#happy birthday to this baby rockstar

[srnileforme]

HAPPY PERTH DAY! 🤘🏻🎸🖤 | MARCH 20, 2001

#perth tanapon #perthppe #*gifs #happy birthday to this baby rockstar #i love him so much #🤘🏻🖤

[sakuhai]

#hyde #hideto takarai #the last rockstars #jrock #vkei #happy birthday to little baby maam #my posts

[belokhvostikova]

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | After five months of no reconciliation with the man whose lifestyle became too much for you to manage, you're met with your ex-boyfriend, the rockstar, after an accident leaves you in the hospital, and you face the realization that Eddie Munson is still your emergency contact.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Swearing, crying, mentions of alcohol consumption, hard drug use, insecurities, minor jealousy, fighting, breakup, brief mention of infidelity (no cheating, though), hospital setting, head injury, concussion, mentions of stitches, mentions of blood, and mentions of seizures.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Y'all, I'm 19! So, as a gift to you (whatever logic that is) here's a fic that takes place around Christmas, so I guess, also a belated Christmas gift. Happy birthday and Merry Christmas! Also, the extent of my knowledge on injuries is purely based on the fact that I took both Health Science I and II in high school, and, well, that's it. So, if anything is inaccurate, NO IT'S NOT (because I said so).

“Will you-” so vividly, you heard his boisterous laughter dense the air sweetly, his face glowing with the ever peaking sunlight that glimmered the sparkling snow outside each time you peered up to his extended height. “It’s like you’re trying to make me fall!” His dramatic accusations were merely met with your fits of giggles, something he so gladly wished to always be met with, as the graze of your cold fingers buzzed his skin with the excitement of what used to be your touch. “Seriously, baby, I can’t finish this if you’re attacking me.” 

But you made no effort to stop, continuing your precise placement of delicate ornaments upon the belt loops of his jeans, the links of his chain, the pockets of his backside, perhaps even one snuggly secured in the threaded rips of his pants. With your boyfriend at your mercy—stuck a couple feet higher atop the fifth step of the ladder to fulfill your dreams of draping green garland to surround your high rise windows—you couldn’t help the ebullient urge to decorate him as you pleased, bringing some loving festivities to the black denim ensemble he regularly sported. 

Effervescent balls of sparkling reds and yellows accompanied the hanging bandana of his back pocket. “You’re like my very own personal Christmas tree!” You beamed upwards, watching a smile that was personal to himself, as he lavished in the innocence this holiday expelled from you. “C’mon,” a fatuous whine that had him chuckling with strings of fake green leaving his hand to secure around the window frame, “have a little spirit!”

And perhaps, that’s all you were trying to have now: spirit.

Because in the blink of an eye, the purity of crystalline, white snow had turned into sludges of watery dirt to meet the once twinkling hues to stringing lights that now simply became the bane of your existence. Because to you, everything embellished itself as a mockery to the happily ever after you now no longer had. 

But it never hurt to try, and yet, trying became the very literal thing that hurt you. 

“…What occurred in the midst of their fourth track, Corroded Coffin’s notable ‘Goliath’s Wrath,’ left fans in a frenzy, when frontma…” Your eyes blurred with exhaustion, attempting to fight back the heaviness of your eyelids that left your vision impaired by spotty shades of blacks and whites. Various pitches of ringing clashing with static voices began provoking that throbbing ache in your head that pounded your brain to mush. “…Information falls scarcely upon accuracy, though there were mentions of a family emergency as to the reaso…” One harsh breath for your dense chest left your nose to be invaded by the artificial, bitterness of antiseptic. All more of a reason for your eyes to screw shut in a brutal endeavor to appease the gnawing of your head. “…Demanding refunds for a set that had to go on without the leading m-”

“You’re up!” Your eyes shot open. His aging skin told stories of his life, crinkling into an abundance of creases that welcomed your startled awakening. “I know things may seem a little scary and confusing here, kid.” Heaving became an understatement when your eyes accepted the burning tiles of white around the room, and suddenly, whatever news outlet that was recounting the upheaval of 90s Hollywood from the tiny television that served its purpose of passing time was becoming drowned out by the abrasive beeping of monitors that clung to your body with tubes. “But just bare with me, alright, everything’s going to be okay.”

Okay? Your body felt cold under the roughness of hospital linen. “I-I…” A reckless try at sitting up left your mouth soaring with an agonizing groan from the pain, your sore body all too weak for the heavy lifting at your head, that suddenly felt the density of a dozen bricks that smashed together. 

“Take it easy, alright.” The older gentleman smiled, urging you to lay back against the flat pillow with his simple gestures. “I know things are a little hazy here, but my name is Dr. Rosenthal, would you be able to tell me yours?” Your brows scowled at the disparaging child-talk the man thirty years your senior was showcasing you. 

With a roll to your eyes—something instantly regretted because of the pain in your head—you dryly croaked. “Y-Y/N.” It was all too bright. God, what would it give to flip off the overhead lights? You never really were a fan of overhead lights, but his excuse of, “we have money now, these lights can stay on,” had a knack for making you giggle. It’d been five months since those overhead lights were ever turned on again. You wondered how often Ed-

“That’s great!” Dr. Rosenthal smiled, and you accepted the scraping scribble of his pen against his papered clipboard to satiate the buzz of your brain. “Tell me, Y/N can you remember anything about how you may have gotten here? Any recollections you may-”

“Where is- is she here?!” You fought the throb of your head to snap into the direction of the door, where Dr. Rosenthal mimicked your concern. In truth, the smell hadn’t been all too great; beads of perspiration coated his body in part with the concoction of spiced cologne and the bitter bourbon he regularly downed before coming face-to-face with thousands in a packed arena. “Y/N- she’s- what, what happe- oh, shit!” Cindy Jaurick had been a renowned makeup artist in Hollywood, but with the dryness of his skin, even she couldn’t conceal the bruising of his sleep-deprived eyes; splotches of alabaster cream became patchy upon his bags that smeared with the waxiness of black liner. 

Eddie Munson, all leather and chains that clashed with his truest self of denims and tees. A facade so greatly curated by the hands of top executives that in a span of three years, millions were acquired to his name. Such a stupid name, you now thought. 

A heavy step forward left his booted foot clanking against the white tiles, a movement too abrasive for your liking, as his incoming hand has you pushing back from his reaching touch. “Excuse me, sir, you need to step back and calm down.” Dr. Rosenthal proclaimed, a man of loyalty to his position, clearly perturbed by any bothersome that came to his patients. 

“I just- what the hell happened, are you okay?!” His jewelry—the real kind, far from the fake silver he once adorned that periodically fused his fingers green, but loved them more than anything—jingled to the admission of his distress, hands harshly raking through the chunks of sweaty hair over the sight of your damaged self. 

An audible clap came with the hit of Dr. Rosenthal’s clipboard to Eddie’s exposed chest, where the buttons of his designer brand had been deliberate to showcase the permanent markings of his tattooed skin. “Sir, unless you are a relative or partner of-”

“Yes! Yes, I’m her boyfriend-”

Your memory hadn’t served you right for the occasions that brought you to the hospital, but you knew enough that Eddie Munson no longer brandished the title of such, given the circumstances that occurred five months ago. “N-No, he’s, um, not… anymore.”

“Then, sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to leave-”

“No, I- do you even know who I am?” Eddie watched your face scrunch with disgust at his language to the doctor, but whatever damage control he attempted fell short on your solidified opinion of a distasteful eye roll against him. “Shit, no- like, I mean you called me. I-I’m her emergency contact! I swear it, I’m Eddie!” 

And you slumped back against your bed. Clear as day, you remembered the cursive handwriting that marked the page with the name and number of your ex-boyfriend. When a year ago, months apart finally came to a halt as Eddie’s touring schedule cleared for the coming holidays. It would suffice to say the bedroom of your quaint Indianapolis townhouse saw little abandonment, with silk sheets becoming imprinted with the weight of your bodies that refused to leave the warmth of each other’s depraved company. In doing so, your judgment became clouded from the usual routine of bathroom care that came after a heated rendezvous. But could you be blamed? Believe it or not, there actually was a time when Eddie’s embrace brought you comfort and peace. What eventually transpired into a run-of-mill UTI had actually worsened quicker than expected. Over-the-counter medication did little to relieve you from the infection, and when your back suddenly began to ache, you knew a trip to St. George's Hospital was in need. With a close call, your kidneys were able to stay intact to your body, and the use of dialysis was spared from your future. And yet, who knew the most haunting occasion of that experience would come with the boyish smile of Eddie Munson, as he watched with lovesick eyes as you entrusted him as the man you’d want in the case of an emergency.

My god, how times have changed… 

“Um, yeah, yeah, he is.” You swallowed the dryness of your throat, hoping the commotion of everything would finally settle to alleviate the stress of your head. 

“Well, Ms. Y/L/N, it’s up to you if you’d like him here.” Dr. Rosenthal sighed, a harsh click to his pen that surely cemented his dislike for the gaudy man upon him. “Your neighbor has already left, but I can assure you that the nurses will make frequent routines to keep you in care.”

Neighbor? “I- um, Trevor?” Your head spun with the lack thereof details that painfully tried to piece themselves together. 

Eddie's hair flew with the snap of his head to your doctor, as his scowl silently demanded the explanation you both were desperate to hear. Dr. Rosenthal cleared his throat. “Ms. Y/L/N, you took quite the fall off a ladder in your home. After a while, your neighbor had found you, and did the deed of bringing you over. He mentioned you had borrowed his ladder to put up-”

“Christmas decorations.” What a wonderful feeling it was to have the epiphany that was as simple as regained memory. Where you no longer had a boyfriend to gladly bear the brunt work of Christmas decorations for your sole enjoyment, you now had to dish out yourself. Unloading dusty boxes had usually accompanied a teasing compliment to the muscles that bulged from his arms, though now, your back felt the strain of heavy lifting, because you refused to properly use your legs. “Um, y-yeah, I remember- well, I don’t remember falling, but, uh, I used Trevor’s ladder for the, um, y’know, what do you call them? The green, leaf stringy-”

“Garlands?” Dr. Rosenthal and Eddie spoke simultaneously.

And you perked up as best as your body would allow. “Yeah, garlands!” Your voice excitedly croaked. “You, uh, y-you remember?” For once, in five months, you actually acknowledged him. Eddie. “I-I like those garlands around our- my windows.”

He remembered. Your giggles ringing in his ears like magical sleigh bells. Your touch warming his skin against the burning cold. Your eyes twinkling over the simplicity of green garlands… something he couldn’t even provide you with now.

“That’s good.” Dr. Rosenthal smiled. “You’re recalling events and… history,” he pursed his lips against Eddie’s cold demeanor, “wonderfully. It’s a good sign of minimal memory loss, which falls quite commonly against those in situations as yours. When you fell, Ms. Y/L/N, your neighbor had informed us of a seizure-”

“Seizure?!” Eddie spat.

“Yes, seizure; fifteen seconds.” He clarified. “And with that, an immediate grade II concussion. We ran a necessary EEG and CT scan prior to your waking, as such classification can offer some findings. Fortunately, all we saw was the inevitable stretching of your neurons which caused a burst of electrical impulses in your brain explaining the seizure. Checking for any fracturing of the skull, or swelling, and bleeding, and you were quite lucky. Completely cleared.” His smile broke through his wrinkled face. “Though, you were brought in with quite the gash on the left side of your head, right between the parietal and occipital bone. Nothing too extreme on the severity scale, but in order to stop the bleeding we did have to repair the tissue damage with stitching.” A vapid explanation of the overly tight gauze that somehow felt like a ton of bricks around your cranium. “But other than that, your vitals are excellent.” Check, check, check off his clipboard. “It’s very likely you’ll continue experiencing a headache, perhaps some nausea, or dizziness. I do recommend an overnight stay to ensure secondary swelling doesn’t occur, and to guarantee your memory continues to function properly. But a morning discharge should be fine.”

A deep breath allowed your head to nod along. “Yeah, um, thank you… really.” You earnestly smiled.

But where you could muster a staid beam of politeness, Eddie Munson gleamed a smile so faux, even Dr. Rosenthal piqued him with a scowl—though miniscule for his professional aptitude. The heavy click of the door closing behind Dr. Rosenthal granted the heaviest breath to escape from Eddie before his attention scrutinized you. 

“What the hell were you thinkin’?!” He ambushed. Seriously, he knew you for seven years. Seven years of his fucking life, and not once had you ever dared to lift a finger for manual labor. Okay, call him old fashioned, but that’s exactly what he liked about you; you know, the whole damsel in distress that needed him whenever something fell loose or broken. That’s it, just the need for him. The need to want him around. “I-I mean, seriously, you- why couldn’t you just call me- or, or, like, Steve, or someone, so you wouldn’t get hurt?” Okay, so maybe calling him wouldn’t have been your first option. If the fact of being no contact for five months wasn’t enough, surely living across the country would have ruled him out. You stopped keeping up with his whereabouts weeks ago. But that wouldn’t stop him. It was you, for Christ sake! You wanted your garlands, Eddie would have given you your garlands. No matter the lack of communication. No matter the distance.

Eddie Munson would have given you everything. 

You dryly blinked. Twice. If only he felt like that when you both were still together. “Get out.” 

“Okay, no- wait, I’m not trying to blame you-”

“Really? Because that’s exactly what you’re doing. Get out!” Your tired voice tried to muster. 

“No, sweetheart, c’mon, I-I know- I just worded it wrong, okay? Please, I just- I don’t know why you would try to do something that would get you hurt like that. You could have, I don’t know, asked for help, like called me up, I promise I would have answered to help you-”

Your eyes rolled against his sentiment. “What, so I’m just too dimwitted to use a couple of tools?!”

“Well, you did fall.” By your stare, Eddie Munson had two seconds to live. “N-No, I didn’t say that- I, look, I just wish you would have called or someth-”

“And I wish you would just get out!” But your rash endeavor to sit up and shove him away legitimized the pitiless reality of your gnawing head hazing your vision and dismantling your balance, forcing Eddie to rush to your assistance. 

“I- okay, I’ll shut up, just lay back, relax, please, sweetheart. I don’t want you hurting yourself more.” 

“I’m fine.” You gritted. 

“There’s a chunk of your head missing.” Eddie retaliated with a deadpan so infuriating mocking.

A huff of disbelief rippled from your dry lips. “Dr. Rosenthal just said it was no big deal.”

“Like I care what that old fuck has to say.” Your scolding eyes ripped him a new one. “Okay, geez, didn’t know you two were such close friends.”

With no energy to fight back, you permitted his touch to push you back against stiff pillows, where his ink-engraved hands worked swiftly to cover your frail body from the harsh chills of the hospital air conditioning. “I’ll be quiet, promise.” He whispered, adhering to his words, as he silently watched you close your eyes away from him, now that his presence has garnered a throbbing headache. 

By the seventh beep, you no longer found interest in counting the indications of your working monitors. But where your mind lost the simple activity, you also gained attention to the whirring voices of the television. Sat by your side on the hardened chair, Eddie’s tapping toes forced your eyes to tear back-in-forth from his stance to the static colors of live footage coverage. 

“Man, all I hope is for a refund!” Drunk out of his mind, as the lights of cameras began emphasizing the drugged redness of the young man’s eyes. “Like, seriously, we’re all here for The Freak, and for him to just run off like that, dude, we paid for a Corroded Coffin show, and we’re gonna get it, or else we want our money back!”

A pan to the well-dressed reporter stocked drastically to the metalheads on scene. “Well, you heard it here first, folks. As we wait for more updates on the events that occurred that left Eddie Munson running off stage to what would have been his biggest performance in his home state, fans are pressuring for a refu-”

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere right now?” Eddie's head pulled itself from his intense stare that followed the grout of the tiled floors. 

“Huh?” His gaze followed yours which briefly led to the boxed television that delivered MTV’s insistent need to showcase a replay of Eddie “The Freak” Munson, lead guitarist and singer of Corroded Coffin, running off stage in the midst of their newest single, ‘Goliath’s Wrath.’ “Oh, um,” his hand waved you off, “my team will rip me a new one later, it’s fine.” 

You sighed. “And just for the record, I am self aware, so I did have someone there to help me.” You muttered, leaving his brows to furrow. “Trevor?” 

