never gave you my name. I’m Kai. Kai Anderson.” Kai’s smile widens when you tell him your with a soft chuckle. “Strong name, I like it. You gonna be here tomorrow?” He watches intently as you nod, saying that you had a session with Harrison at the same time. “He’s a good trainer, he’s mine as well. Today was just me running and I think I have training on Tuesday.” Kai says, you both standing in front of your car. “Well I don’t having thing that day so I’ll be like you, running on the treadmill. It’s getting late, we should head home. I’ll see you tomorrow? Tuesday?” You say, watching Kai’s facial expressions change from happiness to excitement. “Tomorrow, I’ll meet you here okay?” You nod and say your goodbyes, getting in your respective cars.

On the drive home you think about the people you met today. You were surprised at how much you enjoyed training with Harrison. Sure, he was hitting on you and of course it’s an ego boost but it was fun. As you kept thinking about how everything went, your mind would drift back to Kai. The way he smiled at you as if you were the prettiest person he’d ever seen. You wondered if Kai was just being nice when he would say certain things. Letting your mind drift in a sort of daydream, you begin to picture a friendship with everyone. Spending time together, having dinner, playing card games, getting high. You quickly shake out of those thoughts, disappointed in yourself. You just met them and you were already planning on doing things together with them. Were you that lonely? Maybe you were. You wished KJ was there to distract you from these sad thoughts but you knew she was busy with her new beau. Just as you park, you get a text from an unknown number.

hey i hope you don’t mind but i asked harrison for your number. its kai.

Then another text.

i hope you got home safe :)

Author’s Note: i hope you guys enjoyed this! i wanted to take my time with this series because it’s important that i get it right. if you have any questions send them in!! also, when i say locs, i mean the hairstyle, not like...long hair. you get it i hope.

Special thanks to @prttyghost for requesting this!! Also special thanks to @lcnelyghost for letting me put her in this series!!

Thank you for reading Chapter One of Baby Steps.

Taglist: @yes-divine-ruler @quicksilversg1rl @evanpetersfav @prttyghost @lcnelyghost

If you’d like to be added to the taglist, send in a request!!!

#american horror story #american horror story fic #ahs fanfic #ahs #ahs cult #ahs kai #ahs kai anderson #kai anderson #kai anderson fic #kai anderson fluff

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sirensarecallingmehome · 2 years

Text

Unspoken

This is a song fic for Welshly Arms - Unspoken. Please listen to it while you read this.

EddieXFem!Reader

Warnings: Lots of angst. Probably some swearing because this is Eddie. Mentions of alcohol and violence, but nothing extreme.

AN: I imagined this to be sort of modernAU even though it’s not largely hinted, I just wanted to point this out in case someone reads something and is like “Wait a second...”.

Bolded text are song lyrics

Drunk up all the wine on the back porch Listen to the rain through the willow trees Must have been something in the melody

Eddie was just dozing off sprawled across the sofa when Y/N arrived home from another late shift at the diner. She sighed when the smell of booze hit her nose, her tired eyes finding the empty bottles cluttered on the coffee table. The front door closed a little louder than intended causing her to wince and curse under her breath. Eddie’s head shot up at the sound and he turns to her with an accusatory glare, “Did you have another nice night with David?” His words are slurred, voice thick with sleep making it almost impossible to understand him.

You try to play it off but your eyes roll I know I said things that I didn’t mean We’ve never been good at apologies

“Eddie let’s not do this tonight, please,” she pleads with him weakly, too exhausted to do this same old song and dance right now. She knew it was just the alcohol talking, it always brought out the worst of his insecurities. Y\N kicked off her shoes at the door and set her purse down on the armchair beside the sofa, bringing her hand up to rub at her sore eyes, “I’m going to bed.”

“We’re not done here, Y/N,” Eddie struggles to his feet and sways dangerously as he stumbles toward her. “Every damn night I lay awake wondering where the hell you are. I can’t stand thinking about you alone in that diner with him when I am right here!” He reaches out and grips her by the shoulders, his impairment causing him to stumble and force her painfully back against the kitchen counter.

“Would you stop it! You are suffocating me!” Y/N brings her hands up and shoves against his chest, effectively breaking his hold. Eddie staggers back and she makes a break for the bedroom before he can react, slamming the door closed and turning the lock.

So just lay close to me We don’t have to say sorry Your touch still speaks When words are too heavy

That night Y/N lays awake unable to fall asleep, Eddie’s pillow tucked close to her chest as she lets the torrent of tears roll down her cheeks. The scent of him engulfs her, but it is hardly comforting right now.

Slow down, just breathe Even though we feel broken Sometimes love is unspoken

She creeps out into the living room the next morning and finds Eddie laying on his stomach on the couch fast asleep. He looks so peaceful and vulnerable; it pains her for what she is about to do. She reaches for the throw blanket on the chair and drapes it over him, then kneels down beside the couch to brush his messy curls away from his face. “I’m sorry baby,” she whimpers softly and places a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Y/N has to tear herself away before she loses her nerve and rises to her feet. She goes to retrieve the duffle bag from the bedroom and places a folded note onto Eddie’s pillow, then she walks to the front door and to her car without another look back. Once she is pulling down the road, she finally lets the tears fall again.

Bullets from the tongue always hurt more We both know the heart’s not bulletproof I know where to aim when I want too

Eddie wakes up several hours later feeling disoriented and sore from the night on the sofa. He sits up slowly and feels the blanket pool around his waist. He smiles softly when he thinks about Y/N covering him up before she left for work this morning. Eddie gets up slowly and wanders into the bedroom to get some clean clothes and take a shower. He vaguely remembers the argument from last night and wants to kick himself for it. It was stupid, he does trust her, but every now and then he gets stuck in his own head and convinces himself that Y/N is going to leave him for someone better. He’ll make it up to her like he always does, and everything will be fine, he’s sure.

And maybe we’re not perfect right now But I know we will figure this out

Fresh from the shower and feeling energized, Eddie wanders back into the shared bedroom to retrieve his pack of cigarettes from his side table. His eyes land on the folded paper sitting innocently on his pillow and he freezes. Fear sends his pulse racing and all he can do is stare at it. With shaking hands Eddie reaches for the paper and carefully unfolds it:

Eddie,

I’m so sorry, I don’t want to do this. I think that we should spend some time apart to figure out what we want to do with this relationship. I love you with all my heart, you know I do, but I can’t do this anymore if you don’t trust me. You’re the only man I want, and I wish that you could see it in yourself how amazing and deserving you are. I’m going to stay with my parents for a few days, please remember to take care of yourself.

Love,

Y/N

“No,” The word leaves his lips as a choked sob. Eddie feels like he can’t breathe, his vision is going dark and the room starts to spin. He falls to his knees still gripping the letter and lets out an anguished scream. Large, hot tears are streaming down his burning face to land on the carpet below him. Eddie screams another time, reaching out to slam the desk chair against the floor in frustration. This can’t be happening.

So just lay close to me We don’t have to say sorry Your touch still speaks When words are too heavy

“Are you sure you guys can’t make things work, Sweetheart?”

Y/N is curled up on her mother’s couch, tucked snugly beneath a warm blanket while her mom sits beside her. She sighs and wipes at the stray tears as she stares down at the photograph in her hands. It’s her favorite one of her and Eddie together, back when they first started dating. They were sitting on her mom’s back porch facing each other. Eddie had his acoustic in hand and was smiling so sweetly at her, her own expression so warm and content as she smiled back at him. That felt like a lifetime ago, one free from struggle and heartache.

She ran her thumb tenderly over his image and felt a fresh wave of tears hit her as she shook her head, “I don’t want to lose him.”

Slow down, just breathe Even though we feel broken Sometimes love is unspoken

“I’m sorry, your call has been-”

“Fuck!” Eddie throws his phone into the passenger seat and grips the steering wheel tighter. His van is speeding down the back roads as he races to get to Y/N. It’s dangerous, he knows, the torrential downpour is making it difficult to see lines in the road, but his heart is still hammering in his chest and he presses further on the gas pedal. I can’t lose her.

A bright flash of lightning illuminates a fallen tree across the road about 200 yards in front of him. Eddie puts his foot on the brakes, but he’s going too fast and hydroplanes across the road. He begins to swerve and guides the van into a shallow ditch, narrowly missing the tree. “SHIT!SHIT!SHIT! JESUSHCHRIST!” Eddie beats his fists against the steering wheel and throws his head back against the seat. He takes a deep breath and screams frustratedly, then rips of his seatbelt off and throws the door open. Eddie’s shoes become waterlogged as soon as he jumps out of the van, the heavy rain drenching him instantly. He pulls his jacket tighter, squares his shoulders, and starts to walk the rest of the way.

Lay close to me We don’t have to say sorry Your touch still speaks When words are too heavy

Y/N sits in the upstairs sunroom, a warm mug of tea in hand as she watches the storm rage on. It’s nearing dark and the streets are beginning to flood from the excess rain. Every now and then the loud crack of thunder rumbles through the house and vibrates the walls. She notices something moving just up the road and she hurries to the window for a better look. After a minute she could make out the shape of a person, tall and lanky with dark hair. Her mind races wondering just who would be insane enough to be out walking in this storm. As the person hobbles closer Y/N catches sight of the person’s jacket and immediately her heart is in her throat. Before she can even think about it, she is already flying through the house and out the front door, her bare feet splashing through the flood water.

“EDDIE!” Y/N has her arms around his neck as soon as she reaches him. She squeezes him tightly as she feels him shivering harshly. He feels so cold. Eddie stiffly brings his arms around to hold her close, buries his nose in her hair and takes a deep, shuddering breath. He can’t believe she’s here.

“What the hell are you doing out here? Are you crazy?” Y/N has pulled back now and reaches out to push back the locks plastered to his face to get a good look at him. His face is pale from the cold and his trembling lips are a faint shade of blue. His eyelids are red and heavy like he had been crying. She places a warm hand against his cool cheek and speaks to him again, but it’s like he can’t hear her.

Slow down, just breathe

Eddie’s mind is fuzzy. He feels so cold. His body is protesting every step of the way, but he is determined to keep going. Eddie hears her voice over the pounding rain like hearing an angel speak to him. He feels her whole body press against him like a warm blanket and relaxes in her hold, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her tighter to him. Eddie feels his heart flutter pitifully when she pulls away, afraid she was going to leave again. His eyes roam her pretty face, taking in her red, puffy eyes and falling to her lips where he becomes entranced. He can see that she’s speaking, but he can’t hear her. She’s here. She’s right here. Without warning Eddie cups the back of her head and brings his face down to capture her lips in a searing kiss that Y/N returns with as much passion. I love you.

Even though we feel broken Sometimes love is unspoken

Eddie is sitting on the guest bed with Y/N standing between his legs. He’s got his arms wrapped around her middle; his face pressed against her chest as she gently towel dries his tangled locks. “I’m so sorry baby,” he whispers and leans up to press a tender kiss over her heart. Y/N drops the towel to the bed and leans back to meet his eyes with a teary smile.

”I’m sorry too.” She wraps her arms around his shoulders and places a lingering kiss to his temple.

Sometimes love is unspoken

Eddie grips her sides and leans back onto the bed, pulling her on top of him. She follows him with a soft laugh making him smile warmly. One of his hands strokes up her back, the other going to the back of her head. “Please don’t leave me,” Eddie pleads, his eyes brimming with fresh tears. Y/N shakes her head slowly. She places her hand against his cheek, her thumb stroking soothingly as she leans down to his lips.

”Never.”

Sometimes love is unspoken

He meets her the rest of the way, capturing her lips in a slow and tender kiss.

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson fic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #I'm so sorry!!

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catharsim · 1 year

Note

UHHH 1-10: evens for Stavis odds for Luvina / 30-40 evens for pheck and odds for lawwe and century *maniacal laugh*

This is gonna be so long, here we go...

2. Who does most of the cooking?

Neither of them truly 'cook' because they can afford to always eat out, order room service, or in Mavis' case, have a personal chef.

4. Who says creepy paper and who says crepe paper?

I cant say I see either of them saying creepy paper unless maybe Mavis is drunk and slurring her words lmao

6. Who's the sun and who's the moon?

Mavis is a leo, so she is definitely the sun. And Stefan's penthouse is Cave Chic™ so he is definitely the moon 🖤

8. What are their cooking habits? Who cooks meals and who "cooks" insta-ramen?

See the first question. They've made a couple of things like popcorn and an attempt at waffles without catching anything on fire but that's about where their cooking adventures end lmao.

10. What are their love languages?

Stefan's is physical touch, acts of service (he's a virgo I dont make the rules), and a sprinkle of words of affirmation. Mavis' is words of affirmation and physical touch

1. Who sleeps on the left and right side of the bed?

I’ve always pictured Luca on the left side but it really just depends on where the bed is relative to the door, because he’ll sleep closest to that!

3. Who's the little and big spoon?

Luca loves being big spoon but he also doesnt mind if Davi wants to be big spoon because it means he just gets to be near her #simp

5. Who screams and who kills the spider?

You know what, Davi kills the spider. With a palm strike. Luca wouldnt scream unless he tried to kill it and missed.

7. How do they share chores?

I think as of right now, Luca would do most of the household things like trash, dishes, etc and let Davi handle things like finances, making the grocery lists, and laundry/dry-cleaning as to not ruin her fancy clothes.

9. How do they handle arguments? What do they argue about?

Haha they used to love to argue before they gave in to their sexual tension sdnfsdfsd. Nowadays I feel like they try to communicate in a healthy way and apologize if their emotions get the better of them. I dont see them arguing about much besides maybe how much money Davi spends on designer stuff simply because Luca can’t comprehend being wealthy lmao. Or her dad being the antichrist.

30. What are their nicknames for each other?

They call each other by their last names. Lucchesi (Beck) and Macmillan (Phoebe). Or sometimes, P and B.

32. How are they intimate with each other in a nonsexual way?

Ah. They’re masters at grazing hands and the longing gaze. They vent to each other about their families and pass no judgement. Beck lets her take photos of him, even though he hates his picture taken, because he knows she enjoys it. Quiet embraces. Train rides.