“Oh.” Eddie’s lips maneuvered awkwardly. “Trevor, right.” Knee bouncing, fingers tapping, Eddie knew he should have kept his mouth shut, but the question burned his mind for too long not to suddenly blurt out. “So what, are you seeing him or something?” And perhaps he should have kept his mouth shut, given the death glare you killed him with that had him reeling back his words. “I- sorry.” 

“Trevor has a girlfriend. And a ladder.” You scoffed. “And you of all people cannot be talking.”

Three weeks post the headlines that announced the separation between rockstar, Eddie Munson, and his longtime girlfriend, new reports were eager to air Hollywood’s newest romance between the amoral and Playboy’s finest, Lindsey Sawyer. To say you cried for weeks was quite the understatement, when your body physically impaired you from leaving the shielding comfort of your bed. While you rotted, Eddie danced on the grave of your love with his new girlfriend, whose six inch stilettos pierced your bludgeoned heart. Granted, it lasted nothing but a couple days, though it didn’t stop from the new pattern of recurrence in which Eddie found Hollywood’s new recycled “it” girl to accompany the image of a rager rockstar. Gisele Camarella, Pam Densely, Yvonne Huntsford; a new name, face, and body to compare yourself to. 

“I-” his shame flooded his cheeks crimsen, “those were never real- not, like- not like you, not you and me real. Just what management thought looked best.” Though, his quiet admission did nothing to soothe over painful memories. “I’m sorry.” Three scrapes of wooden legs scratching against white tiles was all it took to have Eddie Munson sitting by your side. “How do you feel?” His eyes fervently raked your face. “Honestly.”

“My head hurts.”

“About seeing me?” He clarified. 

Silence crept up in a suffocating manner, as Eddie watched your stoic lines revise his being. “I don’t like seeing your face anymore, Eddie.” How were you able to speak those words so calmly? Eddie’s throat choked him with unbearable bitterness that burned his insides. “You look stupid. You used to never look stupid.” 

Eddie Munson had a haunting past of failures; D’s and F’s marked such a bloody red over white papers, tainting any scribble of hard work he, at least, attempted at times. And what followed failed tests and quizzes only came with the taunting laughter of jocks and cheerleaders, jeering their distaste for his “kind” that branded his leather and denim as the epitome of all things they deemed nauseating. For a while, Eddie Munson believed himself to be nothing but stupid. The grades and reputation being all the evidence needed to solidify his self worth to him. Every compliment to your intelligence he gave you knew came with an underlying insecurity within him. Because you were smart, so smart. What was a smart girl like you doing with a stupid guy like him? 

So, yeah, your words hurt. As they intended to. 

Eddie’s eyes dropped with shame, his Adam’s apple following suit with a thick bobbing gulp of guilt. His eyes casted upon his tight leather jeans that felt insufferable under a building layer of sweat; too much eyeliner, at times clouding his vision from the very fans he loved seeing; sheer shirts waving in a draft of uncomfortableness, forcing him to long for prized t-shirts that gave him the movement to be him on stage; and a god awful personality detailed so preciously by management to make his name a headliner’s favorite. 

Yeah, Eddie Munson looked so fucking stupid. 

“I-I don’t like ‘em.” He stammered. 

“You used to.” 

-

July once brought Los Angeles, California a blistering heat. You hate heat.

Five months ago. 

“No, no, no, he’s full of shit, I was the one who came up with ‘Goliath’s Wrath!’” The cigar browning of Gareth Emerson’s scotch dribbled his lips wet with his drunken blubber, as men surrounding—all big money and titles alike—huffed out laughter worth millions to the men that provided them such wealth. 

Eddie’s nose burned with the ecstasy of white powder, dusting his beautiful features with the hedonism of all glory and power… for once, right in his hands. “Oh, fuck off, you were passed out drunk laying in your own piss when we wrote that god awful fucking song!” He laughed, joining in on the obnoxious cacophony of guffaws that held no sense of reality. 

A shoulder knocked into his. Greased slicked hair, gold rings, and a suit worth your car payment; Iverson Green. And Eddie had no fucking clue what he did. “You really don’t like the upcoming song?” He whispered.

And Eddie would never know. Information as such mattered little, as long as the man helped pay his check. “These braindeads approve of all this rock shit for the image.” Eddie bit back. “If I had it my way, I’d show ‘em real metal.” He smiled. 

A blood red stiletto acrylic stabbed at his shoulder before a cloud of Chanel °5 invaded his itching nose. “Got you booked.” She spoke, her breath tickling his ear over the sheer closeness needed over the vibrating base of stereos. 

Eddie turned his head to see her, a smiling Judy Carawan that had him beaming right back. “For what this time? I’m not doing some late night news bullshit again.” After the way Larry Parsons of Hollywood’s Friday Nights called out his delinquent behavior, executives were buzzing for another clash between Eddie “The Freak” Munson and talk show hosts to get the papers running. 

“Hilfiger.” Judy leaned in, a smirk of confidence for her work truly accomplished. “A fitting, then you wear one of his suits to the VMA’s, and that’s cash in your pockets. And mine.” 

Eddie’s face glowered with disgust, as he attempted to move away, her smell becoming too strong for his liking. “Save me a line.” He instructed to the man breaking rows of snow on the mahogany table. “Fuck no, I’m not wearing some posh-y model shit in front of the fucking cameras.”

“It’ll be one time, and a check worth a lifetime.” She rolled her eyes, a habitual stance against the troubles that came with personally assisting Eddie Munson. “Also, see.” Her slender finger pointed to the lengthy body of Cierra Kalahi, perched against the marbling chimney of your Hollywood Hills home. “Miss America’s Next Top Model will be wearing Hilfiger, too. You and some Shalom Harlow wannabe wearing the same designer is just enough to spark some attraction to your name.”

Eddie knew the venomous implications of her suggestion. “I’m not playin’ into your bullshit dating rumors.” A vicious cycle you two had to go through; you hurting more than the other, though. 

“Okay, fine, then we get your pretty, little girlfriend to wear a matching dress… that is if she’ll stop being a bummer.” 

“Don’t fucking do that, alright?” Eddie huffed, dragging his sweaty hands down the heat of his cheeks. His eyes felt like they were going to crack out of his skull from the dryness of being opened for the past forty-three hours. But the umpteenth swig of Old Fashioned was fueling him alongside the unstoppable fuel of crystalline cocaine. “She just- I- look, I’m not putting her out there where she doesn’t want to go. S-She’s too good- she’s too good for the cameras.” 

“She’s not good for your career.” Eddie felt her words echo into a repeated ringtone that irritated his ears. His vision grew blurred with his impulsive movements against her face. 

His hot, alcoholic breath fanned her bangs with each huff of his chest. “Remember who pays your fucking bills!” Nothing but the voices of Mötley Crüe tormented the background, as everyone but the music quieted to bask in the events of another Eddie Munson meltdown. “You say one more fucking word about her, and I’ll leave you to the fucking street.”

Judy Carawan cinched her eyes against his lost ones. Whatever bad boy facade he drugged himself into every night never scared her. Hell, she fed into it. “Eddie, I’m going to be quite frank with you, since no one else will be. You and your goody girlfriend will never last. If she truly cared for you like she says she does, she would do anything to keep your name in the spotlight. And if you truly cared for her like you say you do, you wouldn’t be snorting snow on your fucking anniversary.” Eddie's hardened muscles fell from realization. And Judy smiled such a sick smile. “And FYI, I was someone before you.” Eight years of work with Hollywood’s hottest clientele. “Can you say the same?”

Your lip wobbled under the harsh bite of your teeth to suppress the stinging tears from an embarrassing downpour. Despite his promises of a private evening, you braced your arms over your chest, where it became exposed from the strapless dress you uncomfortably endured, after too many magazine headlines criticized your lack of “looks” for the hottest rockstar in town. You’d never admit it, always brushing him off whenever he became concerned for your well being because of the tabloids, but he always noticed the subtle changes you made to look like the women in the city that felt like another plant from olde Indiana. 

And now, unwarranted flashes of cameras settled outside the Michelin Star restaurant that burrowed burdening humiliation into your skin, as a cautious peer around the setting allowed you to notice the pitying and gossip of the goers around you. 

Every minute that passed, you gave him the benefit of the doubt. But an hour and fifteen minutes just prevailed you to be a doormat. But could you be blamed? Seven years ago today, you ran into the man, himself, who turned the dreaded day of Hawkin’s High open house into a new adventure. Where you had the excuse of an actively involved mother, who became adamant on touring the unknown environment of the orange and green halls after your father’s relocation to the rural town, Eddie had an intransigent uncle who refused to watch his nephew lose another year of his life to failing high school, and imposed the young man to abide by the staff’s fake smiles, as they greeted parents and students for the coming school year. 

It’s funny how one sullen face can find another in a crowd of PTA parents and their goody-two-shoe children alike. Meeting eyes and a devilish smirk on his face was all it took for two strangers to find trust in one another, and sneak away in the depths of bushy, green woods. In retrospect, asking Eddie Munson to be your boyfriend after only three hours of knowing him was quite rash—he, himself, was quite taken aback, as well—but the worst that could happen was it didn’t work out. I mean, what high school relationship ever does? But his informative trek across lush grass, a shared cigarette, and talks that had your stomach cramping from fits of giggles was enough to solidify your decision at heart. And who was Eddie Munson to ever say no to a pretty face and soul like yours. 

And it worked out… surprisingly. 

It was quite the experience learning the ins and outs of someone you already called your boyfriend, but the pureness of it all bloomed into the most innocent love of two people navigating the world and finding themselves together. 

But suddenly, the world had a place in your relationship. The people had a say. In what you wore, what you looked like, who you had to be. And he allowed it. Allowed everyone to measle their way in. After the first promise to you that nothing would change, every single one to follow became a lie. 

Because he changed. 

You mustered the will to sniffle away any tears. He no longer became worth it to you. And it broke your heart. Your heels clicked their way out of the restaurant, where your being was blurred under the paralyzing flashes of people who invaded your life, capturing and exploiting your lowest moment for a check, and branding you the girl that held the greatest rockstar back.

Eddie stumbled back on wobbly feet, his mind too disorientated to care about the bodies he shoved that consequently left glasses of cocktails to shatter against the polished flooring of his home. Though, nothing mattered as long as he got to the door. But your crying self had beat him to it from the other side, swinging the grand doors that were always too heavy for your liking, and entering your home that was invaded by strangers and their substances, and Eddie… your Eddie standing in the middle of it all. 

His red, beclouded eyes had disallowed him the privilege of blinking your beauty straight, but through the haze of blear lines, he saw your face so clearly fall from disappointment.

From pure defeat. 

“W-Wait!” Eddie fought the incoordination of his legs to follow you outside, leaving his guest to watch in awe. “Baby, I- fuck! I-I’m sorry- ugh, I just- I forgot!”

Los Angeles’ humidity suffocated his airways that were already constricting from his sobbing chokes. His insides burned from the concoction of drugs and sweltering heat that only fueled at the sight of your broken face. “You forgot?!” You cried, swinging your body around to face the man you no longer recognized. “For the past seven years you’ve never forgotten, but now you do! What, is it no longer important for you?!”

Spit blubbered with his words, as his lips moved a mile a minute to keep your love preserved. “N-No, I mean- yes, of course, it’s i-important-” 

“Then why weren’t you there?!” Mascara stained the softness of your cheeks, now too darkened for Eddie to ever kiss the pain away. “Why aren’t you ever there?! For me!”

“I-It wasn’t my fault.” He heaved. “J-Jude, she-she said this s-stupid thing was scheduled, and-and she said it’d be quick-”

“Of course, it’s never your fault!” You bit back with the deflation of your arms. “It’s always the alcohol, or the drugs, or Judy, but it can never be your fault, can it, Eddie?!” His fist balled into his eyes, as snot caved down his nose. 

“N-No, it is my fault! I’m sorry, Y/N- I’ll fix it! I’ll do anything, I’ll make it up to you, I swear!”

“Don’t you get it?!” You marched up to his wrecked body. “Your promises mean nothing to me anymore!”

“Don’t, please!” Eddie sobbed. Shameful embarrassment ate him alive in the middle of your Hollywood Hills driveway. “I-I’ll stop all this, th-the drugs,” his arm smeared away the remnants of snot and cocaine against his nose, “the drinking, partying, everything, I mean it!” Because something deep within Eddie Munson knew this was the last straw.

You were done.

“Stop lying to me!” Your eyes stung with tears. “Why are you so comfortable lying to me, and h-hurting me?!” His head adamantly refused your words with a harsh shake to his head, but the history of abandonment that brought you to your wits end weighed more than his inebriated actions. “You touch me and it feels like a lie. You k-kiss me and it feels like a lie. E-Everything you do has become bullshit, Eddie! I don’t trust you. I-I just worry. Worried that anytime you’re not next to me you’ve drugged yourself dead, or-or knocked out somewhere, or… with women-”

“Don’t fucking say that! I’d never do something like that to you!”

“The Eddie I knew would never leave me to snort coke with strangers, but here we are!” You bawled in retaliation, forcing his mouth quiet in disbelief. “You’re not Eddie anymore! So, don’t stand here and tell me you wouldn’t do these things, when everything you do leads me to believe you are capable of doing something like that… something to hurt me! Because you do, Eddie! You hurt me.”

“I’m so fucking sorry! Please, Y/N, baby, I fucking love you, everything’s just been too much, a-and I forget things, I’ll be better!” You scoffed at his utter patheticism that grossed you out, turning your heel, but his large hand caught a tightening grip to your wrist. “No, I’m serious, sweetheart, I’ll change! I-I’m still Eddie!”

“Get off.” You quietly pleaded, exhausted from the sobs that wrecked your body. 

“Y-You can’t leave me, Y/N, no, I-I need you.” He choked. “I love you. So much. With everything in me. Please. We don’t do this to each other!”

“Then why do you keep doing this to me?!”

“Darling, Ms. Y/L/N?” Yours and Eddie’s head parted to the soft voice of Debby Weiser. Nearly a year ago, your elderly neighbor—who came into stardom in the 50s for her acts that revolutionized the spreading use of colored television—welcomed you into the gated neighborhood with a gluten-free muffin basket that had tasted like pure shit. But the kindness of her effort garnered a budding friendship with the mature woman who offered her wisdom on enduring Hollywood’s notoriety. “You alright there, sweetie?” Her southern accent never had assimilated to the Valley. 

“Yeah, I’m okay.” You turned to his eyes, staring down the saddened roundness that no longer held the precious life they once used to. “I was just leaving.”

That night, you left to your shared Indianapolis townhouse that became your starter home when Eddie’s career was first taking off. You were so happy then. 

And he hadn’t seen you since. 

Until now.

-

Eddie Munson had fallen quiet. 

Everything had, in fact.

The constant beeping of your medical instruments drove him to madness, but he figured the insanity was substantial punishment for the hurt he caused you. He’d been suffering for five months already, what’s a couple more minutes? If anything, he’d be suffering for the rest of his life should it continue without you. 

But it didn’t have to. 

Eddie knew he had no right to gain your love once more, and the vulnerability of your state worsened the situation tenfold, but there was a reason Eddie received that call. A reason why his heart sank amidst a phone call that identified your beautiful name in an emergency, that left him dropping everything in front of thousands that cheered his name. Whatever cynicism that tainted his heart had long left upon your sweet arrival; a ‘thank you’ filled with such gratitude towards his uncle, when Eddie busted into the trailer with a smile too large to be because of Hawkins High’s yearly open house. Wayne Munson had never asked, mostly due to the fact that his nephew locked himself in his bedroom, where the nineteen-year-old worked endlessly for his new upcoming Dungeons and Dragons campaign that followed the grounds of fate and destiny. 

In the mere three hours of your presence, you gave Eddie Munson hope.

He’d be damned not to devote his eternal life to you. 

“Y/N, I…” his eyes laid low, examining the threads of linen that covered you, as his fingers twiddled with his rings to appease the constant bounce of his anxious knee. “I need you to know how terribly sorry I am for everything I did. All the times I hurt you.” He sighed, as his teeth sunk into his bottom lip. “I- uh, I just really need you to understand that everything that happened to us was not your fault. At all. You-” his breath shook with a tremble, “You really were so fucking perfect during everything. So patience, so communicative, and I-I never listened to you the way you deserved, I just- I don’t know, I thought maybe-maybe if I gave it my all to this career, I could finally give you everything you deserve.”