34. What couple from another media reminds you of them?

Beck reminds me so hard of Tommy from Peaky Blinders, but I’m not sure Tommy and Grace’s relationship fit Pheck. There’s this couple on Tiktok that reminds me of them much more tho! Example here (just being goofy and weird with each other and looking good while doing it heheh )

36. Who wakes up and falls asleep first?

Well Phoebe sleepwalks so it’s hard to give an accurate answer lmao. I’d say that Beck is the one who wakes up first though, it’s engrained in him to always be up early, further proving his grandpa-ness. Phoebe would fall asleep first with the help of her Ambien I’d think.

38. What do they love most about each other?

Phoebe loves that despite all Beck has dealt with/been through, that his big heart remains underneath the hardened and composed exterior. Beck loves Phoebe’s sense of artistic wonder and how she is unapologetically herself.

40. Do they have any jealous tendencies over each other?

They were broken up when they were teenagers and ran in the same circle for several years, remaining friends. But they had to watch each other move on with different people and that definitely sparked jealousy for the both of them. Maybe more so for Beck I think, because his family was the reason they had to break up in the first place.

Lawwe and Century? Idk who those people are sowwy...

#oc stuff: mavis #oc stuff: luca #oc stuff: beck #i'll do the other chars on a sep post cause this is so long my god #ship: stavis #ship: pheck #ship: luvina

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guidedhearts · 9 months

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❛ noah? stay with me! don’t fall asleep! ❜ ( @eunieinnit at noah )

* ⟢ from a meme i don't remember . / @eunieinnit ⟢

he's ... tired . he's always tired , but not in a way such as this . not like the world is moving as slow as he is tired , yet spinning way too fast at the same time . it must be what dying feels like . wait , dying ? that can't be right - i can't be dying now . they'd never forgive me . and z ... he still needs to be defeated . this can't be the end .

yet , out of all the near death experiences he's had in his short life , this feels the closest noah has ever been to the edge of it . which should be scarier than anything , but the feeling of fear is .. far off , somehow . as if he knows somewhere he is afraid , but it's detached . it's as far away as eunie's voice is as she shakes him , tries to keep him awake . awake ? at some point , his arms must have stopped holding him up off the ground , and now he's lying on his back it seems . that's what he can tell , at least , given that the healer is looking down at him with worry written all over her face . please don't worry . i'm -- ' -- 'm fine . s'fine . ' he barely slurs the words out , it's exhausting to speak and he's so tired . can't close my eyes . eunie doesn't want me to .

it would be so nice to close his eyes and take a short rest right now . just a quick one .

somewhere in the back of his mind , he registers that she does not believe his poorly spoken words and is using some sort of healing art based on the warmth he's now surrounded by . it feels nice , welcoming him into the sweet embrace of sleep . it's comforting , like the embrace of an old friend . of crys , or of joran , perhaps . there's a small smile on his face at that thought - the chances of either of them waiting elsewhere for him are at zero with everything considered . still , it's nice to think about and let the thought lull him gently to sleep with the warmth of her healing art still enveloping him . she doesn't want him to sleep , but sparks , it's all he wants right now . noah doesn't often do what he wants , this one time couldn't hurt ...

but before he knows it , the harsh feeling of his friends shaking him awake and calling his name desperately pulls him back from the edge . now instead of the warm , calm embrace of sleep , he's greeted by the harsh reality of the anxiety he's always known and intense pain in his abdomen . shit - not dying really hurts .

' s-sorry , eunie .. forgot you said not to fall asleep . '

#tw death #tw near death #noah * ⟢ ❮ speaking ❯#noah: i never get to do what i want !!! let me die !!!!#eunie: fuck u will bitch !!!

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byakuyasdarling · 1 year

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hi freyaaa ♡ heard you were in need of a distraction? i’ve got silly questions for you to answer! i guess this is mostly for s/i-ey stuff but you can also just answer normally

— what was the thing that initially drew you to him? what do you think would be the thing that initially drew him to you?

— favorite feature or trait of his!

— what sort of habits does he have?

— what’re your thoughts on his taste? fashion, general aesthetics, etc. if he doesn’t actually have one (like not rlly mentioned in game) give a hc on what you think he’d like!

— how do ya sleep together? any morning or night routine you guys follow?

— first intimate /nsx (like, affectionate) moment you had!

— tell us something underappreciated/underrated about him!

— what’re his thoughts on stereotypical couple stuff? (pda, matching items, pet names, etc.)

— any of your favorite ship artworks !!

don’t feel obligated to answer if you don’t want to!! i just LOVEE hearing people go on about their f/os (´ω｀*)

Awww, thank you so much for the ask, Mika !! 🌟♥️ I hope you are doing well today :) 🌻

What was the thing that initially drew you to him? What do you think would be the thing that initially drew him to you?

I answered the first part of this [here!]. Though… what drew him to me (or more rather, S/I — though we are literally the same)… I think it really would be the fact she was intelligent enough to communicate on his level and understand *him* so deeply — loving him wholly outside of his family identity. It means so much to him ♥️♥️

Favourite feature or trait of his?

OOO. That’s always so difficult, I love so much about him!! But it’s always interesting trying to get to a succinct answer… I could cheap out and say intelligence, because really, I do think it’s his most attractive quality. It definitely fuels a lot of other traits I love about him too. But when limited to just one trait rather than an umbrella term, I would say it’s his loyalty to duty and work ^-^

What sort of habits does he have?

Many cute ones <3 Mainly, he hums when he’s really comfortable — primarily, it’s when he’s reading. He really doesn’t like it being called out, so S/I never says anything about it. But she absolutely loves when he hugs her from behind and starts gently humming in her ear as she paints, cooks, or otherwise. Shoe and thumb tapping is another thing he tends to do — he’s just very musical (from the raw amount of instruments he plays).

He also likes playing with S/I ring finger periodically — just for when he’s really soft and retrospective about things ♥️

What are your thoughts on his taste? (Fashion, aesthetics, etc.)

I answered fashion [here!]… as for aesthetics I general… probably something that resembles dark academia… Just like S/I, he enjoys furniture and rooms that are generally darker; when he’s with his love it feels so comfortable and warm ♥️♥️

How do you guys sleep together? Any morning or night routines you guys follow?

They both shower before bed — Byakuya will help her wash her hair as needed, and vice versa. She loves giving him back massages too :) he never really talks during such tender moments beyond a mutter of “good girl” and a relaxed slur of words pertaining to something akin to, “that’s right, sweetheart”.

Both tend to like to cuddle up of a night and fall asleep to either a crime documentary, or a good book ♥️ They most commonly spoon (with Byakuya as the big spoon — he can’t deal with vulnerability well), or they’ll honeymoon hug if S/I is upset or afraid. Sometimes she just wants to put her whole self around him though and cling on to his warmth and safety :)) When it’s a bit hot — they’ll sweetheart cradle.

It took a while for Byakuya to be acclimated to that stuff, but he really values cuddling up now. He prefers to be very close with her, especially of a night, so he knows she’s safe in his arms. He’s also a massive sleep cuddler — his touch deprivation really has done a number on him.