His eyes attempted to blink away searing tears, but his emotions were getting the better of him. “A-And I know how fucking selfish that is, I had- fuck, I had no right to assume what you wanted from me, and-and put you in a position where you had to go through all my bullshit, all because I thought that in the end it would make you happy… without even speaking to you about it.” Eddie's voice cracked with a harsh sniffle to gather his strength. 

“I-I’m getting clean, um, it’s been really fucking hard, but I-I got the boys s-setting me straight everyday. Especially after I practically tortured them with my cries after you left.” His pity laughter softly broke through. “B-But yeah, sweetheart, I-I’m doing pretty good for myself- well, tryin’ to, at least. Still kinda always, constantly, forever feel like shit,” Eddie chuckled, “but I’m managing. T-The drugs n’ everything flushed n’ all, n-now just trying to hold off the booze, y’know? But fuckin’ hell does a beer get me through it.”

A smile began etching upon his face, where the history of all the laughter you provided him with creased his face with the lines of joy that only truly showcased in your presence. “Talked to our manager, he sure as hell was pissed when I insisted on getting rid of Jude. And she sure as hell went out with a bang, and smeared by name to the tabloids, but, uh, you probably already read about that- or not, I don’t, like, expect you to keep up with me or anything, honestly I kinda hope you didn’t, because, well, those first couple of weeks after everything real-really, uh… brought the worst out.” A deep breath escaped his mouth, as his fingers dug into the temples of his head to alleviate the dull pain. 

“I-I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m really… trying.” Eddie swallowed thickly. “F-For my fans, the boys, myself, a-and you, Y/N. And I c-can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am for taking, y’know, taking this long t-to get better, and for not trying better before, for having to h-hurt you just to learn, I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N. A-And I’m not askin’ for a second chance- well, I know I don’t deserve one, not now or-or ever if you feel like it, I just need you to know I’m Eddie, somewhere inside- I’m working really hard on just being me- oh, but, of course, I do want to be with you. T-That wasn’t me saying I didn’t. I do, I-I always wanna be with you, I just- I, okay, I’ll shut up now.”

The deliberation was excruciating. 

The process of his words that rambled on for an eternity was too much to process, especially with a head injury, and he understood that to the fullest, but the quietness was becoming deafening, as he waited for your words… your rejection… your reciprocation. 

Anything.

And he couldn’t dare look you in the eyes, the ones that pierced his soul so deeply, and he desperately urged you to say something. Anything!

“Y/N?” Beep. Beep. Beep. “Sweetheart…?” His eyes fluttered forward. “Jesus H. Christ, Y/N!” Your peaceful sleep had garnered a frightful reaction from Eddie, as he jumped to his feet to urgently caress your face awake. Of course, when doing so, your eyes tiredly awoke to his face all too close for your liking, and a frown broke your face, as you attempted to move from him. 

“Christ, Eddie.” You debilitatingly rasped. “What are you doing?”

“Me?! What are you doing? Are you okay? You shouldn’t be going to sleep, you have a concussion! I-Isn’t that, like, something you shouldn’t do?!” He cupped your face straight to the blinding ceiling light, that had you mewling with annoyance. 

“Eddie, I can remember Reagan’s speech, and the fall of the Berlin Wall.” You dragged, prying his concerned hands off your face. “I think I’ll be just fine going to sleep. God, did you just expect me to stay up all night?”

A shuddering breath left his strangling throat, as his hands flexed at the electricity of the touch of your skin. His body tensed, as his round eyes worriedly followed the contours of features. “You didn’t- did you hear me, like, anything that I just said? B-Before you- I woke you up?” 

Your brows concave with a furrow of confusion, as you peered up at him through wispy lashes. “What’d you say?”

A deep sigh left his dry lips, as he flashed you a small smile filled with sincerity. “Don’t worry about it, okay? It was nothing.” His hands gently worked to cover your body further with blankets to keep you warm, as your suspicious stare hesitantly nodded in acceptance to his words. “Y-You hungry, or-or need more blankets? Painkillers, anything?”

You delicately rejected his help with a shake of your head. “Just tired.” You softly answered. “And you should probably leave, too. Get some sleep.”

Despite his mind refusing your proposal, he knew your rest was vital for recovery, and he watched you slowly turn your back to him, as his slow steps marked his way to the door. So lonely, he gazed at your tired body curl up into itself like it once did when his presence was actually yearned by you; all safety once found in his embrace, as he promised to never let go. And though he never did, his actions forced you to let go, as he now had to bear witness to seeing you become content with yourself. Something he could never imagine doing so. 

His finger flipped the switch. You never were a fan of the overhead lights. And once so, a peaceful sigh buried its way from your parted lips, as your mind rested in tranquil darkness. 

Eddie’s hand wrapped around the doorknob that allowed the hallway light to bleed in. But his eyes couldn’t dare leave you once more. Five months of deprivation killed him every passing day, and one glimpse of your beaten self made him feel like an addict breaking their withdrawal. There was once a time in which he was beckoned with the devastating occurrence of you leaving him no choice but to watch you walk away. Now, he had an opportunity. A chance. To walk away. Or stay. Leaving you alone, hurting, in a cold, empty hospital room was too heartbreaking of an option to ever endure, and he was vowing to his words of never hurting you again. 

He gently closed the door with no intent to deceive you, but rather care for you. Right now, what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you. And his mind felt at peace knowing he could watch over you; his heart dissipating to the rhythm of calmness only you could bring him to. His quiet steps guided him back to the stiff chair that numbed his bottom and stabbed at his back. But it all became worth it, finally seeing you at peace, after the last weeks he ever got to see you your face had been permanently etched in distress, because of him. 

Despite being awake for nearly twenty-two hours now, Eddie Munson spared a couple more just to look at you.

The morning to follow, Dr. Rosenthal had commented greatly on the normalcy of your brain. And Eddie felt envious. You could take thirty more blows to the head, and your brain would still function far better than his ever could. You, unfortunately, had no chance to question his lingering presence, since your body had been awakened by the prodding of a nurse who kindly checked if your vitals were up to par. You figured you’d save her the awkwardness of interrogating your ex-boyfriend, the rockstar.

“If necessary, just some acetaminophen of your choice once every four to six hours depending on the instructions. But if your pain seems to not be improving, I’ll surely write you a prescription for a triptan, whichever one we can work out best for you.” You nodded along, subtly watching Eddie in the corner of your eye, who was listening too intently for someone who was bound to leave in a couple minutes. “And for your stitches, twice a day, remove the old coverage, clean off, and apply a new gauze. After a while, you should be okay with doing it once, and by the two, two and half week mark, I’ll have a referral to remove them when the time comes.” You sighed, taking a minute to let your head process the instructions of the older gentleman before you. “Alrighty, any questions?”

“No, really, you’ve been so helpful with everything-”

“She can’t drive, right?” Eddie butted in. 

Dr. Rosenthal took a long second to peer at him, before clearing his throat. “Wouldn’t recommend it under your symptoms. Nausea and dizziness can impair your ability, so we can call someone, arrange transp-”

“I already got that covered.” Eddie spat a smirk back in retaliation. 

“As long as it’s okay with you.” Dr. Rosenthal sympathetically smiled at you.

You drew out a defeated sigh, and watched Eddie react like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Fine.” You begrudged. 

“Alright then, you go ahead and take the time needed to gather your things, and you can check out at the front desk.” Your trusted doctor assured you. “Call me if you have any questions or concerns, and I’ll gladly help. You have a Merry Christmas, Ms. Y/L/N.” Eddie was spared from a polite holiday goodbye. 

You gently smiled. “Thank you, have a Merry Christmas, as well.” 

With a click of the door behind him, Eddie was quick to let out a breath of relief, as though Dr. Rosenthal lifted a burden off his shoulders. His hasty movements brought your bag of clothes from beneath your hospital bed to plop against your legs. “These yours?” He pried the drawstrings open. 

“No, they’re the lady’s who gave birth before this became my room.” Eddie deadpanned, continuing to rummage through your belongings.

He snorted. “Psh, no pregnant lady would wear an Anthrax tee.” Something that very much still belonged to him, as he threw your t-shirt to your chest. 

“Did you stay here after I told you not to?” Your eyes glared in a deadly squint that challenged his snarkiness. 

“N-No.” A big, fat lie. His gaze was avoidant of yours, as his hands worked hurriedly to empty the bag of your pants… a brown flannel… your right Reebok… then the left, of course… an earring that stabbed him… the other that didn’t, because he learned his lesson… and some pretty, pretty pink panti-

“Stop looking at those!” You snatched the lacy material from his hands, as he threw his arms up in defense. “And if you didn’t stay, why are you still wearing the same clothes?” You prodded further. 

“Oh, my god, I didn’t stay.” He huffed. And you hated the portion of your heart that allowed his words to hurt you, because how come he didn’t stay? “Just headed back to the hotel, took a nap, and came back here early.”

You allowed your hurt to bite back. “That’s gross, you smell.” But he’ll permit your chastising insults if it meant you wouldn’t be angry at him for going against your wishes. 

“Can you just hurry up and change, so I can take you home.” He rolled his eyes. “I arranged a car to have us picked up, and take you home.” 

“I hope you know how pretentious that sounds.” And Eddie Munson stared and stared, as you balled your clothes into the sanctity of your lap. “Well, don’t look, turn around.”

Eddie’s mouth gaped, laughing in disbelief. “Please, sweetheart, I’ve been staring at you naked for the past seven years of my life.”

“You know what? Just for that, you can go to the bathroom and wait, until I say so.” You smiled, so pleased to watch Eddie scoff incredulously. 

Eddie turned on his heels with an exhale of exasperation to match, as he strutted his way into the tiny bathroom. “Can just close my eyes, and picture you naked.” Luckily with his back turned, he wouldn’t dare notice the small smile that cracked your face. 

Eddie’s mind had been buzzing with thoughts for the entire forty-five minutes it took for the chauffeur to pull up and parallel park in front of your townhouse. Like clockwork, your brow arched upon seeing the movements that followed yours: Eddie clicking his seatbelt. “Look, don’t give me that look, I already know what you’re about to say, but please, just let me come in, and help you.” You huffed, letting your eyes bounce from the window to his face that was hardened with determination. “C’mon, let me make it up to you this one time.”

Another defeated ‘fine’ was murmured under your breath, as Eddie made the quick trip to help you out of the car. “Just head back, man, I’ll call you when I need to.” Numerous bills were discreetly slid into the hands of the driver, before he took his cue to leave the neighborhood. 

“Hey, Y/N!” The blizzarding winter left the precisely planted trees along the sidewalk to lose their green shrubbery; your one shield from the sun that still blazed its light down the Demember wind. But through the glares, you matched that voice to the friendly neighbor who lent you his ladder… and subsequently took you to the hospital once you fell off. 

“Oh, hi, Trevor!” You waved to him from atop of his stairs, as you caught sight of the reusable bags of groceries in his hand. 

“Hm, Trevor.” Eddie hummed quietly beside you. 

Despite the cold, he took the needed steps down to speak to you at a volume that didn’t require yelling. “Hey, I’m sorry for leaving you at the hospital so suddenly, Andreas’ car broke down when she tried to leave from work, and I had to go help her-”

“Oh, please, don’t worry about it, it’s okay!” You reassured him from any guilt. “Seriously, I was out for most of my time there, and you already helped so much with bringing me there.”

“Yeah, and I was going to head back to check on you, but they told me your partner-”

“Yeah, me! Y’know…” Eddie interjected with a wave, as you suppressed the roll from your eye, watching him proudly identify himself as such with an eager point of his finger. 

“Yeah, hey, Eddie, been a long time since I’ve seen ya, man-”

“Oh, Y/N! Trevor told me all about you!” Andreas' voice echoed from the front door, as her robe clung closely to her body in an effort to house any warmth she could. “How are you feeling? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, nothing to worry about, just a couple stitches and a concussion.” As polite as they were, your flannel was only doing so much to shield you from the cold, which was already in hand causing that throb to return from the sharp blinding of the sun. Why wouldn’t they shut up?

Eddie watched the twitch of your eye succumb to your expression. If anything from the last seven years taught him anything, it was that you were two sentences away from a fully engraved scowl chiseling your face; always so unaware of how blatant your emotions showcased. “Speaking of which, I should probably go get her to lay down, and rest!” Eddie smiled, as he took your hand up the stairs to your front door. 

“Of course, no problem.” Trevor kindly smiled. “And, hey, keep my ladder as long as you need, don’t worry about it.” 

An exchange of ‘thank you’s’ finally allowed your neighbor to leave you be, as the key slid into the lock of your door. “That was Andrea, his girlfriend. Are you gonna be jealous if I speak to her, too?”

His laughter warmed the chilled air that smoked his breath. “Fuck off, sweetheart.”

Your house had been all but welcoming upon the first steps. A puddle of blood had stained your wooden floor with the injuries of your head, as fallen garlands messily draped down your walls from your lack of skills with a hammer and nail. You’d never admit to him in a lifetime, but Eddie Munson was surely right that you, personally, were too dimwitted to use tools with no guidance. Turns out a leveler and stud sensor were actually quite useful in keeping your house from being hammered with the countless holes that now decorated your walls. You watched Eddie take in the amateur scenery, his will working overtime to stifle the chuckle that quivered his lips thin. “You make any comments, and I’ll kick you out.”

His hands flew up in defense. “I wasn’t going to say anything- although, how gnarly would a photo of your blood be as our next album cover?”

Giggles of shock coming from you rang in his ear like a catchy melody. “Listen, you came here to help, so please do. I want to shower, and sleep-”

“And eat. That hospital food was shit.” He prioritized. “Go shower, I’ll make you some breakfast,” his watch proved otherwise, “or lunch, I guess, and you can eat before you sleep- oh! And take your medicine, as well. I’ll switch out your bandages when you’re done showering. Don’t worry about anything here, okay? Just relax for me.”

And you did just so, following the words of his advice brought you to the warmth of your shower, where your limbs fell slack from destressing. You worked around the stitching of your head that stung under hot water, as you maneuvered your hair through the rainfall of the showerhead. But too much steam was beginning to blur your vision, and your shower was cut unfortunately short after you swiftly rid your body of any lingering antiseptic smell that clung to you. 

“Ow, Eddie!” Your hand squeezed his, as your forehead became cushioned by the tone of his torso, where he stood before you. 

As you sat on the toilet, he looked down, and caressed your head gently. “Sorry, sweetheart, just gotta get it clean, ‘s all.” A new square of gauze concealed your wound, before a long strip of bandage secured itself around your forehead. Your head lifted from the comfort of his belly, and he bent at the waist to examine your face. A smile grew so naturally. “There… beautiful as always.” There was no denying the lunge in your heart that soared at his words, but your stubbornness withheld the swoon that would have usually followed with a new inure look to your face. Eddie guffawed at your pertinaciousness. “Fine, I hope you know you have a bald spot on the back of your head.”

And he devilishly smiled at your sudden movements to feel around your hair. “It’s only because of the stitches.” You gruffed in protest. “Plus, what the back of my head looks like is none of my business.”

“Still, you’re balding before me.”

And you wanted so desperately to wipe that smirk off his face. “Push back your bangs right now.”

Touche. “You should really eat your food before I spit in it.”

You had the liberty of delving into Eddie Munson’s personally made lukewarm tomato soup, and a sandwich so untimely perfect, the burnt bread did little to match the cheese that surely did not melt. And yet, it did everything to fill that little hole in your heart, as one bite brought you back to the cozy trailer, where endless nights were spent concocting meals from ingredients that scientifically went together, but for some reason refused to work when Eddie touched them. 

He left you alone in the comfort of your bedroom that was once shared with him, as you quietly endured enjoyed your meal, and sat with the events that came about. Seeing Eddie had tumultuously screwed with your already bruised head, and set you back a mile on the path to peace. Where you blamed yourself over the rise of bubbling feelings, you also gave yourself the grace of remembering this man had been the love of your life for seven years. Facing him would be anything but peaceful, and yet, his stupid, round face managed to conjure that settling tranquility of deep contentment within your heart that only ever built under his hands of love and care. But he also managed to tear it, and that was something beyond the repairs of five months apart. No matter how brutal. Your pillow still stained with the tears of endless cries over the insecurities of no longer being good enough for him. But if you sniffed deep enough, his burrowed cologne would fume into your nose at night that allowed you to gain a safe sleep during the dark hours. 

How polarizing he could be was beyond the study of any scientist. 

Between the last slurp of your soup, your eyes succumbed to the heaviness of your eyelids, as what was intended to be a half an hour nap prolonged into a five hour doze, until the sun decided to rest for the evening, bleeding its red into a darkening sky. As advised by your doctor, a couple pills were to be popped to alleviate that ache that would haunt you for days to come, so with a march to the kitchen ahead, you called for the man you needed most. “Eddie!” Drowned by your tiredness, your voice did little to amplify his name from the second floor. “Eddie!” But a second call of his name proved to be useless when nothing followed in return.

Dr. Rosenthal surely hadn’t been lying about the aftermath of dizziness, as the simple event of walking down your staircase had turned into an olympic sport that nearly caused another blow to your head if it hadn’t been for the obscene tightness of your grip on the railing that descended. “Eddie, seriously! I’ve been calling you, can’t you hear?!”

The quietness of your home answered back, as you approached the bottom steps of the stairs, where suddenly soft lights straightened the blurred lines of your eyes to the clarity of a beautiful glow. Warm lanterns and sticks of candles kindled your chimney and center table, where red bows of various sizes decorated themselves along your living room to match the ribbon of your Christmas tree that had not been put up prior to your waking. Sweet scents of cinnamon and pines worked magically to calm the agitated nerves of your head, and your eyes dragged in awe to the breathtaking display of green garlands that dressed your home to the Christmas perfection you always dreamed of. 

Your eyes watered, and though you knew he wouldn’t answer, you still quietly spoke. “Eddie?”

So simple, yet so fulfilling, your heart soared at the work of his hands that ached for your happiness. While it did not amount to the pain he once dragged you through, a meaningful smile that hadn’t been flashed in months finally etched its place onto your face where it perfectly belonged.

And much to your dismay, but simultaneously your biggest hope… it was because of him. 

While it broke your spirit for his efforts to take so long to return, you smiled through your hurting cries, as you finally gained the wish for your Eddie—once lost, now running through the wooded path to be found—to return. And with it, a note to keep your heart content with the soundness of peace. Whether it be with Eddie. Whether it not be with Eddie. 

At the very least, you got your Christmas spirit. 

Management wants to bitch me out, I’m sorry I had to leave you :( but I’m gonna convince ‘em to let me stay in Indy for a while. Kinda hard to say no to a face like mine, you know? You know. Call me to make sure you’re okay, sweetheart, or I’ll break into your house! - Love, Eddie

P.S, gave Trevor his ladder back, so don’t speak to him :)

#stranger things #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader

[ashwhowrites]

Rockstar!eddie x reader. Eddie is on tour and one of the dates lands on his birthday. Reader couldn’t join them on the tour because of work. Eddie is super bummed because he can’t see reader on his birthday. Reader plans with one of the guys in CC to visit Eddie on tour and surprise him for his birthday. Maybe she promised to call him the morning of and she can’t because she’s on a flight. Eddie’s sad because he thinks she forgot his birthday and then she surprises him there. 💗

We all need some warm fluff for the holidays so I'm on it! I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3

Birthday surprise

Eddie loved being a rockstar, it was his dream after all. He loved the guitar string scar on his fingertips, the sweat in his hair, the screams of the fans, and the lights on him. It was everything he wanted. But after he fell in love, it was bittersweet.

He still loved everything but now he had some things he hated. He loved the tour but hated missing her. He loved singing to his fans but missed when she sang along. He missed his home with her when he sat on the tiny tour bus. He missed her meals when he ordered takeout. He missed her.

He's been on the road for two months, and while he loved talking to her on the phone, he just wanted to see her face.

"I want to see your face." Eddie groaned over the phone, a pout on his lips. His body rested against the uncomfortable hotel bed, his cheek and shoulder smashed together to hold the phone in between.

"I'm happy I get to see yours on TV and in magazines. You'll be back home with me before you know it." She reassured him.

She could hear the sad sigh over the phone, her heart cracking as he mumbled out in agreement.

"Cheer up, baby. Tomorrow is your birthday! And I'll call you right in the morning."

~~~

Eddie stared at the small clock on his wrist, then at the phone, and back to his wrist. He had to be at the studio right in the morning, so he gave her the number. He told every employee that if someone called for him, he had to tell him right away. But he was worried that they wouldn't tell him so he requested a phone in his dressing room. But the phone never rang.

Because she never called.

~~~

Eddie slouched as he walked into the hotel lobby. It was nearly late afternoon and she never called. She talked about it just the night before so she couldn't have just forgotten, right?

"So want to come down to the bar in a bit? Celebrate the big birthday!" Gareth cheered, he knew Eddie would say no. Eddie and Gareth were the closest in the band, and Gareth knew Y/N's surprise was going to work perfectly.

"No. I think I'm going to try to call Y/N and see if she's right."

Eddie walked into his dark hotel room, he switched on the light, and raced to the phone. He dialed her number and waited, waited, and waited. She didn't pick up, he sighed and went to call her again and when someone knocked on his door. He sighed annoyed. All he wanted to do was get drunk and cry over the fact his girlfriend forgot his birthday. He wasn't big on birthdays anyway, but he hoped this year could have been different.

"No room service needed!" He said towards the door. But they knocked again.

"Gareth I said no!" He tried again, but the person knocked again.

He groaned and walked towards the door. "What do you-" but he cut himself off.

There she was.

His girlfriend was smiling on the other side of the door.

"Happy birthday, handsome." Her arms open as she waited for a hug.

" Oh my God!" Eddie cheered, a smile stretched across his lips as he wrapped his arms around her. He couldn't help but feel like what a kid on Christmas was supposed to feel. Not that he would know. But he had a feeling this was that feeling.

He took a minute to soak her in. His nose in her hair, his arms squeezing her tighter, and his lips on her forehead.

"God, I missed you so much." He mumbled against her skin.

"I missed you too." She said, her hands rubbing up and down his back. He leaned back an inch, just to secure his lips against hers. He got lost in the softness of her lips. He moved his lips against hers with more desperation than he thought he felt.

After a long minute, Eddie pulled away. He moved over so she could walk in, her heavy bags on the floor. She eyed the mess of the room, with a tiny smile.

"I didn't think I'd have company." Eddie blushed, grabbing the trash as he threw away all his cans and wrappers.

"Your ass better not have!" She said, a tone that showed she was serious but a slight silliness to give him relief.

"Never." He promised, a proud smile on his face knowing that's a promise he'd forever keep.

"I'm sorry I didn't call, I was on the plane then at the airport. Then talk with management to get here. And well, I thought maybe throwing you off completely was best." She said, she sat on the bed and he followed. His warm body was next to her as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"It's okay. I may have thrown a fit all day, but this is by far the best birthday present." He said.

"I might have something to prove that wrong." She said with a wink, he eyed her cheeky smile.

"And that's?" He asked

She stood up, slowly unbuttoning her jacket. He tried to keep his eyes on her face but he was a boy in love after all, and fuck he had needs.

He dropped to her chest the second her skin was shown. A deep red bra cupped her breasts perfectly, then down to her smooth stomach. Once the jacket hit the floor, so did he.

His knees were against the carpet as he practically bowed down to her. His hands ran up her bare legs and cupped her ass.

He was in awe of her. No matter how many times he saw her, he was amazed.

He felt his jeans tighten at the small bow at the top of her underwear.

"You are my present I get to unwrap?" He asked, a cheeky smile as he looked up.

"Yes"

Within a second he was on his feet, her body thrown to the bed behind them as he crawled on top of her.

"Happy fucking birthday to me."

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x female reader #eddie munson fluff #ashwhowrites #rockstar eddie munson angst #rockstar! eddie x reader #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar eddie x reader

[jeonsbabygirlsworld]

CHAMPAGNE CONFETTI

SUMMARY: It was supposed to be a perfect night to spend with Jungkook and his mom, though you are nervous Jungkook helps you to calm down but after a few hours the things take a toll on you both .

PAIRINGS: FWB TO LOVERS (rockstar Jungkook x Reader)

WORD COUNT:2.1k

WARNINGS: AGNST, SMUT, FLUFF at the end kind of not really...? also Jungkook rides a bike, has a beef with his brother. Reader slaps Jungkook once .

SMUT WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, Fingering in elevator, oral m,f , missionary, cream pie as always, fingering, so many kisses, squirting, making a sex tape for like 2 minutes?

A/N: oh god 3D jungkook has an effect on me you guys I hope you enjoy this . As always please like, comment, follow and reblog sweet pies. <3

“I don’t know Jungkook are you sure about it?” You ask nervous about the fact he had invited you to his mother's birthday party. 

“I’m sure baby, please come. I'm sure she would love to have you there, also wanna have champagne confetti there?”He said and you just know he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Fine kook I’ll get ready. Can you come and pick me up, also I’m always up for it”You answer him chuckling right away.

“Yeah, baby I’ll be there in a few get ready yeah baby, and great.” Saying goodbye, he hangs up. 

Present

You get ready soon after his call doing a slight makeup, hair styled in wavy curls and wearing a new dress you saved for a special occasion the dress ends right above your knees. 

There was a knock you heard while wearing your black heels. Opening the door, you meet with the site of Jungkook dressed in a suit his hair-sleeked blazer resting in his hands and a few buttons unbuttoned. 

“Hey pretty girl, you ready?” Jungkook whispered while extending his right hand, nodding at him you allow him to guide you to His bike. “Hop on pretty girl,”he says giving you a helmet. Make sure to not ruin your hair. 

“Hold on tight baby,” he says starting his bike, the speed of his bike fastened while you reach the venue safely “Kook I’m nervous what will she think about us,”you say nervously while jungkook walks you into the elevator“Relax she is gonna love you,”he says huffing out a chuckle “I’m just stressed,” you say entering the lift and staying by the railing. 

“Can I do something to make you relax baby?”Jungkook says pressing his body to yours “Jungkook you crazy” you answer not believing him “Come on y/n we’re going 28, you’ve got 25 floors to come” he heaved “fuck go for it, kook” you say his fingers coming up to circle your clit rubbing them in eight shapes and inserting his fingers “cum baby” he said while you whined “oh my god gonna cum” you say slightly griping his blazer not wanting to ruin it. 

“Gonna cum jungkook” you moaned yeah’s leaving your mouth soon cumming on his fingers and removing them he sucks on them “mm came so much” he teases you “Shut up let’s go”You kiss his cheeks. 

While the elevator Dings and opens to the Room directly, holding his hands he guides you to meet his Mom woah she looks amazing you say loudly in your mind “Hi, good evening Mrs. Jeon, Happy Birthday” you say a bit cheerful “Oh hello dear and Thank you so much” she says hugging you both “Son make her comfortable all right?” She stated “Yes Mom don’t worry”Jungkook exclaimed. 

Now both you and jungkook and his mother were sitting on the sofa chatting about the new song he was going to release “Hey Kook let her listen to the song you going to release”you say excitedly “ Yes here you go Mom”he smiled. 

In the middle of the song buzzing he gladly told his mother to dance with him “Oh Mom, I love you” The room was completely filled with laughs and giggles while saw them happily dancing while his mother called you too “Come here honey, join us” she says forwarding her right hand accepting it you both started dancing “oh twirl sweetie “she says while Jungkook stood there looking at both of you with a wide grin. 

“Oh, looks like someone is having a great time over here”Then there came someone whom Jungkook wished never to see. His older brother. While you squeaked a tiny “hi” to him. Jungkook stopped the music looking at his mother “Mom? You said it was going to be only us, didn’t you?” He hounded “I said it because I knew if I told you he was going to come you wouldn’t have come here” she said grabbing his arm “Leave Mom I don’t wanna stay” he said removing her hands, Jungkook eyes his brother “Oh she’s the new one kook? Good taste indeed” his brother laughs “You always bring someone new, you going to push her off too soon? Using her just for her body, right?”He says with a whiskey glass in his hand “Baby get your purse we are leaving” Jungkook warns “Did I get on your nerves, Kook, you had one girl, but it was too boring right? So two girls are cool for you?”  His brother laughed away. 

It happens really quickly Jungkook grabs the glass from which he was drinking and hits him luckily his brother misses it his mother yells “Jungkook are you crazy?” She says raising her voice, never batting an eye he grabs you by your hand while you stand still scared “y/n get it together let’s go” he growls. 

Getting back to your senses you “Jungkook are you fucking stupid? What would have happened if it would have fucking hit your brother?” You bombard him with questions only to receive a low groan “fuck”. 

Jungkook had it even with you asking him questions “Y/n can you shut the fuck up, please?” He says pinning you to the elevator railing and grabbing your cheeks making your lips pout out. “Be quiet, can you? I know what I did” Shutting you up you were scared to see Jungkook like this.

Exiting the elevator you follow Jungkook who is walking at a fast pace “Jungkook wait” you call out “Walk fast y/n we are going back to my place” he says handing you the helmet “Jungkook no, you need to tell me first what the fuck happened up there” you exclaimed, oh boy that was his last straw “fuck y/n can you not stay calm for a fucking second I know what I did and who are you to ask me this stuff you're not my girlfriend and that’s right I keep you for your body , and your acting as if you didn’t knew I have many girls , you anyways will get boring ” he exclaimed, hearing this made your blood boil you slap him across his face and leaving from there. 

Tears run from your eyes, and you call for a taxi you go home crying, you and Jungkook were fuck buddies but staying with him didn’t feel like you were just using your bodies, you went on dates, play dates with bam, showering together, hell you both have gotten so close to each other he has a fucking tattoo of your initials( “or maybe it was just an illusion, and it's just the initial letter of all his fucks”) on his Adonis belt and the aftercare made you more than just fuck buddies.

Reaching home, you unlock the door and collapse on your knees you cry loudly when you hear a continuous ring of the bell and a loud banging noise. “Open the door baby I know you in there, I’m sorry baby, and I know I messed up listen to me, will you?” Jungkook banged harder and pushed open the door finally, instantly getting on his knees hugging you.

“Baby I’m sorry I didn’t mean that at all baby” Jungkook said kissing your forehead you cried harder in his arms “That really hurt Jungkook, you saying you use me just for your pleasure hurt me like shit I know that’s the point of our deal but still” you speak in between the sobs. “I know baby I’m sorry I really didn’t mean it, you can yell at me, curse me, just don’t leave me” he says his face levelling yours while you slightly chuckle at him through tears.

You slightly peck his lips not intending on making it last longer, but Jungkook grabbed your chin and kissed you roughly the kiss soon turned into make out when he carefully takes you in his arms and kisses you.

He lays you down on your bed coming to kiss your neck leaving wet kisses and also sucking on few hickeys on his way down towards your pussy. Fuck you were already wet, his fingers soon finding your clit he groans “Fuck baby wet already?” He says rubbing them over your panties. Going face to face he removes your panties whining when he sees your slick connecting a string to your panties.

“Fuck Jungkook I’m so wet need your fingers now” you grab onto his hair already whining “yeah baby? Moan my name I like it when you say it” he smiles teasing is finger in your pink hole “mm put it in” demanding he inserts one “what a sight y/n” teasing you with his long fingers he fastens the speed hitting your g-spot making you moan loudly “kook right there” you say, “here baby?” He asks making sure just to hit the spot right after.

The feeling of his fingers inside you was overwhelming “too much” you whine when his tongue comes to press kisses on your clit “no kook sensitive” you cry “No y/n it’s never too much cum, pretty baby going to squirt?” He teases you knowing damn well Jungkook and his work with his fingers “cumming Jungkook” you say while squirting all over his fingers “that’s write made you a fucking mess” he growls.

Hovering over you his slick covered fingers make way in your mouth you suck like how suck his pretty cock removing his cloths his cock was now out of the boxers the tip swollen and red begging for attention when you slightly palm him.

Pushing him you were the one on top of him kissing him on the cheeks you make your way to his abs licking them and laying kisses all over them and pressing bunch of kisses on were your initials are tattooed “Fuck kook they look so hot every-time I see them” you moan now giving attention to his cock “take it in your mouth baby "you palm him giving kitten licks on the tip and fastening your pace “ oh shit” Jungkook groans his head moving backwards because of pleasure while your left hand comes near his to choke him  while hand hands make a ponytail for you hair  Such a head pusher “ fuck y/n, no baby going To cum inside you” he says swatting your hands in few seconds .