First intimate (affectionate) moment you had?

Aside from the obvious kiss or holding of hands, I can think of this specific, very vulnerable action for him that was a true tell of his trust and affection. Often, S/I will lie on his chest, but there are a handful of moments where this switches.

Due to S/I being generally smaller of frame, she has to lie at an angle for him to lay atop of her — and it’s something he’d hardly do at all except when he’s particularly stressed and starved of her presence.

Because of his hardships in terms of vulnerability, this is rather huge for him; he “doesn’t need to be held and comforted like a child”, his mind tells him. But god it feels good to him, to finally be loved unconditionally, held, no need for him to be perfect. Finally, there is stability in his life in another person; he truly values that ♥️🌻 Plus, he just finds laying his head in her chest really comfortable, LMAO.

Tell us something unappreciated/ underrated about him!

In terms of blatant canon, definitely his musical prowess or his noted athletic talent. Like, NO ONE pays attention to the fact he’s actually very fit. Now, I do not care about a man’s muscles, but I do appreciate the effort that goes into being fit — and I hate the fact that *some* people in the fandom had called him derogatory names or made suppositions about him that didn’t at all acknowledge how athletic he is.

But, frustration aside, music 🎵♥️ I love music, it’s a very big part of my life and not often explored on his character by others — but it’s clear it means a lot to him. It’s another one of his few notes hobbies, and something he actually enjoys and cares about. It doesn’t really fit in with the rest of his staunch, logical, inflexible mind. But it’s that bit that’s so charming — a blatant tell he has heart and connection with culture… something that allows a glimpse into the nature of his emotions. He plays such a grand variety of instruments, though it seems piano and violin are his preferred ones. I would love to hear him play ♥️

What are his thoughts on stereotypical couple stuff? (e.g., PDA, matching items, pet names)

He’s not be fond of PDA, he doesn’t want to show weakness to the world. I remember saying he eases into it more when they have a family (yeah… that long…) but he will hold her hand or bring her into his side as they walk. Just protective stuff that helps a bit with sticking together and such. He does really love being near her after all, and isn’t afraid to show people who he is dedicated too. Just no kissing and hugging.

Matching items is another thing he is not great with… He really isn’t a jewellery man, not in the slightest. He loves giving jewellery TO her, but find it clunky and unnecessary on himself. Rings impede his ability to play instruments, and generally are just *in the way*.

In his original concept art brainstorm sheet, there is one drawing he has two rings as power symbols. I was quite surprised he didn’t have a ring with a family crest since he is an aristocrat — so hence, thought was put into it and clearly they figured it wouldn’t be for him.

However, he does really love their wedding rings, which are items that match, I suppose. They’re both thin, but very durable. So, it doesn’t get in his way.

PET NAMES. He wasn’t too with it at first, but he really likes it. Loves calling her pet names, it really cements that sense of ownership in his mind. Like he truly is hers, as she is his. With his past, that’s so important to him. I originally said he prefers “my darling”, the most but I’m now leaning towards “my dear”, and “sweetheart”, at the moment. “Little dove” is his personal one to her. I have a post on it [here!].

Any of your favourite ship artworks!

Ooohh~~ I love this one :) definitely most recent post [here!!]

I mean — 20 hours give or take… but it’s so beautiful and the bells hold a lot of personal meaning to me. I’m glad people loved the bells, and the artwork so much ♥️💫

#thank you so much this was hours of daydreaming aaa ♥️♥️

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tteokdoroki · 3 years

Text

saccahrine sundays | k.bakugou

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 5.3K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: pro hero!au, married!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: katsuki can never find enough time to get some sleep. between being a full time pro hero, a father and a husband— hours of rest are hard to come by. unless it’s one of those sweet, sweet saccharine sundays.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, pwp ( characters aged up to late twenties ), somnophilia, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, kids ), fingering ( female recieving ), tummy bulges, mating press, pregnancy!kink, daddy!kink, breeding!kink, light!exhibitionism, cumplay + needy bakugou has a praise!kink... <3

♡ author’s note(s): brrr hey guys! it feels like forever since i last posted a full fic, january was bleh so im happy to get this out !! special thanks to @greenchild for feeding me this idea and thank to all of you for your love, support and 2.8K. i love you all, enjoy <3

♡ masterlist | requests

katsuki bakugou couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten a full nights sleep. between being a pro hero and family life, the full eight to nine hours of pure rest wasn’t easy to come by— now he wasn’t complaining, he was far too grateful for the life he lead to whinge and whine about the finer details. bakugou was right on track to becoming the number two, he had a beautiful wife who loved him and supported him no matter how reckless he might have been and two little brats that he adored more than anything. he was miles ahead of his high school classmates, never letting up or resting so like he said, there was no room to complain.

but even as the faintest wisps of light slip through drawn curtains and a vermillion gaze settled on the old all might digital alarm clock ( reading 9:01 AM ), katsuki bakugou can’t help but feel grateful for the sleep he just had. no interruptions from wailing toddlers or infants who need changing, no late night call ins for patrols— none of that, just an arm around his wife’s waist and the soft sound of her breathing to coax him out of his sleepy state.

bakugou remembers now, a distant yet far from faint memory of where he and his wife spent two days of their honeymoon under slumber’s spell, having ravished each other the very night they arrived in paris for their honeymoon ( all mina’s idea, she had told katsuki it was the perfect destination for newly weds in love— and whilst the several districts his alien friend recommended did appease you, the blonde had promised to take you on a more luxurious getaway when he was hire up in the hero rankings ). of course that very honeymoon lead you to fall pregnant with your first little miracle— taiga bakugou, the very spitting image of her father except or the slight tilt to her nose and the sparkle in her eye that only her mother possessed.

raising her had proven to be both an enjoyable and exhausting experience for katsuki, with a matching explosive personality to rival even her daddy’s— there were many restless nights the pro hero spent butting heads with his daughter while his sweet spouse was away on missions and getting used to the field again. even during the pregnancy, full nights of rest were little to none— the cravings taiga gave you were almost unbearable for the blonde, not to mention the 2AM labour his little girl put you through...and yet he would repeat the last four years of lack of sleep all over again if it meant reliving every single moment with you. raising tatsumo was much better; however.

so as the weight of well deserved slumber lifts from katsuki’s shoulder’s he’s forced to deal with the memories of your sweet cries from the night (or rather, nights) he made you his wife. he stirs under cotton sheets, a familiar hardness pressing against his inner thigh as he recalls the way you tightened around him— “honey baby,” the desperate whisper tastes foreign, bitter across his tastebuds as he licks his lips. katsuki was usually much more composed when it came to sex, he could hold out for hours while you pleaded and begged of him to give you more. but this morning was different, very much so.

skilfully, the ash blonde slips a hand between your sheets, finger tips calloused with years of training and battle, dancing up your bare thighs from where you wear only his shirt and a pair of panties. the fingers trail up to your underwear, pressing them against your cunt as bakugou watches your face for any reaction— you twitch once before falling back into a deep slumber, letting your husband know that he can continue. he peels like orange silk away from your core and down your legs, half resisting the urge to sniff your undergarment like the dirty man he is but he decides that he can longer wait, already turned on by the feeling of your bare pussy against his hand.

the pro knows exactly how to turn you on, dragging is nails down your thighs just an inch from your wetness and his mind fogs with lust at the thought of the sounds you’d make for him if you were awake...not yet, he says to himself. his next move is to fuck your mouth, two of his digits sliding past parted lips from where you snore— gathering the drool that pools on the surface of your tongue. back and forth; move bakugou’s fingers until he’s satisfied with how wet you’ve made them with your spit. returning those very same fingers to your cunt, he parts your folds— already slightly sticky and hot with the nectar he’s used to savouring. if this were any other time, bakugou would be eating you out like a man starved of his last three meals but the rising sun tells him that his moments to fuck you are very few.

so now, he slides those lubed up fingers right into your tight little hole, shuddering under the sheets at how you automatically clamp around him— even while you sleep. katsuki’s vermillion eyes seek out your face in the warm light of the dusk, watching as your expression contorts into that familiar look of pleasure— lips blossoming into a cherry pout, brows furrowed as if you’re focusing on the way your husband makes you feel.

“fuck, honey baby, so good ‘n pliant for me even when yur fuckin’ sleepin’,” katsuki slurs against saliva that slips along his tongue, he’s hungry to fuck you, make you moan and scissors his fingers deep inside your obedient cunt in away that makes your slumbering body jump. pressing a thumb to your neglected clit, bakugou twists his fingers in search for your g-spot, pumping them into you with vigour. “gonna make you cum angel, baby, please cum while you’re like this s’you can take my cock.”

if there’s one thing pro hero dynamite knows, it’s that your body is a slave to him, no matter what state it’s in. your thighs part instinctively; giving your husband room to curl his fingers and press down hard on your pleasure spot— gummy walls sucking him in deeper. he makes you cum while you sleep, juices staining your supple skin, honeyed from the warm light outside.

“atta girl, cummin’ for your husband like that even when you’re sleeping— so fuckin’ naughty...” katsuki grunts, locks of sun kissed hair beginning to plaster itself against his forehead. his body shakes with the desire to be inside of you, his internal temperature rising with every second that he’s not sheathed within your walls. pulling his fingers away from your twitching mound, bakugou slides them, cum soaked and all, into his mouth to taste your very sweetness. “would eatcha out like a starved man, honeybee, but we don’t gotta lot of time left baby...”

with that, bakugou shuffles his sweats down enough for his cock to spring free, tip bright red and leaking against his toned, scarred abdomen. with practised ease, he hooks your right leg over his waist and positions your dripping cunny right over the head of his length. it takes everything katsuki has not to plunge deep inside of you, to abuse your tempting cunt until it’s formed into the shape of his cock but for once he wants to take you slowly, enjoy his time with your limp body at his disposal.

pressing his girth against your slick entrance, your husband sighs, coating himself with the remainders of your delightful release. the mess you made just for him, makes it easier for him to guide his cock between your velveteen folds that take him so well. his free hand comes up to brush over your cheek and even in the depths of your rest you manage to nuzzle into katsuki’s palm and make his coo— what a precious little doll you are, so good for him and always so obedient no matter what state you’re in. fuck, it drives him so insane that he can’t even think straight.

“...suki....”

fucking hell. the way you sigh out for him so mawkishly whilst you dream makes him twitch, not even half the way inside you. “c’mon honey baby, don’t go moanin’ my name like that when i haven’t even had a c-chance to make you mine yet—“ the blonde shudders, eyes screwing shut as he finally bottoms out inside of you. katsuki let’s out a choked moan, from deep within his chest while you welcome him into your lethally syrupy cunt. “ohh, fuck, that’s the stuff, good girl...”

bakugou’s thrusts start slow yet, forcing your limp body to jolt up the bed and your tits to bounce in tune with the rhythm of his hips— your little hole sucks him in so greedily, so selfishly, clamping down on him as if to prevent him from leaving your body as a whole. pro hero dynamite is shaken to his core, how can his precious baby take him so darlingly while she’s asleep, refusing to let go of him and keep his cock tucked away inside of you.

shit, shit, shit.

he wants to defile you, asleep or not, ruin how pure and angelic your body appears even after years of being together. it’s your fault he’s like this anyway, you deserve to have your pussy destroyed no matter the circumstances— ruby framed eyes threaten to roll back into his skull while bakugou picks up the swirl of his hips between your sticky thighs, you flutter and squeeze around the girth that’s stretched you out so many times before and yet you still remain a tight hole designed for your husband and your husband alone.

lips map their way up the column of your neck, committing every dip and scar and blemish to memory even though katsuki knows where each of them are. the amber colour of the morning sun highlights each of your marks, your husband giving you as many lovebites to match each one. “nn, suki...more..” you whimper, so quiet he almost misses it underneath the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin. could you feel how he deflowered you in your sleep? ruining such a good girl while you resting? he wants so bad to corrupt you from the inside.

static stretches across katsuki’s brain, crackling as his neurones fire and dopamine fizzes in his veins. cum. cum. breed her. it’s too soon but the blonde can’t help it, pent up and high on the morning sunrise— addicted to the taste of your skin licked with light perspiration. it’s been ages since he’s had you like this, can you blame him for not hanging on so long? bakugou lifts your thigh higher on his waist, using it as leverage to plough into the deepest parts of you, his precious wife, desperate to cream inside you before wake up.

“mm, know you’re close lovebug, won’t you cum for me suki?”

katsuki’s gaze hones in on you, vision blurred and hazy with lust from his impending orgasm. your own eyes are heavy with sleep but the soft smile on your face is filled with a familiar adoration and saccharine love that the blonde can never get tired of. he knows that you know your voice alone is another to send him speeding off of the cliff of release— your hole squeezing around him, beautiful hips that once brought his children into the world gracefully moving up and down to coax his girthy cock to its final release.

“honey baby,” katsuki whines like a broken man when you cup his face, hot puffs of air warming up the space between you. his hips don’t let up though, driven by the way you move against him beneath the sheets, he’s so close he can almost taste it. “c-couldn’t wait for you to wake up, needed you so fuckin’ bad...”

your mouth hangs open in a quiet groan, getting lost in the claps of sweaty bodies against one another and katsuki latches onto your lower lips to swallow your noise— breathing it in and letting it spread through his body like oxygen. “oh, lovebug, y-you don’t...” you pause, eyes rolling to the back of your head as the angry tip of your husband’s cock grazes against your gummy spot, sending your walls into a flurry of flutters that make katsuki twitch. “ ...you don’t ever have to wait with me, d-don’t hold back, kay?”

you’re a breathless mess, a sight to behold and he can’t take not having you filled with his seed any longer. the lazy push and pull of your bodies smacking wetly against each other become erratic thrusts, heat pooling in the abdomen of the pro hero boiling him alive in feelings of desire for you and you alone.

bakugou quivers from his lips to his toes when he cums, filling your slippery walls with a creamy white and lining your insides with the claim of your man. your man. your husband. “fuck, fucking hell, h-honey, gimme that pussy...gimmie that fuckin’ pussy,” his groans linger in the crisp early morning air, dancing with the static while he orgasms within you, endless bouts of white stuffing you to the brim. you kiss in an attempt to calm him, squeezing around his thick cock to ride out his high. you taste of orange liquor and manuka honey, addicting while he sucks lavishly on your tongue and spares you the air you need to breathe. ‘cause at the end of the day call you need is him.