“Come on sit up on the bed yeah show me that pussy again yes baby?” He says while you’re slightly confused while he goes and grabs his phone asking for your consent “can I baby?” He asks while you verbally consent him “yeah go-ahead kook” his fingers coming back to your pussy he slightly rubs in between your lips while you grab in his palm telling him to touch you there, and he angles his phone perfectly “oh yeah kook” you murmur “moan baby moan” he praises you. Your pussy makes wet sloppy noises.

You grab on his hard on gently circling his tip. “Now want you inside kook” you say grabbing his phone and throwing at the end of the bed “hm lay on your back come on ready for some real champagne and confetti? “He asks giggling.  “Yeah, always ready for it” Missionary his favourite

Jungkook rubs his swollen tip sliding them in your pussy lips to wet himself enough to not hurt you. “Fuck such a tight fit” mumbling he starts delivering rough thrusts while your pretty manicured nails claw on his shoulder, his fucking sliver necklace swinging in front of your face makes him look ten times hotter than he already is.

“Fuck Jungkook, so big” you moan getting closer to your orgasm “kook cumming” you say while he backs away to look at the creamy mess between you both the white ring of your slick makes him thrust back even further roughly “fuck y/n, love fucking your pussy, love you baby “in the heat of moment you say it back not minding while you both soon chase your orgasm.

He cums right after you pulling out to make a mess with his spilling cum pushing it inside. He backs away collapsing next to you while you hug with your legs tucked on his

“Did you mean what you said Jungkook because I meant what I said” you asked hoping he would mean it too “Yes baby I’ve been in love with you like forever now but I was bit scared to admit it” he says hugging you tightly. 

“And about what happened in the door don’t think about we usually never cross paths but yeah he did get on my nerves” he explains so you would calm down about the matter “But kook it would be really dangerous if it would hit him on the head,” you said worrying “yeah baby I know I’ll talk to mother tomorrow morning let’s sleep? I know you are tired” he tucks you down and kissed your lips. 

Good night baby …. Jungkook whispers slightly humming a tune good night Jungkook hugging out a breath. Jungkook is left there thinking all night about the events.

Taglist : @babybella337 , @jungk97kwife , @kimmingyuswifee .

#bts #jungkook #jungkook x reader #btsfanfic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #bts fanfic bts smut #Rockstar jungkook #bts fanfic

[sidekick-hero]

(steddie | explicit | wc: 290 | tags: semi-public sex, rockstar!eddie | written for the @steddiemicrofic bonus round ‘birthday’ in honor of @steddieas-shegoes's birthday)

Honestly, there aren't many things left on Eddie's bucket list. He's met his musical idols, he's been kissed by a hot jock under the bleachers, he's been to the ocean, he's joined the Mile High Club (also with said hot jock, who also happens to be the love of his life).

Tonight, Eddie will check off one of the last items on that list: fuck Steve on stage after a Corroded Coffin concert.

He told Steve about this dream he had one night after getting drunk to celebrate his first record deal. Eddie told it like it was a big joke, but Steve, of course, knew better.

"Stevie, baby, I love you so much. I can't believe you're letting me do this," Eddie pants, his voice echoing through the empty hall, the only sound except for the slap of skin against skin and their heavy breathing. They're in the middle of the stage and Steve is riding him on the same chair where he stood a few hours ago and played his heart out in front of thousands of fans. All the spotlights are on them, adding to the heat building up between them, and they're both drenched in sweat.

He can still feel the crowd watching them and it only spurs him on to reach for Steve's hard cock to take him to the heights of Olympus itself. They're both gods, licking the ambrosia that spills between them as Steve comes from Eddie's hand.

"Happy birthday, baby." Steve grins at him, licking his lips like the cat that caught the canary, and Eddie has never been more in love with this impossible man.

There's only one thing left on his list: To marry Steve, the love of his life.

#steddie #steddie smut #steddie fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #rockstar eddie munson #semi public sex #happy birthday Mick! #my writing #nsft

[folkookie97]

❝why'd you only call me when you're high?❞ — MYG

— SUMMARY: ❝ It's Yoongi's birthday and he starts feeling guilty for breaking up with you when you most needed him. ❞

— PAIRING: rockstar!yoongi x actress!reader

— TYPE: light angst, mild dark | rockstar!au, celebrities!au

— WORD COUNT: 907

— WARNINGS/TAGS: Part of "I Bet on Losing Dogs" One-Shots Collection, toxic love, exes to lovers, second chance romance, secret relationship, non-graphic smut (not with the reader), semi-public sex, Trust Issues, Implied/Referenced Alcoholism, ambiguous/open ending, Unplanned Pregnancy, arguing, Yoongi is bad at feeling here (maybe a lil bit toxic too lol), This part is based on Why'd You Only Call Me When You're High? (Arctic Monkeys), POV Second Person

— NOTES¹: This one-shot is part of the "I Bet On Losing Dogs" Collection, random scenarios of my AU where Yoongi is a toxic rockstar with trust issues and an alcohol addiction who secretly dated an actress at the beginning of her career.

— NOTES²: Happy bday Yoongi my sweetheart, I love you so much <3 (he was my ultimate bias from 2015 to 2019 guys, but I'll never get over him 😭😭)

— RELEASE DATE: March 08, 2024

— CROSSPOSTING: ao3

"So you must be the birthday guy of the party. Happy birthday, bro!"

Min Yoongi heard that last sentence a trillion times during the night, the insincerity of the congratulations already going unnoticed by his confused brain as he filled his body with an absurd amount of alcohol.

He hadn't been worried about nothing more since the last few hours. His face was no longer anything more than a mask whose faked fellow feeling had the sole intention of at least not making the situation even more uncomfortable for the guests and their random companions.

When the idea of celebrating his birthday with a party full of other celebrities came into his own mind, Yoongi didn't figured the bad scenarios that could happen at the private club. He just wanted to get rid of the feeling of loneliness that had been damaging him over the last few months. The impostor syndrome haunting him during sleepless nights with the creative block, whenever he tried writing some new songs for his new album.

The deadline until the new tour's start was short, and his patience was even shorter.

Yoongi just wanted to de-stress. Celebrate his special night with some friends from the same celebrities' world, drink a lot, eat some snacks and maybe have sex with random models. Everything he used doing before he met you.

All it took was drinking too much until he went to a far corner to make out with a Victoria's Secret's Angel who wasn't that famous, but at least made up for her lack of fame with her beauty and tongue technology.

However, maybe the weight of having a different mouth touching him after being used to feeling only someone specific for so long had been too much for his emotions heightened due alcohol.

Or maybe he felt guilty. Guilty for letting another woman touch him after sharing so many good moments with you.

Guilty for saying such cruel words to you during your latest arguments. Guilty for don't understanding your desire to see him publicly deny his dating rumors with other women. Guilty for accusing you of being paranoiac, too jealous and also accusing you of blame him for always putting his career before your relationship.

Guilty for never prioritizing you.

But mostly, guilty for leaving you when you needed him most. Guilty for accusing you of pregnancy trick for his fame and money. Guilty for always being a toxic boyfriend and already being a bad future dad.

Yoongi would always love you. He knew that. Everyone in his inner circle knew that. Even that hot model could realized that when he started crying right after cumming in her mouth.

But he didn't deserve your love. He didn't deserve your baby.

And being there, at his own pity party with his lips — and eyes — still swollen and more glasses in his hands as he continued greeting his guests only proved this cruel truth.

It was his fucking birthday. All he really wanted was being with you. Cuddling you, playing some of both of you favorite songs on his guitar, caressing your pregnant belly, talking to the baby...

Damn it! He just wanted you again. He just wanted being with you forever, being your husband. He wanted having a family with you. He needed to get you back. He needed his stupid party end up being useful, at least knocking some sense into his fucking mind.

With his vision blurred from tasting different colorful drinks, Yoongi searched for your number in his blocked contacts, letting out a long sigh with the increased guilt that hit in his chest when he realized that you didn't block him back.

So he pressed the call icon and waited.

Three rejected calls. Four missed calls. He could almost daydream, remembering you carrying your own shoes and calling him every possible curses while leaving your old apartment after one of your arguments.

Even though the clock on his cell phone showed that it was past three in the morning, he knew you were awake. Or at least you woken up with his fucking annoying stubbornness.

I'm so sorry love

It wasn't something very special, but it was as much as his high drunk state allowed him typing in your DMs without looking more stupid than his usual.

It wasn't a decent apology for everything he'd put you through lately. All the arguments, the swearing, the shade comments on the internet, his neglect about the baby...

Yoongi knew you deserved better words. You deserved all the love in the world. All the love he felt for you but never showed you in a healthy way.

But deep down, Yoongi knew you would answer him. He wasn't proud of being sure about that, but he knew it. He knew you better than you knew yourself.

Hi. Why'd you only call me when you're high?

And you unfortunately also knew him enough to know that alcohol was the cause behind his sudden motivation to contact you, after months of just ghosting your attempts to still save your relationship. Save your future family.

I'm so sorry

He practically repeated the same message before trying to click the call icon again.

This time, you answered, barely giving him time to process the situation before your trembling voice echoed through his phone. "Prove it to me without being fucking drunk as usual. Prove it to me without being at your stupid birthday party."

#i.b.o.l.d. collection 💌 #yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi x y/n #bts x female reader #bts scenarios #bts fic #bts au #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts drabble #bts x you #bts x reader #bts x fem!reader #bts x oc #bts ff #yoongi angst #bts smut #min yoongi x reader #happy birthday yoongi #yoongi smut #bts dark #suga x reader #yoongi scenarios #yoongi drabble #yoongi fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts series #bts oneshot #yoongi x oc

[avatar-anna]

The Professor

Better Off

Pregnancy Series

Champagne Problems

Hockey Player! Harry x Figure Skater! Reader

Unkown Number

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Bonus!

Latina!reader x Harry

Makeup artist!reader x Harry

Vogue Beauty Secrets

Painting H's nails

Girl Gone Live

How they spend their time before H goes onstage

Young dad!Harry x Young mom!reader

70s Harry and Y/n

Florist!reader x Harry

Harry is oblivious

Chef!reader x Harry

Would That I

Picnic

Younger!reader x Harry

Part 2: Harry gets insecure about the relationship

Brazilian!reader x Harry

Stripper!reader x Harry

Part 2: Harry defends reader

Asexual!reader x Harry

Guitarist!reader x Harry

Part 2

Single dad!Harry x reader

Harry x swiftie!reader

Night one of Eras Tour

London Boy

Falling

Part 2

Grapejuice Blues

Hookup Scene

Hunger

The Only Exception

Happy New Year

Happy Birthday

Just the Two of Us

Harrychella

Traitor

Part 2

Knock Three Times

Harry is Sick

The one where Harry gets amnesia

An update

The one where the relationship gets exposed

College au

Postpartum depression

Reader has a miscarriage

The one where best friend!reader gets over Harry

Getting together behind o's back

Wildest Dreams

Reader opens for Live on Tour

Reader listens to Fine Line for the first time

She

Catching up as friends

Reader cheats on Harry

Bodyguard!harry

Maybe Next Time He'll Think

Going to the Met Gala

Reader gets a Grammy

Harry and reader can't get pregnant

Speak Now

Reader has a chronic illness

Where Harry promises he didn't cheat

Harry comforts reader on a bad day

Where H's family comes to see reader perform

Best friendrry at the Grammys

Sweet (Valentine's Day blurb)

Good in Bed

Sick reader blurb

Better Man

Cheeseball (Harry x plus size reader)

Baby Said (rockstar! reader x Harry)

Just Called to Say I Love You

Childhood Best Friends

Reader helps Harry with his grief, Part Two

Cute little blurb about wine and sitting in front of ac units

Harry and Y/n cuddling on the floor

Heat Wave

Reader has an eating disorder

bad idea, right?

Rumors (Instagram Fic)

Harry gets called a slag

New Boot Scootin'

Reader asks Harry to slow down

Harry's friends give reader a hard time

#harry styles #harry styles masterlist #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Can you write about Eddie dad, like he buys his kid his first guitar? But he has to sell sweetheart to get it? But the reader gets sweetheart back with her engagement ring and then Eddie is like where is your ring???

Just an FYI the baby's name is Asher.

Eddie always knew his child would end up loving music, when you two found out you were expecting he started to play music to your bump as it grew, when your baby boy was finally here with you two Eddie was the only one who was able to make him fall asleep as he sung to him.

It's been years of singing to him, of playing the guitar with him that lead to Asher asking for his own guitar for his birthday. You and Eddie talked about it and decided that seven was old enough for him to start learning how to play.

Eddie was over the moon that his son wanted to play the guitar...he was also heartbroken knowing that you two couldn't afford a nice guitar for him just yet. You both agreed to pick up more hours at work and to save as much as possible in the next few months leading to Asher's birthday. He never wanted to have to pinch pennies now that Asher is old enough to notice slight changes that comes with having to save money.

It was a few weeks before Asher's birthday and he was so excited, all he can talk about was his rockstar themed birthday party. You were busy getting everything ready that you haven't had time yet to talk to Eddie about the guitar and Eddie took that to his advantage. One day you took Asher to the party supply store to pick out whatever he wanted and Eddie quickly went to the pawn shop.

It hurt his heart having to sell his sweetheart but it broke his being knowing that Asher wasn't on the path of getting a guitar with how much you've been able to save. You've cut back on everything. You saved as much as you possible could for the past few months and it wasn't enough. Eddie saw how much you were upset over knowing Asher probably wasn't getting a guitar anytime soon and as he thinks about you and his baby boy he knew he had to sell his sweetheart to make his sweethearts happy.

You got back to the house with bags full of party supplies and a very happy six year old. "Mama can I call grandpa! I want tell him bout the party theme!" You laugh feeling you heart swells hearing how excited your baby was and you allowed him to call his grandpa as you put away the party supplies to be used later. As you were putting things away you noticed your husband missing. Soon after noticing this Eddie walks through the door with the excuse of Dustin asking for help with the upcoming campaign. You shrug it off without thinking of anything.

When it's time to tuck Asher into bed he asks Eddie to play a song. You see Eddie tense up and stutter out an excuse of his throat hurting slightly. It takes Asher a little longer to fall asleep that night.

It's two days before Asher's birthday when you pull Eddie to the side to ask about the guitar. "I think we have just enough for a cheap guitar for him" you mutter when Eddie sighs, "Actually...." he mumbles and winces as your focus snaps towards him. "Actually?" You question making him nod. "Isoldsweetheart" he says as quickly as possible. You glare at him playfully, "Munson you know I can't understand you" you say playfully, he takes a deep breath and says it again. "I...I sold sweetheart" Your eyes widen and your breathing hitches. "YOU WHAT?!?!" You nearly scream as he covers your mouth, "Baby don't yell you'll wake Ash" you nod and he uncovers your mouth and sighs again.

"I sold sweetheart. I don't want to give him a shitty guitar for his first one and I can always get a cheap one later to replace her." He tries to justify his actions as you shake your head, "Baby you love that guitar" He shrugs, "I sold it. That's the end of that but I want to get him a true guitar. One that he'll grow up with." All you can do is nod knowing there is no point in arguing.

Eddie was in charge of getting the guitar, you knew nothing about them so he went to his work and got what he deemed worthy enough for his baby. While he was getting the guitar you dropped Asher off at Wayne's to go get sweetheart back. You can tell Eddie is upset with the lost and so is Asher even if he doesn't know that sweetheart is actually gone just yet. You found out where Eddie sold the guitar at and went over with the only expensive thing you owned...your engagement ring.

Today Asher woke up with so much knowing that today was his party. You were in such a rush that you forgot all about sweetheart and your ring. While you were setting up the tables Eddie was setting up all the presents for Asher to be open later in the day. He looked over at you and smiled seeing you talking to Asher trying to lay out the table cloth. He goes over to you two so he can help you out but then something makes him stop in his tracks. "Where is your ring?" Hearing his voice makes you stop in your tracks. "Baby. Where is your ring??" You can hear the confusing and the panic in his voice, you turn to see him and you swallow the lump in your throat before trying to explain yourself.

"Well I...I got sweetheart back..." You mutter making his eyes widen. "You did not sell your ring. You loved that ring!" You nod trying to calm him, "I did but baby I told you before I don't need a ring! I always just wanted our matching bands" He shakes his head but before he can argue back everyone shows up for the party. "We aren't done talking about this." He says before going to greet everyone.

The party is coming to an end when it's time for Asher to open his big present. Seeing his eyes light up and hearing his shouts of excitement made it all worth it. What made it even more worth it was seeing him and Eddie play their guitar together.

A few months later when your birthday came around you were surprised by your baby boy playing one of your favorite songs on his new guitar, and by your other baby giving you a new engagement ring that he made you promise to never get rid of.

Tagging: @emmyshortcake @bloodthirstybreedingbunny @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @thefreak0fhawkinshigh @lofaewrites

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagines #dad eddie munson #husband eddie #dad!eddie #Husband!eddie #eddie imagines

[pinkwright]

baby, let me know if u wanna roll | shuri udaku.

ƸӜƷ

pairing — panther!shuri x partygirl!y/n

trope — bestfriends 2 lovers

inspo — hip hop star by beyoncé feat. (big boi & sleepy brown)

warnings — fingering (both receiving), cunnilingus (reader receiving), possessive!shuri. enhanced!shuri as in the panther spirit inside her is almost personified (??) (idk how to describe it), confident reader, sub!reader, soft dom!shuri, handsy!shuri, overstimulation. dirty talk, humiliation kink, needy!shuri, jealous!shuri but literally so slight like just blink n you'll miss it, the alarm in the beginning is an alarm for five mins before midnight, n yeah.

a/n — if theres errors thats my bad, hope u enjoy ! <3

⟢˚ @mbakuetshurisprincess @inmyheadimobsessed @letitias-fav @barkbarkbo @shurismainbxtch @verachii @rxcently @shuriszn

ஜ

bad boots on, pants down low. i’m a rockstar. baby, let me know if u wanna ride with a hip hop star.

the swing of your hips is entrancing, the heavy bass guiding the silky whining of your waist as you let the music flow through you. the hem of your skirt is sitting dangerously high on your thighs, the length of your legs glistening under the flashing lights when, suddenly, the vibration of your phone jolts in your hand, which makes a smile break through your lips before you spin on your heels to gaze up at the elevated platform ahead.

the familiar figure leaning over the railing already has her eyes on you, her fingers stroking her chin as she lets her eyes slide down your figure, and the smirk she flashes you sends you reeling. your smile widens before you lift your arm and gesture to your wrist with the pointer finger of your opposite hand, the drink in your hand sloshing in your excitement, as you make a rapid cue to your imaginary watch.

shuri raises her eyebrow in amusement before slightly jerking her head back, calling you to come to her while her hands move to adjust the silk over her torso. the click of your heels washes away with the volume of the lively club, the smile on your face light as you make your way through the bodies of the familiar faces you had invited to tonight’s event, offering short but friendly greetings.

you dance your way through the crowd, ever the party girl, making your way up the stairs that lead to where shuri was, the entrance to the platform secluded from the chaos that was the heart of the club, and you glide through the hanging crystal curtain that acted as a makeshift door, quickly glancing at your phone, seeing the time switch to midnight, then you’re lifting your gaze to sweep over the space, your sight quickly landing on her.

the smile that hasn’t left your face widens as you make your way towards her, quickly placing your drink on the centre table as you walk before you take to sweeping your gaze over her, she is turned toward you, and her back is pressed against the railing that overlooks the dance floor. you lean yourself between her spread legs, bringing your arms around her neck as you heavily press into the warmth of her body, and the squeal that escapes from you brushes against her neck, making her chuckle lowly.

her own hands place themselves on your hips before sliding up along your waist, her tall frame leaning forward into the gentle pull of your arms, and as she brings her touch to the bare skin of your upper back, she firmly presses you into her, “happy birthday, babe.” your hands are trailing along her strong shoulders as you pull back from the dip of her neck to press a kiss against the skin of her cheek, “the mighty panther’s finally the big twenty-two.”

a heavy laugh crawls from your chest as you jerk in her hold, her hands dropping to squeeze your waist as she rolls her eyes at your teasing, a smile pulling at her lips as she looks down at you. there’s a loud call of her name that has her eyes reluctantly pulling away from yours, your body detaching from hers as there’s soon a multitude of birthday greetings flooding shuri, a genuine smile lighting up her face as she happily receives the warm cheers and hugs.

the music is cutting off, the flashing lights dimming, just as you planned, before the double-tier cake is brought into the room and placed on the big table in the centre, the cheers from the club are steady as you go to grab shuri’s hand, pulling her to take her seat in front of the cake as you stand beside her seated figure.

a bashful smile spreads across her lips when everyone starts singing for her, her arm shooting out towards you at the giggle you let out at the sight, pulling you to sit on her lap before her warm hands slide up the skin of your thighs, coming to rest heavily just before the hem of your skirt, her long fingers falling between the crevice of your legs as if they belonged there.

⤠

shuri’s the life of the party, the crowd circled around her as she dances, the people moving with her, and her energy is plausible, raising the energy of the crowd around her to where everyone was having an unforgettable time alongside their queen. you smile fondly, shifting slightly on the barstool before lifting the sweet cocktail to your lips, sliding your eyes to the busy bartender to resume the conversation you were having with him, a light laugh slipping through you at his joking words.

five minutes of back and forth chatting pass before strong arms circle around your waist, shuri’s head coming to rest along your shoulder before she hums, using her strength to firmly pull you off your seat, your hand coming to rest over hers as you startle, your drink forgotten on the bar. her sharp eyes, unbeknownst to you, cut harshly at the man before you, the sheer authority flowing through her causing his gaze to lower as he clears his throat.

“dance with me, my love.”

she’s already pulling you towards the dance floor, the crowd parting for her as she walks with you in tow, choosing a darker spot in the space before she spins you around, letting go of your hand to slide both her hands under the loose fit of your top and settle them on the heated skin of your waist. her head dips to where her curls skim over your neck as she pulls you closer, pressing your hips against her, then her hands are guiding you to whine against her slowly but firmly, your breath catching at the way she manhandled you as if she owned you.

the thought makes you chastise yourself, you were friends, that’s it, but it doesn’t stop the clenching of your thighs when her wandering hands travel your moving form; the right sliding further up to rest just below the band of your bra, the entirety of her palm pressing over the rise of your heaving ribs while the left hand slid down the front of you, over the top of your thigh, where it pauses over your skirt, the firm press causing the hem to rise.

the placement makes you gasp, and shuri feels it under her grip, feels you, and it tempts her, you tempt her. she shifts her hanging head to where her lips can skim over your sweet skin, her mouth parting against your exposed collarbone causing your head to tilt, wanting more of her. that makes the taller girl insatiable, and calls forward the predator within her, she can hear the depth of your breath, feel the pump of your blood under her fingertips, smell the desire you have for her, and it makes the panther purr in response.

and before you can blink, shuri’s pulling you through the crowd and out of the club. when you come out of the daze she spun you into, you’re already seated in the passenger seat of her car, and your jaw is dropping in disbelief, as she drives off. “shuri!” you screech, “you can’t just leave your own fucking party like that!” and the sound makes her laugh, and shake her head before she responds, her voice cocky and low.

“i do what i want, s’thandwa.”

the words dry up your throat, the effortless air of dominance surrounding her permeating your skin, unconsciously coaxing you to submit to her, and you let your lips part before letting out an awkward chuckle. the heat inside of you scratches at your lungs, making it hard for you to breathe, shuri smirks before she parks in front of the palace, seeing a second car pull up beside them that she ignores; stepping out to pull you towards her chambers.

“ayo and aneka, you’re dismissed for the night. y/n will be retiring with me.” she calls the words over her shoulder, using what you always tease as her 'queen voice'.

the heat rushes to your face as you continue your journey, your sleeping with her wasn’t uncommon nor was it new, but the implications of the words always embarrassed you, because all you ever did was sleep. to foreign ears though, it sounded like she was on her way to tear you apart, to completely ravage you in the time you spent together behind those closed doors.

your train of thought is interrupted when shuri’s bedroom door clicks closed behind you, the girl kicking off her shoes before kneeling to slide off yours, her hands gentle as she manoeuvres you by your calves, her fingers working to slide the shoes off and you place your hand on her shoulder to steady yourself.

when she rises, she makes sure to follow the length of your legs, a gasp cutting through the atmosphere as the movement of her hands causes a slight lift of your skirt before it drops again when her hands come to hold your triceps, and she’s standing upright. she’s not letting your gaze leave hers as she walks you by your arms to her bed, and you follow, follow her like a lost puppy. the pulse between your legs intensifies when she gently pushes you onto her soft silk sheets.

you’re giggling lightly at her cheeky smile, her lithe figure throwing itself atop you before her arms come to split your legs as she settles between them. her head is against your chest as you lift your hands to the soft coils of her hair, and shuri lets out a satisfied sigh. the atmosphere is comfortable as you play with her hair, her head is laid sideward on your chest so shuri can listen to the steady beat of your heart, and she finds herself quickly agreeing with the panther inside her when she deems it to be the sound of their home.

although, as time passes shuri begins to get restless, so words flow out of her mouth to distract herself, “thank you for tonight, s’thandwa, you know you didn’t have to go all out like that for me.” her hands tighten their hold on you in gratitude, bast, what would she do without you. your chest shakes lightly in a fond giggle, your lips parting in protest, “nuh-uh, i had to go all out for the person i love, please be so serious, and don't thank me, babe.” when your laugh quietens down, you fondly add to your tender words.

 “anything for the birthday girl.”

and the words jar her, suddenly, the heat of your body against her, the thrum of your heart in her ears, and the softness of your skin underneath her has her feeling absolutely primal, itching to claim you. she exhales as she slides up against you bringing her face to rest in the dip of your neck as she breathes you in, the action making you gasp lightly causing your hand to slide gently to hold the back of her neck, the other dropping to hold your rising skirt down.

there’s a pause before she’s humming, “you smell good.” another pause, then her lips are sliding across your skin, her mouth parting so she can taste you, murmuring into your skin, “so fucking good, baby.”

the gasp of her name is loud, and you’re instinctively bringing your two hands to grip her shoulders tightly, trying to ignore the heat of her coiling muscles under her thin shirt, your legs clenching around her hips, “we shouldn’t, shuri.”

your words are breathy, unconvincing even to yourself and the dripping wetness between your legs. her lips continue their trail against your neck, your head tilted to allow her to continue, and her rough hands tighten around your thighs, spreading you further open for her before her words seep into your pliant body.

“it’s my birthday, baby.” the words ignite the heat inside you. “you gonna let me touch my pretty girl?” and it has your mind spinning, your nails digging into the silk of her shirt as she sucks your skin into her mouth, “let me, baby, please?” the raw need in her voice has your head nodding aggressively, your hips bucking up into her as you whimper.

she pulls her face back to look into your eyes and her face is serious as she stares into you, “need you to use those words for me, baby.” you’re gasping out pleas that make her hum, before she's sliding her hands down your quivering thighs, her torso lifting off of you as she grips under your knees to gaze at the soaking lace between your thighs, letting out a deep groan at the sight.

“that’s my good fucking girl.”

you shy away as she looks at you, she’s soaking up the sight of you so deeply that it forces you to shut your eyes as you whine, long and needy, your head turning to bury your face in the sheets that smell like her, your legs failing to close around the grip she has on you.

the sight of her stubborn, headstrong, and independent friend whom she’s, quite frankly, in love with, being so meek and pliant under her has shuri’s own core clenching, a taunting laugh escaping her lips as she finally slides down the bed to lay on her stomach, her head between your legs.

“look at me, y/n.”

her hands rip the dainty material around your hips, and it makes you momentarily clench your eyes even tighter, fisting the sheets beside your head before you reluctantly flutter your eyes open, your hips bucking when you catch the sight of shuri between your legs. she's gazing at you so erotically it makes your cheeks burn with blood, your body clenching tightly with embarrassment as you force yourself to breathe deeply.

“want you to watch me while i eat my pretty baby’s pussy for my birthday, okay?”

the words make you moan, your thighs are straining against her hands that press on either side of your exposed heat, and she’s holding your thighs open as she licks her lips, the action making you burn, and you’re crumbling under the humiliation coursing through you. your eyes are stuck on hers as if you’re in a trance, her tongue sliding out before she glides the muscle across the entirety of your pussy, letting out a tortured groan that has you clenching hard, a loud moan punching through your chest.

your hips are jerking into her tongue as she works through your seeping folds, devouring you tirelessly, and it makes it difficult for you to breathe. your stomach clenching tight as you bring your hands to her hair, your head dropping back as you arch further into her mouth, murmuring incoherently.

“please, please, oh my god, please.”

your hips are canting against her lips, her tongue sliding over your clit making you cry out loudly, the coil in your lower stomach tightening as you gasp wetly, then shuri’s pulling her mouth away from you, her arm coming to press your hips into the mattress when they chase her, halting your movements.

“i thought i told you to keep your eyes on me, princess?”

her words are warning, slicing through your dazed state as you snap your head up quickly finding her eyes on you, “there we go.” she coos the words out, her hand sliding over your clit before circling the ring of your clenching entrance and you’re begging her to touch you and it makes feel shuri high, feeds her alter’s predatory nature.

she slides her long fingers into you, her pace hard but controlled as she thrusts in and out of your warm walls, groaning before she sinks back down to wrap her pretty lips around your pulsing clit, and the action has your breath stuttering. your body tightens again before shuri brushes roughly against your spot, her lips suckling your bud as she hums into you, and you’re crying out as you orgasm, your legs trembling as you arch your back.

shuri’s whispering praises into your spasming pussy, her fingers still slowly pushing through you, carving her place inside you, inside her pussy and the thought makes her purr, her pace slowly picking up, and you whimper. your hips chasing her fingers and she chuckles at how needy you were being, “can’t, c-can’t, please.” your voice is wet with tears, and her voice is soft as she coos at you lovingly.

“thought you said anything for the birthday girl, baby?”

your hips desperately chase her now still fingers, unconsciously using them to pleasure yourself and shuri’s grunting as she slides her eyes along your figure, “fuck, that’s right, use my fingers to make my greedy pussy come, s’thandwa.”

her words spur you on, the tears trailing down your cheeks as you chase another release, your thighs trembling violently as shuri just watches you, watches how you use her and her eyes are sharp, glaring at your dripping cunt as you clench around her. she sighs before lifting her free hand to press against your lower stomach, then her fingers are unrelenting, ruthlessly dragging against your sensitive walls, hitting the tissue inside you over and over again.

“i’m coming, i’m coming, shuri, please, don’t stop.”

your voice breaks around the words as you sob out, the ball in your stomach releasing so heavily that your body jerks aggressively, your breathing heavy as shuri soothes your cries, dropping gentle kisses along your quivering thighs, squeezing your skin to bring you back to her. she lifts herself to peck your parted lips, her teeth digging repeatedly into the soft pillow of your bottom lip as she waits for you to calm down, humming at the taste of you, and the slight pinches of pain make you whimper softly.

“bast, baby, you make me so wet.”

her words are breathed into your mouth, and they make you so warm, the idea that someone so powerful was dripping because of you, when you hadn’t even touched her, the notion makes you gasp. “can i touch you?” your voice is shaky, and so needy, that it makes shuri exhale heavily before she rolls to lie beside you, her hand reaching for the thigh of your leg furthest from her, to bend it across her lap, pulling you to press against her side.

your heart is pounding as she reaches for your hand, guiding it down her tense stomach before she lowly orders you to unbutton her pants, your trembling fingers comply before she grabs your wrist gently and slips it past the band of her underwear to rest directly on her wet pussy. and you gasp so hard, your body bucking against her when you feel just how wet she was for you. the lithe girl lets out a soft sigh as she brings her head to your neck, her breath fanning against your ear as she guides your fingers through her.

“just like that, baby.”

her voice is breathy, low, and so soft, that it makes you clench, your fingers slipping to circle her clit, desperate to hear more from her and she moans out in response, her hand just gripping your wrist, no longer guiding you. she’s breathing heavily into your neck as you increase your pace, drawing tight figure eights along her, the sweet, breathy noises falling from her prompting you to slide your fingers to her entrance and she stills when you press against her opening. your voice is soft as you shyly ask her, “is this okay?”

in response, shuri’s hips buck against your fingers, and her words are needy in your ears, “please, baby.”

the fire in your chest burns brighter before you’re slipping your digits into her warmth in response to her breathy plea, her walls clenching around you when you go to thrust gently in and out of her and shuri’s moaning out, her slim hips canting to the steady rhythm of your thrusts and the sight makes you unbelievably horny.

when you add another finger and angle them upwards, the panther’s hips stutter as she wetly gasps around your name. her head lifting as she brings her stagnant hand to curl around your throat, bringing your gaze to hers as she pants against your parted lips.