“did you cum, precious one?” ever the gentleman, katsuki has to ask but even you can see in his blood red ruby eyes ( no matter how tired they may seem ) that he’s gearing up for a second round, shallow thrusts pushing his own release deeper into your fertile womb. there’s about thirty minutes until the kids wake up, but your lover can make you see stars in fifteen.

you shake your head once as bakugou rolls you onto your back— strong arms caging you into the prison if his love. large hands dance tenderly up the back of your thighs and you meet his eyes with such a saccharine smile his heart bursts at the sight of you. “you’re insatiable, lovebug,” the tingling notes of your moan caresses bakugou’s cheek as he manoeuvres your legs to fold you into a mating press, shifting his weight above you. “did you really need me that much, daddy bear?”

“think y’already know the answer to that, honeybee,” katsuki drawls, tripping over his words filled, oh so generously with blazing desire. he still remains sheathed inside you, a darling whine dripping from his cherry lined lips— the ones sore from kissing you— as he gives an experimental thrust into the tight heat of your core. you accept him willingly, opening up for him like a blossoming flower which makes katsuki’s hot breath stutter from the overstimulation. neither of you can look away, sharing the intimate moment of his length sinking into you— katsuki groans as you suck him in inch by inch before leaning over and attaching his lips to yours, licking at the seam of them in order to coax them open. his wife is a tease however; denying him the pleasure of sucking on her tongue...for now at least.

but it’s all worth it, for katsuki wants to burn the erotic sight of you beneath him into his mind forever. your skin shines like it was kissed by the setting moon, eyes hooded and holding a lust that only burns brightly for him while your chest heaves in anticipation of your husband claiming you for the second time that morning. “m-move suki, please—c-can’t...” the tail end of your pleas fall away with the fading night sky.

the man doesn’t need to be told twice.

save for a few shallow thrusts to get going, katsuki soon finds himself pistoning into you at an unruly, god speed pace. the blonde revels in the way one hand of yours twirls strands of his hair between your fingers whilst the other digs crescent moons into his blemished honey skin. helpless huffs and candied cries tickle bakugou’s ears while he presses your body flush against his and pins you down with his hips.

their movements don’t ever waver, cock catching on every ridge your damp pussy has to offer him, each thrust calculated amplify your pleasure that rolls in heatwaves throughout your body. katsuki’s mind grows blank, thick with the mirage you’ve cast over him from the way you push back against him, taking more of his inches into you.

“ngh, lovebug,” you say, high off of euphoria while katsuki’s leaking cock bears down harshly on your g-spot and you smile up at him deliriously— looking like the eighth wonder of the world. you grab the hand your husband uses to keep your thighs up and bring it down to your tummy for him to feel what you feel. “can feel your cock inside me, love, so big...makin’ my tummy bulge like a good daddy bear...”

something snaps within katsuki at the sound of your breathless praise; a feral blaze setting alight deep inside his chest— spreading throughout his body as his cock drives deeper and deeper inside your spongy, wet cunt— just about breaching the gates of your cervix. breed her. fuck her. make her swollen with your cum. bakugou can’t even think straight; intoxicated by the way you move against him, the way you look so full of him and his thick length.

he wants you to look full all of the time. so katsuki does with the only way he knows how. dropping his head to your neck, sharp attack your neck with blossoms of bruises forming under your skin in the name of love— you whine, a gorgeous symphony of his name against his ear while you tangle your fingers in the baby hairs at the nape of his neck. “y’can’t jus...jus say stuff like that to me, honey...” bakugou croons against your skin, screwing his eyes shut while his hips pick up the pace and plunging his length right into your womb. the sounds of your arousal wetly spill into the sex scented air— fuelling katsuki to thrust into you faster. “not if you...n-not if you don’t want me to fuck another one of those shitty brats into you.”

as stuttered as his words are, bakugou means every single one of them. a primal desire activates in the back of his mind, overriding every single of senses. just the thought of lining your womb with his pungent seed, making you pregnant once again and seeing you round and full with katsuki’s child is enough to drive him off of the rails. And the pro hero knows that you feel the same, he can tell by the way your heat clamps down on his cock and strangles him, as if to milk him of every ounce of his cum.

“yes, want you to make me pregnant suki, make me a mommy again, please—!” you simper out loud, desperate tears springing to your eyes while the bed groans beneath you. visions of you round and swollen with a baby drives him to thrust into you harder, faster so that more and more of his precum spills into you. “know you want it, want it too...your cum, deep inside me—ohmygod suki—yes!”

bakugou slaps a hand over your mouth, watching as your sweet doe eyes brim with tears at the languid roll of his hips against yours. “careful honeybee, don’t want the kids to...fuckin’ hell... h-hear—“ he stutters, eyes rolling, limbs shaking violently. his other hand drops between your conjoined bodies, drawing vicious circles into your swollen clit to draw you closer and closer to the edge. star dust is littered behind your eyes, the bright white signifying the race to your high that only katsuki can give to you. “or do you want to be heard, you want everyone to hear how full you’re gonna become when i get you pregnant again. how you’ll whine and beg me to suck on your tits when you start makin’ that sweet milk for our baby. is that what you fuckin’ want, yn?”

you can’t help the way your pussy flutters around his cock that brutally grazes your g-spot— the dirty words your husband speaks like music to your ears. a symphony with his moans and the sounds of his balls slapping against your bare ass. “oooh, shit baby, you must do with the way your lil cunny clamps down on me—just like that...”

“oh god, lovebug please...cum...cum! need it daddy bear—can’t take it anymore,” you babble against katsuki’s hand, brain turning to mush at the unbearable pleasure. the knot in your tummy becomes tighter, close to snapping as the white light of pleasure clouds your view.

patterns drawn diligently against your clit speed up; turning to quick figure of eights to tease your orgasm. “‘course you fuckin’ do honey baby, my little breeding bitch. my sweet little wife who can’t wait to be a mommy again. take this cock, you dirty whore. take it and I’ll give you my fuckin’ baby.” bakugou slurs, losing all control as the pace of his hips begins to falter. you can feel his dick twitching inside of you, tip pulsing with the need to paint your insides.

your gazes lock within the frenzy, while your back arches and hips lift to take your husband deeper inside you. dynamite is feral like you’ve never seen before; an animal reduced purely back to instinct. unfocused red eyes become teary like your own with hot pleasure while they lock onto you but you know that behind lust; loved the adoration and love your husband holds for you. thats all you need to reach the edge and tumble into your orgasm,

it takes but a few more thrusts and a pinch to your clit before you’re cumming— release squirting out and splattering against bakugou’s toned abdomen.

the blonde never lets up while you cum undone on his iron hot rod, letting him pump into you with unrelenting feverishness. katsuki is desperate, needing an extra push even with you strangling his cock with your insides. “s-say you’ll make your daddy a daddy baby, say you’ll give me another fucking kid. fuck, fuck yeah...please honey baby—“ bakugou damn near sobs, trembling violently above you as his breath hitches with ever hiccup.

smiling gently, you pull his head to your neck, cradling your husband while his pace slows to circular grinds. “i’ll make you a daddy again, you can cum for me now lovebug...”

“shit, shit, oh god— cummin’...” thats all bakugou needs to hear before bottoming out inside of your abused hole— screaming against your bitten flesh and forcing his cock into your fertile womb as he sprays with his thick, sticky seed. white coats every ridge and crevice of your pussy while impatient thrusts slow to sensual grinds. you feel the tears of neediness soak the supple skin of your neck, rocking your hips against katsuki to milk his cock for all it’s worth— even if slow waves of his cum seep down your folds and to the sheets below.

“g’morning, katsuki,” you sigh blissfully, fingers combing through your lover’s sweaty mop of sun kissed locks. the pair of you lie still, limbs still intertwined as you catch your breath under the orange hues of the light outside.

your husband shifts his head to look at you, eyelids heavy over blood red eyes with a satisfied look on his face. he’ll never get over having you all to himself first thing in the morning— katsuki bakugou will always consider that a luxury and as he looks to you, a great smile soon takes his features. “yeah...good fucking morning to you too, angel face,” bakugou doesn’t dare pull out of you, intent on keeping his word. “love you yn, you’re always so good to me...”

katsuk’s lips mould into a pout as you continue your earlier ministrations of brushing back sweat slicked hair away from his face before pressing a chase kiss to his lip and making his cock twitch from over sensitivity, inside of you. he was always a sucker for the romantic moments after a passionate round of sex, he was a domestic, love struck son of a bitch what could he say? “suki...lovebug, you know you can pull out if it’s too much,” you remind him, the sound of your voice pulling his attention back to you. as he stares; katsuki maps out every detail of your face, the way your eyes glitter in the mellow light that peeks from between closed curtains or the slight dip across your cheek in the form of a scar from where you’d been injured on the field— he spends time committing it all to memory as if it’s the last time he’ll get to witness such beauty. “you’re staring, bug.”

“nuh uh, not pulling out.” huffing, bakugou leans up for another kiss, which you happily provide him with as he curls up onto your chest like a kitten seeking warmth. “keepin’ you plugged full s’you can get preggers like i fuckin’ promised.”

“you were serious?” you question him first, earning yourself another grouchy huff before your eyes roll and a comfortable silence sweeps across your bedroom, periodically interrupted by the morning birds waking up and chirping. “always a man of your word, huh bug? don’t worry, we’ll make you a daddy bear soon, but i’ve got to clean up before the kids wake up.”

“don’ you fuckin’ move— leave the dumbass kids, they’ll be fine on their own.”

“not with taiga’s quirk coming through, now move, you’re heavy.”

with that, you manage to shove bakugou off of you and he only hisses lightly as his softened cock hits the cold air, already missing your heat. the banter between you both as husband and wife is always light and you always win; he wants to bite back but anything he says will be soft on his sharp tongue. damn you and you being the love of his life. bakugou watches as you fix his shirt over your frame and head to your en-suite bathroom to make yourself more presentable to your kids— mumbling something about how many times katsuki came inside of you.

sure there was a lot of it, but he’d only cum inside you twice and he was trying to give you a baby. again.

the shower turns on and he can hear the sound of water running but it doesn’t cover your sweet voice as you call for him. he could never miss that. “katsuki bakugou, you horny bastard, i love you, my daddy bear!” you sing for him; making the blonde smile.

“i love you more, honey baby,” he chuckles back, tucking himself back into sweats before settling back into the ruined sheets.

bakugou was so luckily to have you and you’re beautiful children— he wouldn’t trade any moment of his life for the world except for maybe more time with you. he swore, he’d spend forever loving you if he could.

“daddy?” sweet thoughts are cut off by the groggy voice of bakugou’s eldest daughter, taiga, who stands in the doorway of his bedroom rubbing her cherry red eyes.

the blonde grins, rising from his place in bed and crossing the room in three short strides. he quickly crouches down in front of his little girl and ruffle her unruly mop of matching blonde hair. “g’morning brat, what’s up?”

taiga clutches her shoto plushy tightly, the one uncle todoroki had gotten her for her first birthday ( the one that bakugou hated because it was his daughter’s favourite— kirishima hated it too because he had always thought he was the favourite uncle ), and pouts down at her father, scowling sleepily. bakugou knows if you could see the two of them now, you’d be saying she was the spitting image of him. “tatsumo woke up n wouldn’t stop whinin’, fink he’s hungry, daddy!” the little girl grumbles, clearly still reeling in the after effects of her sleep that got cut short.

“how about we go get him and make some pancakes then?” katsuki suggests softly, hauling his daughter onto his bare shoulders and being mindful not to drop her stupid fuckin’— i mean her plushy to the ground. “y’gonna help me mix up enough batter for ya ma n’ brother, you got that brat?”

taiga squeals as at the new found height, wrapping a singular chubby arm around bakugou’s head for support, making his heart burst at the tiny hand that grips his chin. fuck, he loved his life. “only if we can add choco chwips, daddy!”

“oi, don’t you push your fuckin’ luck with me brat, ya mommy might let you get away with eatin’ shit like that but not me—“ bakugou makes an attempt to scold his daughter while they make way towards his son’s room, but he already knows he’s going to give into her. he can’t say no to taiga.

“i’ll tell mommy you cursed at me!”

“why you little sh—“

“careful, katsuki, if you keep cursing her out i might have to put you on punishment later,” taiga bursts in to wriggly giggles on bakugou’s shoulders, making it harder to keep her in place as you brush past him to grab tatsumo from the nursery.

“daddy’s gonna get in trouble!”

the teasing tone to your voice lingers in the air while you fetch your son, who seems groggy and pouty when he comes into katsuki’s view— wrapped up in your arms while you wear a cleaner shirt of his. there’s that glint in your eye, similar to the one your children posses when they’re doing something mischievous. and that alone tells the ash blonde he’ll be getting punished in ways that could lead to another little one rushing through your house.

bakugou can roll with that.

but for now; he reaches up and pinches taiga’s nose— telling her to stop running her mouth and sending you into giggles while you carry your children downstairs for breakfast. katsuki bakugou couldnt remember the last time he’d gotten a full nights sleep, but what he did know is that he’d always remember the very saccharine mornings he’d get to spend with you and your beautiful children after.

bonus:

“taiga, did you put chocolate chips in the batter even though i told you no?”

bakugou had turned his back for but a mere second to grab some milk for tatsumo; who played happily with smooshed bits of banana in his high chair— and suddenly, the batter was littered with the offending, tiny pieces of candy.

“no, it was mommy!”

“yn...”

you quickly throw your hands up in the air as defence, dropping the packet of sinful treats to the counter. “what? i’m having cravings, bakugou!”