“that’s it, make me come, baby, please.”

shuri’s pleads are light, breathed softly into the air but still commanding, and it makes your aching pussy clench, how was someone so deadly so soft against you, bathing in the throes of her pleasure so gently. you increase your pace, making sure to graze her soft spot with each deep stroke you give, and then her body is stilling.

her mouth lets out the loudest moan you’ve heard from her, one that contrasts so greatly with the rasp of speech, her voice is deep and heavy as she switches to her native tongue, speaking the words into your mouth, “ndiyaphila, s’thandwa sam’ (i'm coming, my love.).”

her shaking thighs close around your working hand as she shakes through her orgasm and the sight makes you whimper, your hand only stopping when she grunts and tightens her grip on your wrist, sliding your hand out of her pants before clenching her thighs tightly again.

her shut eyes flutter open to gaze intensely at you when you’re being too quiet, her mouth dropping open when she sees you bring your fingers to your lips, sucking them clean gently with a hum before releasing them with a soft pop, startingly when you open your eyes and meet her blazing eyes.

the queen’s eyes close to gather the last strands of her self-control before she breathes out heavily, “fuck, you want to kill me, princess.”

then you’re squealing as she throws herself onto you, her arms wrapping tightly around your waist as she pushes your bodies to lay on her bed, pressing you tightly against her as you giggle, shifting to snuggle against her; not worried about your party clothes, nor about the volume of your laughs – just existing with each other and basking in your shared love.

do i blow you away? do i stimulate your mind? would you taste my love, if i gave you time?

ஜ

#pinkwrighting ⊹ ۪ ᖭི༏ᖫྀ. #shuri udaku #shuri x black!reader #letitia wright #shuri smut #shuri fluff #shuri x you #black panther #shuri black panther #black panther wakanda forever #shuri angst #shuri x reader #shuri imagine #shuri x y/n

[cowgurrrl]

“I want to be great or nothing.”

Summary: When world famous rockstar Joel Miller finds himself in some hot water with the press, his PR team suggests fake dating an up and coming actress to refine his image. However, when they actually start spending time together, the happy couple can’t stand each other. Will they be able to turn it around for the cameras or will it all be for nothing?

Warnings: smut indicated with an asterisk, tlou au, fake dating, enemies to ???, Sarah is alive :D

01. Smile You’re on Camera [1.7k]

02. When The Sun Goes Down [2.6k]

03. BWFW [3.8k]

04. Kiwi [3.8k]

05. A plea for tenderness* [7.3k]

06. Blueberry Pancakes* [4.5k]

07. Losing My Cool [1.1k]

08. Never Thought [3.5k]

09. Layla [2.3k]

10. Pine Point [4.7k]

11. Old Friends Die Hard [3.6k]

12. Too Close [2.5k]

13. The Chain [2.6k]

14. From the Dining Table [4.5k]

15. Wonderfully Bizarre [1.2k]

🎸🎸🎸

Drabbles

A Soulmate Who Wasn’t Meant to Be: You settle into life without Joel

Night Shift: Joel settles into life without you

Tennessee Whiskey: A (somewhat) quiet night as you and Joel adjust to sharing life again

Thank God I Found You: You and Joel talk about going public with your relationship

Gold Dust Woman: Oscars season with Joel

The Actress: Red carpet interviews with Joel

Je te laisserai des mots: You and Joel realize forever doesn’t sound too bad

I Want To Marry You: Joel asks you The Question

Kiss Me Once, and Kiss Me Twice: You and Joel get married

Heavy Metal Drummer: When Joel’s drummer suddenly drops out, who better to fill in than the girl who’s been there since the beginning?

Just A Boy: Joel struggles with your newest cast mate

Small Bump: You tell the girls you’re pregnant

Beautiful Boy: You and Joel find out the gender of your baby

Hayloft: Joel being protective of his family

Choreomania: Sammy tries to figure out if he likes what his dad does

Brooklyn Baby: You and Joel welcome your son

Iris: Sarah and Ellie hold Sam for the first time

Hey Me, Hey Mama: Mother’s Day

Jackie and Wilson: A night in the Miller household

Little Wonders: When Mom Guilt takes over, Joel finds a way to support you

Mama’s Boy: Sam’s going through a phase

Daydream Believer: Daisy seems to know something you don’t

As It Was: You and Joel have an announcement

At Last: Sam doesn’t seem to know the difference between real life and acting

Daylight: An almost perfect Texas day with the Millers

Yo Gotti: You and Joel read thirst tweets together

Beautiful Girls: Your first night at home with your twins

Love You: Joel being the best dad to tiny baby angels

How Could I Not Love You?: A special day

Unknown: You find out Violet has asthma

I’m Still Standing: Actors on Actors: You and Carolina Garcia-Long

My Girls: The first of many Sophia and Violet days

Lucky: The girls are going through a phase

Girls On Film: Joel accidentally starts discourse

I’m Just Ken: A Halloween fashion show with the Millers

Live from New York: You and Joel take on SNL

Please Come Home for Christmas: The Christmas season with the Millers

Wildflower and Barley: Jealous joel

Bug: The BuzzFeed Puppy Interview

Salad Days: The t-shirt coup

The Millers: A Year in The Life: A documentary about your lives

So This Is Love: A Beach Day

Good Old Days: A SAG-AFTRA Career Retrospective

🎸🎸🎸

Extras 🤠

Joel and sundress season*

Dancing with Joel

Your instagram story 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11

ACL with the Millers

Joel’s tattoos

You and Joel find out you’re having a baby

Your reaction to questions about kids

Family headcanons

Random thoughts 1

Random thoughts 2

Honeymoon with Joel

Actress!reader freaking out about Joel on Instagram

Talking about your relationship with Joel

Sammy Insta posts

Family instagram posts

Sophia and Violet

Birthday headcanons

What the kids do later in life

Text threads :D 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

The kids’ instagrams

Grandpa Joel

Grandpa Joel pt. 2

Instagram stories: Barbie edition

Random family thoughts

#one for the money two for the show #the last of us #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel tlou #the last of us x reader #joel miller the last of us #the last of us au #the last of us fluff #Joel au #joel the last of us #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fluff

[forever-rogue]

Eddie Munson - Masterlist

Below are all requests/prompts/drabbles for the best boy ever. The list will be updated as things are put out!

Request Guidelines

Main Masterlist

* = explicit

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──

First Kiss

Unexpected

Jealousy 

Care Of

Tease *

Forever Sounds Good

Fake Date

Quiet Love

In Which Eddie Drives You Crazy

Teach Me *

You’re Cute When You’re Mad (drabble)

Braiding Each Other’s Hair

You’re Cute

I’ll Watch Your Life in Pictures

Violent High

Safe

Honeysuckle Phonies

In Which Eddie is Sick

Honey Boy

With Feelings

Don’t Let the Light Go Out

Sugar Soaker

First Time *

Play with Fire

Clingy

Won’t You Be a Good Girl?

Different

Tolkien Nerd (modern!Eddie)

Need, Not a Want  (modern!Eddie)

Video Games (modern!Eddie) *

Pumpkin Spice (modern!Eddie)

Apple Picking

Birthday

A Hand That’s Loved Every Part of Me

Honey, Honey You’re My Favorite Drug

Prank War

Prom

Making out in a Graveyard

Throne *

Baby Daddy

Cuddles Please

Opposites

Dress Up

The Times Eddie Asks You to Marry Him

Rainy Daze

Birthday Boy

Roller Skating

Miscommunications

Coffee Girl & Coffee Thief

Rockstar & Pop Princess

Movie Night

Killer King

Slowly

Golden Retriever 

Hickies

Safe & Sound

Reunion 

Untouched 

Meet Your Neighbor

Argument

Snowfall

Nightmares

Scars

First Christmas

Set Up

Mistletoe Kisses

Misunderstanding

Memories

Brutal

Christmas with the Munsons

It’s Been a While

Meet the Family

Forgetful

Period

Overheard

Record Store

Heat

Out of Sync

Sneaking Around

Bad Assumption

Sick (but Still Stubborn)

Domestic Bliss

Trying

Touch

Safe Heart

Colorful

Loud

Get It Together

Pregnancy Reveal

A Life in Snapshots

Right Person, Wrong Time?

We’re Magic

Fuck Around (and Find Out)

Hello Neighbor

Happy Haunting

The One

Hello Neighbor ; Hello Neighbor 2

Almost Birthday Girl

Love Me

Insomnia

Technical Difficulties

Rough Day

Go Big or Go Home

Confidence

That’s Hot

You

Weekend Retreat

#masterlist #character masterlist #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #yeahhhh #[clown shoes squeaking] #i have no shame or regrets! #st #joseph quinn

[non-stop-imagines]

MEE RELEASE THE ARCHIVES BABE

Thank you for this. It kick started my creativity. I have soooo many WIPs that I'm excited to show you guys and my ideas need somewhere to land, so why not here.

I'm also gonna link this to my Masterlist so I can link the finished products to both and people are able to choose how they decide which fic to read.

(A bunch of barely coherent brainstorming under the cut 😚 And this apparently will be changing and updated whenever I think of it so keep checking back 💖)

Works in progress/ideas by driver:

Lewis Hamilton

- Something with the vibe of Angel of Mine by Monica because that song reminds me of him every time it comes on and I desperately want to try writing for Lewis again

Another song one. Ours by Taylor Swift. You both are very busy but very in love and will always make time for each other. No matter what.

Max Verstappen

Raincheck sneak peek here (Intense hatred between Max and the reader can only last so long.)

Big brother Max trying to help his sister out but is block by his father at EVERY TURN. (Tyla faceclaim and the request alone has me obsessed with her now. I absolutely love her.

Different things to add to Repeat That Au; Big sister, best friend and a lot of pregnancy talk (including something that links in the On Display Au courtesy of my ♥️ anon)

Lando Norris

Lando flirting with his PR manager who is a few years older.

Two words: Uncle. Lando.

Something to the song Making Whoopee by Frank Sinatra bc Lando seems like the type of guy to do anything for the girl he wants to fu k really badly. Wedding. Home. Baby. Whole nine yards. Big simp energy. The best type of energy

More from the Valentine Au because it's cute and I love it

Lance Stroll

Fake dating. We love when besties fake date and fall in love 😙

Oscar Piastri

Oscar loves his wife. Talks about her all the time. But no one knows they're married??? A little sneaky peek (that is barely put together):

"Your girlfriend is into astrology. I made the mistake of telling her my birthday." Lando spoke, twirling his flags, not seeing the extremely confused look Oscar was giving him.

"Girlfriend?" Lando looked up at his teammate and given him an equally confused face, believing his comment was quite clear.

"Uh, yeah? Yn?" Lando was so matter of fact, and yet had no idea how wrong he was.

"Yn's my wife. We're married."

"BUT YOU'RE BABIES!?"

"YOU'RE TWO YEARS OLDER THAN US!

More for Girl Almighty bc we have to see how the reader and Oscar do driving against each other

Charles Leclerc

Cocoa Butter Kisses-Charles is mesmerizing by your everything shower routine and how good you smell when you're done

Rockstar-undercover soft girl-reader; another smutty one; just gotta figure out the direction I was to take it

Wedding Night-Self explanatory;smut and aftercare (almost done with the smut, just gotta do the aftercare)

More stuff from My Biggest Fan Au bc who doesn't love Charles and Gianna 🥹

Something to I Wish by 1D with Pierre. You and Charles are literally the perfect couple. The entire way through. (See the ideas for Pierre for his part in the plot)

Logan Sargeant

Thanksgiving with the Fam and our very own Mr. America gets to experience a black Thanksgiving (yes I did get that suggestion right after Thanksgiving. Let's not talk about that 😔)

Something with the vibe of Wouldn't it be Nice by The Beach Boys bc apparently I think Logan is the purest little boy on the grid and just wants to live a happy life with his girlfriend

Carlos Sainz

More for Mírame Au (stay tuned bc there will come a time where I open request for suggestions for this 😚)

Esteban Ocon

Man's will be pining for Lewis' personal assistant and it will become a viral F1 moment.

Daniel Ricciardo

Reader can't stand sisters new boyfriend, and Daniel can't stand the fact that his girlfriends identical twin sister hates him, but feelings change, just not for the better

Handled: The Backstory (How reader and Daniel meet and fall for each other 😚) yes it will be smutty

Something based off the song "Would You Go with Me" because it is very Daniel and I don't know how to explain it

What do you think the opposite of On Display would be? (Hint: jealous Danny 😚)

More for On Display, but I might make her an OC to make another fic suggestion (look under Max ideas) a bit easier to write.

Fernando Alonso

Fernando and reader are literally each other's muse, he talk about her all the time and he inspires and entire album (and makes his music video debut)

Fernando gets some plants to impress reader; now he the plant dad to her plant mom and it's an inside jokes between family and friends

Fernandos favorite pass time is picking the readers hair color

Sebastian Vettel

Sebastian only wants one thing: For everyone to know how much he loves his ballerina girlfriend. Another little sneak peek (that, again, is just barely put together):

"Yes. You are in the presence...of the first...black Sugar Plum Fairy for the New York City Ballet." Your cheeks were sore from smiling, but nothing could dull your shine right now. Your friends that were hovering around you finally crowd around and give you tight loving squeezes, greeting Sebastian on your phone and bragging on your accomplishment.

"Sebastian! How does it feel to be dating the best principal dancer in the history of the New York City Ballet?" Your friend, Julia, hooks her arms over your shoulders and presses her mouth to your temple.

"I'm just glad I get to be her boyfriend. That's my title now. Sebastian Vettel, boyfriend Yn, New York City Ballett Principal Dancer and first black NYCB Sugar Plum Fairy.

Pierre Gasly

Introducing new OC!Eve (Chloe Bailey faceclaim);my way of introducing the readers sister into the Repeat That Au; we get to start off with a small backstory

I Wish-1D; Pierre's got it BAD. Go listen to the song. His POV is the song. It's heartbreaking and I love it so much. Probably one of the first fics that doesn't have a happy ending.

Maxiel

Trying get someone to buy you and Daniel a drink goes wrong

#i didnt mean to post this when i did #but here we are #formula 1 #black reader #f1 imagines #formula 1 x black!reader #f1 x black!reader #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #lewis hamilton #lance stroll #logan sargeant #lando norris #oscar piastri #esteban ocon #fernando alonso #sebastian vettel #pierre gasly

[zmb1eslut]

Masterlist

Luke Castellan singing a birthday song for Dionysus!reader.

gn!reader but the song talks in fem.

warnings: swearing.

Agreed, birthday parties were the second worst kind of parties, just after baby showers, and just as long as they're yours. But even the worst party was still a party and dam you loved those.

Maybe a bit of the attention too.

So it kinda sucked that after putting on your special person suit you got to face a normal routine where no one cared more than the occasional "happy birthday". It was just going to be normal thursday.

Except for Luke, apparently. He entered the dining pavilion at exactly 8:12 AM while you were just sitting down with your breakfast. He had a microphone, connected to a sort of boombox that he just left somewhere in the floor when Charlie came with a guitar and handed it to him.

Saturday mornin' jumped outta bed.

You instantly cringed. Luke didn't even knew how to play guitar (He learnt those chords just for you).

And put my best suit

He even looked so smug about it, looking down at his literally every day clothes.

Got in my car and raced like a jet.

Fuck, he made eye contact with you. You instantly turned around to the side, finding your father on the process, who seemed rather annoyed with the live show. But slowly you couldn't help but look again at his dorky act.

All the way to you.

No. Stop. Stay the fuck there. He was literally walking straight to you. Charlie following him now with the boombox and everyone looking, not quite making fun of him, not quite impressed about it all.

He put his hand on the Dionysus table, and then it dawned on you.

Knocked on your door with heart on my hand.

He wasn't walking towards you.

To ask you a question.

Your godly parent wished, for a moment, he had perished more than centuries ago, afar from the torturous instances that immortality day to day proved to offer.