“you’re not even pregnant, yn!” the man himself raises his spatula at you accusingly with a scowl, biting down on his tongue to prevent himself from cursing again.

you smile up at your husband, knowing he can’t stay mad at you for long. “but i will be, katsuki, it’s the thought that counts.” your eyes flicker up as you wipe the melted chocolate on your finger tips off with your tongue before moving to settle your daughter down for breakfast. bakugou splutters, cheeks flaming with a reddish rose at the thought of your soon to be baby and all the activity that comes with making one which makes you laugh. “oh and lovebug? your pancakes are burning.”

with a jump, katsuki turns to flick off the flame and save his batch of pancakes while you tend to your kids— leaving him to contemplate over your chocolate chip breakfast, how lucky he was to have you.

“i crave chocolate, can i get a pregnant?” taiga squeals shortly after.

“not a chance in hell, brat.”

♡ taglist:

@ozzy-bozzy @bakugous-mamas @meg-mystic @runningon-5percentsleep @cyans-bliss @husband-to-tomura-shigaraki @paintedr0ses1 @69meggg69 @sapphoscolonoscopy @toshidou @saucey-kneecapzz42020 @candybabey @alrunemara @greenchild

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stardusttrashed · 2 years

Text

How they react to you sleeping with a bonnet HC Pt 3 - Mikasa and Levi Ackerman

Day 18 of Ficmas - aot hcs

Ficmas Masterlist

Mikasa

Is probably more serious about you wearing your bonnet than you are. Like it’s when a kid first starts wearing one and has to get constantly reminded and scolded for not wearing it properly.

You laid your head on Mikasa’s chest, listening to the steady, soothing thrum of her heartbeat. You should’ve been listening to her, you could hear her sweet, silky voice as she whispered something to you. She was telling you about the show you begged her to explain to you. You saw her watching it practically every day, hell this was probably her fifth time rewatching it. And you just wanted to be supportive. Wanted to make an effort to know more about her interests. She was always so quick to learn about yours, and yet here you were drifting in and out of sleep.

Her words were muffled, almost completely drowned out by her heartbeat. Between the steady beat filling your ear and her fingers lazily trailing on your back, everything around seemed to grow so fuzzy.

“Y/n?” Mikasa looked down at you laying on her chest. “It’s okay if you’re tired.” You weren’t fooling anyone. Your relaxed, limp body laying over her like a warm weighted blanket. “We can go-.”

“N-no,” you shook your head weakly, only burying yourself further into her chest. “‘M watchin’ this with you, Mika.”

“Right,” she drawled out in an unconvinced tone as a doting smile played with her lips. “You better not be falling asleep.” Her fingers trailed up your back, finding their way to the back of your head.

“M’not, I promise,” you slurred your words sleepily.

“Mhm,” she mused, gently scratching your scalp. “Where’s your bonnet love?” A moment passed with no reply, and then another, and another. “Love? Thought you weren’t falling asleep, huh?” She sat up slowly, moving carefully as she reached out to the coffee table to grab the bonnet she stashed away earlier. “What am I going to do with you?” Mikasa giggled softly to herself as she tucked your hair into the bonnet the best she could without waking you.

“Love you,” you mumbled through your half-sleep state.

“And I’d love you more if you wore your bonnet like you’re supposed to,” Mikasa teased as she draped the blanket over you.

“S’not nice.”

“But I’ll always be with you making sure you do. So, I guess I love you.”

“Whatever you say creeper. Good- ah!” You jolted up with a childish glare as she pinched your side. “Mika!”

“Don’t call me a creeper,” Mikasa muttered as she rubbed the spot she just pinched. “I’m just-.”

“I know,” you cut her off. You leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss on her blushy cheeks. “You’re my great curl protector.” You kissed the tip of her nose. “And that’s one of the reasons I love you.” Before you could move, Mikasa pressed her lips against yours in a clumsy, yet tender kiss. “So, if it makes you feel better I’ll try to get better about wearing this.”

“That’d be nice… they’re cute on you.”

“I’m sure you’d look cute with a bonnet too.” You laid your head on her chest again, “we gotta get you one next time we shop, yeah? But for now, it’s sleepy time. No more pinching, please,” you spoke through your yawn before dozing off, too tired to even wait for a reply.

Levi

Is part of the reason you rarely wear your bonnet. At first, it seems like he’s always tossing it in the wash, but then one day you come home early and catch him wearing it, so now you’re not really sure where your bonnets keep disappearing to.

“Levi Ackerman,” you called out in frustration, your voice echoing through your shared apartment. “What the hell’d you do with my bonnet this time? I know it was you.” You rummaged around in the bathroom for a moment longer before giving up with a defeated and slightly irritated sigh. “Levi,” you called out again when you got no response. He had probably fallen asleep while working in the spare bedroom turned office again. And you wanted nothing more than to do the same, the bed calling to you like a siren.

You dragged yourself out of the bedroom and made your way to his office. Your tired, heavy eyes instantly landed on Levi’s hunched form and the pink silky bonnet that hugged his head. “I hate you sometimes.”

“Sorry, you say something? All I can hear is a brat whining,” Levi said with a smug smirk.

“And all I can see is my thief of a boyfriend,” you shot back with a stifled yawn. “Levi, can I please have my bonnet back so I can go to bed?” You shuffled over to his chair, absentmindedly brushing his hands aside as you plopped into his lap. “S’tired. Some people actually sleep, y’know?”

“Huh,” Levi hummed, allowing you to get comfortable in his lap before going back to work. “Thought that was made up like machines being able to wash dishes.”

“Dishwashers are real,” you giggled, “we literally have one in the kitchen that I… totally didn’t use yesterday.” You shifted in his lap, glancing over your shoulder at the silky material in his hands. “Whatcha doin’ there Bebe.”

“Wondering what kind of monster mon amour is,” Levi replied in a monotone voice. He fought back a smirk as he focused on the material in his hands. It was a miracle he was able to keep holding the needle steady with how hard you hit his arm. “I’m kidding… mostly.”

“Va te faire foutre!”

“Tch. Of all things to say correctly— such a potty mouth. Sois gentil or I won’t give you your gift.” He tied off the thread before cutting the excess. “A bigger bonnet for my big-headed déesse.”

You watched his eyes sparkle with adoration as he tucked your hair into the handmade bonnet. “I’m too tired and you’re being too cute for me to get on ya ass bout that, but know you’re gonna get it tomorrow.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less. There you go,” his lips curled into a small smile as he kissed your forehead. He leaned back in the chair, giving just enough space between you and him so he could admire you. “Tellement mignon,” Levi breathed in awe. “I was thinking about making you more of these sometime- so you won’t have to worry about me doing laundry.”

“Or I could just, y’know, buy more?”

“Tch, just let me be nice for you brat.”

“You can be nice by not taking my bonnets-.”

“Not happening, mon amour. They keep my hair out of my face when I do things.”

"So do hair ties," you mumbled as you curled into his chest. "You're lucky you're cute in 'em, Bebe."

#25 days of ficmas #attack on titan #aot x black reader #aot #aot levi #aot mikasa #mikasa x reader #levi x reader #snk mikasa #snk levi #levi x black reader #mikasa x black reader #mikasa headcanons #levi headcanons

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