He groaned and drowned his face on both his palms.

'Cause I know you are an old fashioned man.

There was something about a shameless idiot being able to have such a characteristically attractive smirk on him while performing the most humiliating act of his life, and taking you on his ride with no agreement of sny sort.

Oh, shit. Please don't.

He got on the fucking table.

Can I have your daughter for the rest of my life?

You could no longer fight it, you started to smile. You could no longer pretend you weren't listening to this song when you were 12, envy of the fact someone loved that way, maybe even hoping to be understood some day. You couldn't pretend you never felt as special as being completely socially annihilated by the cutest swordsman on camp.

Say yes. Say yes, 'cause I need to know.

He was actually really playing into the teenage pop-rockstar choreography and expression, as if it wasn't a terribly sung acoustic cover.

You say I'll never get your blessing 'til the day I die.

Maybe you also loved knowing his reputation was way to good for your father to actually be able to took it out on him and give him a lesson for ruining his morning.

Tough luck my friend but the answer is no!

Some people started to laugh, some people started to cheer him.

Until he stopped, and crouched to give the guitar to Charlie, who handed him the microphone.

"I couldn't learn the chorus for the life of me"

And he played the karaoke version.

Why you gotta be so rude?

Don't you know I'm human too?

Why you gotta be so rude?

I'm gonna marry her anyway.

It was funny in a way because Luke was... not even your boyfriend, or friend for that matter, just a sort of a pleasant stranger. He just greeted you sometimes, helped you a bit on your archery class. He'll sometimes tie your shoes when you didn't wanna bend down, or gave you notes when you were rehearsing for a play. Probably the closer you ever got were those times he would just purposefully mess up your hair when you were chatting with your friends and maybe that one time he... Oh.

I hate to do this, you leave no choice, can’t live without you.

And that's when he finally stopped bothering Mister D, right before looking at you and freezing you on a childish emotion.

Love me or hate me, we will be both standin’ at that altar.

It didn't felt much like a threat. Not even when he pulled you a little closer.

Or we will run away to another galaxy, you know.

Can we? fucking brown eyes taking the best of you.

You know that I am so in love with you, I'll go anywhere you go.

And you realized that's not even how the song goes, before he twirled you around.

Can I just be honest? Have a speck of your time?

Say yes. Say yes. Promise I'll be good.

'Cause really I feel you takin every bit of my mind.

And I must say, I think that it's love.

And he stopped singing, the music kept running for a couple counts more before Charlie turned it off. You were just looking at each other, him being considerably more nervous than you, though he did tried to hide it and you not quite so.

Your silence went for too long and he had to break it first.

"Happy birthday?"

And that made you laugh before you caught him on a giddy hug of excitement. He looked at Charlie from over your shoulder, he couldn't believe that shit actually worked.

#pjo tv show #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson series #pjo #I wrote this faster than anything else on my life.

[be-with-me-so-happily]

hows my babies doing??? i miss themmmm <3

Eeeeek! It makes me so happy when someone misses and asks about EWTNC Harry and Stylist YN! I love them so much! So here's a little update.

~~~~~

Photo credits to the owners.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY HARRY

Harry hears the bedroom door creak open, keeping his eyes closed and pretending to still be asleep. He can hear the giggles getting closer, and feels the bed shift as two little bodies try to subtly crawl up on top.

"Quietly, okay?" You whisper. "One... two... th-"

"Happy Birthday, Daddy!"

"Hap Bir-day, Daddy!"

Harry pops up in the bed, and turns over to see Winnie grinning, Milo picking at a booger, and you holding a cup of tea, and placing it on the bedside table next to him.

"My goodness! Thank you, my loves!" He exclaims. He grabs both of his children into his arms and tackles them on the bed, causing a burst of laughter.

"Ah! Daddy! No!" Winnie exclaims, her eyes squeezed shut and her smile stretching across her face.

You can't help but feel your chest fill with warmth as you watch them all interact. Doesn't matter what they're doing, if it's together, you always feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude and joy.

"Alright you three, time to get up."

"No…" Harry whines, quickly matched by the children.

"Okay, I guess I'll just head to the kitchen and eat all of the delicious birthday breakfast by myself then." You state, slowly turning around as you pretend that your intention is to walk away.

"Oh no you don't!" You hear behind you, as you feel Harry grasp your wrist, twisting you around and pulling you onto the bed. Winnie and Milo quickly pounce, using their little fingers and giving their best efforts to tickle your sides. You glance over to Harry, being met with a look of pure admiration, and he gives you a sweet smile.

"You win! I surrender!" You throw up your hands and they maneuver off you, giggling at their victory. "How about we have that breakfast now."

Winnie and Milo hop off the bed, and you watch as they shuffle out of the room. You turn back to Harry, who still has that same beautiful look on his face, and you sit up on top of the sheets.

"Happy Birthday, Rockstar." You reach your hand up to his cheek and lean in for a kiss. "Who would have thought that the boy in bandanas would be a husband and dad at twenty-nine! Feel old yet?"

"No, just lucky."

A blush forms on your cheeks and you still don't understand how he can manage to do that to you, after over eight years of being with him.

"Alright, you sap, let's get out of bed before they make a mess."

You grab his hand to pull him up off the bed, but he lets out a low growl, pulling you back down and shifting his body to hover over you.

His short curls fall into his face, his necklaces hang down in front of you, and his lips meet your neck. That same spot that he knows so well.

"Maybe later we can get back into bed and make a mess of our own."

"You need to-" You take a quick breath, as he seems to have taken it out of you. "You need to focus. You've got a show to put on tonight."

"Oh, I can definitely give you a show."

"Harry!" You exclaim with a chuckle, weakly attempting to push him off of you, though not much of your strength is put behind your effort.

"It's my birthday…" He replies, lowering his entire body onto yours, and you wish you could give him exactly wants. And, frankly, what he deserves. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling his face closer for a deep, passionate, and lustful kiss, causing him to let out that low growl once again.

One of his hands squeezes your hip, pressing his own into you, and you let out a quiet moan. At this point, you don't care how the kitchen looks, you just want to look at him, like this.

However, you both pull apart as soon as you hear a little yelp from Milo and Winnie instantly telling him that she is sorry. You sigh, feeling the heat between your legs and the bulge between Harry's. He gives you one last, quick kiss and then moves off of you.

You scoot off of the bed and swiftly turn around, meeting his gaze, showing that he hadn't taken his eyes off of you.

"To be continued." You quietly tease, and his eyes widen along with a grin.

"Well, Happy Birthday to me!"

~~~~~

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"You don't like it?" He dramatically hits his palm against his chest as his mouth drops open, knowing full well that you love his outfit, considering the way your eyes are traveling up and down his body. "Winnie helped pick it out. I think she's following in her mummy's footsteps."

"Mhm." You hum, still running your gaze all over his body, focusing on his bare, toned, tattooed chest, that you wish you could lick all over.

"Sunshine, I've worn stuff like this before…" Harry chuckles, stepping forward and placing his hands on your hips.

"I know. There's just something about it tonight…" You reply, letting out a breath you didn't even realize you had been holding. Even after all of this time, after the thousands of outfits you've seen him in, and styled him in, he still somehow manages to take your breath away. You look up to him, placing your hands on his chest and running them down his smooth skin. "But… I have to say… I do prefer you in your birthday suit."

"Fucking hell, YN." He whimpers, leaning down to take your bottom lip between his teeth. "Already ripped one pair of pants on stage… I'm not 'bout to go out there with m'dick standing straight out!"

"Right… it's a family show…" You smirk, leaning up to place a kiss on his earlobe. "But it won't be tonight."

"Oh my god." He mumbles under his breath.

"Daddy! Daddy!" You suddenly hear Winnie's little voice coming from the hallway and Harry gives you a quick kiss on the lips before stepping back and swiftly adjusting himself. Then he looks over and gives you a smile with so many meanings. Lust, adoration, maybe a little disappointment, but also happiness in its purest form.

"I love you, Sunshine." He utters.

"I love you too, Rockstar."

Winnie comes through the doorway, rushing over to the two of you, with Milo trying to keep up behind her. "Look what Milo found for you!"

Milo moves in front of his sister, with his hands in front of him, holding the blue balloon that the two of you clearly spotted as soon as he walked in.

"This is for me, Bub?" Harry asks, kneeling down to his son, who hands him the string.

"Ba-woon, Daddy!"

"It's for your birthday!" Winnie squeals, with just as much excitement as Milo, showing off some pride for her younger brother.

"Thank you, darlings! I love it!" Harry expressed, with a smile as wide as theirs, and his heart full of joy. He looks up to you, smiling with all the love he can portray through just an expression, and then wraps Winnie and Milo into a big hug. "And I know exactly what m'gonna do with it."

~~~~~

Series Masterlist

~~~~~

Overall Taglist: @watermelonsugacry @tw1nflamebruis3 @hopefulwastelandcreation @tenaciousperfectionunknown @that-daydream-look @queenmadi2 @runway-to-my-aid @theekyliepage @be-yourss @b-reads-things @behindmygreyeyes @michellekstyles @a-strange-familiar @yousunshineyoutempter @buckybarnessimpp @sarcas-latte @msolbesg @sleutherclaw @katiebaxterrrrrr @percysaidnever @thatbitch2828 @mrspeacem1nusone @thurhomish @harrystylesrecs @vickiii17 @itsbebeyyy @divalovesyou @bxbyysstuff @jessitpwk @sunshinemoonsposts @theroosterswife24 @boybands-baseball @austynparksandpizza @missmielyhoran @harryspirate @qualitygiantshoepsychic @tiaamberxx @matildasatellite @fool4him @cherryshouse @yatebe-kohayu @perfectzinenerdperson @babyiamperfectforyou @daphnesutton @around1302 @daydreamingofmatilda @swiftmendeshoran

If your name is blue, I couldn't tag you.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles series #harry styles story #harry styles writing #harry styles concept #harry styles x tour crew #harry styles x stylist #harry styles x stylist!yn #stylist!yn #harry styles x yn #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles tour #one direction tour #one direction crew #harry styles love on tour #hslot residencies #harry styles hs1 #harry styles fine line #harrys house #hslot palm springs #harry styles imagine #harry fic #ewtnc series #even when the night changes

[prettyjunk]

✮ restless and wild ✮

paring: duff mckagan x reader

warning: nsfw/+18.

summary: you’re waiting for your boyfriend to come backstage after his show, and he can’t keep his hands off you.

a/n: a little duff smut since it was his birthday yesterday!! hehe

requests are open <3

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧

Ever since the tour started; you didn’t know what to expect.

In reality, you never knew what to expect since you got yourself in a committed relationship with a rockstar, specially one that’s just starting to arise in the perils rock n roll. Duff Mckagan was like a ball of energy— so eager and ready to trash every place he went even if he hadn’t gotten sleep in days.

And you watched him go from stage to stage; city to city, sunglasses hiding the fact that he was sleep deprived and the booze in his system convinced him that he was as fresh as day 1. But he looked happy, genuinely proud of where he was standing. And so were you— it was an honor to be able to be by his side on this unforgettable experience, and give him as much support as you could, in any way he would take it from you.

As of now, you found yourself waiting on a little room for your boyfriend to randomly appear through the door.

This private dressing rooms were a privilege; they weren’t guaranteed. You both had seen everything while traveling around the us— from sharing a big room with all 5 members to having a space that felt like a full house to yourselves— so you were grateful to have a space for yourself and Duff. A few minutes ago you heard Axl scream his goodbye to the crowd as the show finished, an alarm that warned you you were soon to receive a sweaty tall guy on your door.

And there he was.

“Babe!” Duff kicked his way into the room, allowing all the noise in with him. He looked per usual; hair as messy as it could get, barely any clothes on, smile on his face.

You smiled sweetly at him, standing up from the couch to greet him. “Hi baby!”

He was quick to set his bass aside and give you a kiss, grabbing you by your face and trying to lift you up, making you stand on your tippy-toes. Almost immediately he deepened the kiss, not letting you go when you tried to separate yourself from him. You laughed into his mouth, causing him to smirk. The kiss was equal parts sweet and needy— just like him.

Duff walked backwards to shove his back not so carefully towards the door, closing it and lowering himself down to you. “Good show?” You asked when he slightly slowed the kiss to breathe.

“As always. amazing” He said, going back to what he was doing. You grabbed his hands to guide him to the couch that was next to the both of you, sitting besides him without breaking the kiss. “You always get me so distracted up there.”

“Hm?” You mewled, wanting him to emphasize.

Duff chuckled. “I can’t stop myself from thinking of you— ‘get all worked up over nothing.” You hummed into his mouth, breathing out when you felt his hands travel down your body. “I want you all the time, sweetheart. Every fuckin’ minute, I think of you like this.” He unbuttoned your shorts, swiftly slipping his fingers past your underwear to slide his fingers on your lips. “Aw. already wet? I bet you were thinkin’ of me too.”

You hid your moans inside his mouth; kissing him as a response to his rhetorical question while you gripped his sweaty chest. You were— of course you were, it would be a crime not to be constantly daydreaming about someone like duff. He was always in your mind, engraved. a blessing and a curse, right?

There was a few minutes of “silence”, obscene sounds being the only thing filling the space you shared while he had two fingers inside of you. Your kisses had gotten sloppier; his touch had become quicker.

“Duff..” You breathed out, looking at him with big puppy eyes, and he hummed. Not wanting to beg so soon; you grumbled.

He laughed as a response. “Shh, be calm. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Duff, please.” It is never too soon to start begging, actually. He found it hard to say no to you; he wasn’t mean. He just likes watching you squirm and beg a few times— hear the desperation on your trembling voice. Something that he caused.

So he shifted himself, and you quickly leaned back onto your elbows, waiting eagerly for him to do something— anything. He starts off slow; kissing all over your body from your neck to the hem of your shorts. He takes them off alongside your underwear and throws them into the air; you couldn’t bring yourself to take your lust filled eyes away from his. He kissed the inside of your thighs so softly, and never broke eye contact. Your thighs shook slightly; making him smirk while his lips trailed the way to the top of your mound.

You whined at his action, your patience running so thin you could cry. He’s made you cry before— more than once, just out of teasing. He makes you desire him as much as you possible can, overstimulating you with neediness until you’re begging in an almost humiliating way. And he finally eased your pain; starting to give mouth opened kisses to your cunt and your head fell back, surprised from the sudden action.

You bit your lips trying to suppress the loud noises that wanted to get out of them, and you felt him introduce two fingers again. “Don’t do that. I wanna hear your sweet noises, angel.”

You whined, shaking your head. “Everyone is gonna hear.”

“Let them.” He breathed against your clit, brushing his lips against it as he spoke. “Not the first time.” You heard a little chuckle and you rolled your eyes, embarrassment painting your cheeks a rosy color. The thought of the rest of the members of the band hearing your made you squeeze your eyes, and you unconsciously clenched around him. “Oh. You like that?” He teased as soon as he felt the sensation against his fingers. “I didn’t know that. You want them to hear how I’m making you feel? Want them to picture you coming all over my fingers, hm?”

You moaned as a response, bringing your hands to your tits to toy with your nipples as you felt that familiar sensation run through your body. And he noticed— he could read your body language expertly. The way you’d wince and throw your head back when you were about to cum. He adjusted himself and layed a hand on your tummy; pressing down.

You didn’t need to tell him anything, you both knew that you were close. And he enjoyed it too much; his dick had grown considerably harder this past few minutes and it wouldn’t stop twitching every-time he heard you. He rubbed himself against the couch— the sounds you make bring him too much pleasure and he can’t contain himself. You grabbed a handful of his bleached hair as you rode your high, moaning his name between mumbles and encapsulating his head between your thighs. No place he’d rather be.

He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t plan to, just wants to keep hearing you like this, for hours. And you jab at him— anything your hands can get, arching your back from the overwhelming sensation. “Duff— mmf— ‘S too much! Too much…” You whine, throwing your head back as you feel him eat you out like a starved man. He starts slowing down, only using his tongue to pleasure you now. He looks up at you; studying your face and your sobs as your chest quickly goes up and down. You put your hand on his cheek and pull him up to you, going for a kiss.

And he gladly accepts, kissing you slowly and sensually as you try and bring your breathing back to normal. Duff separates himself from you to put his two fingers he used in from of your lips, making you suck them clean as he watches awestruck.

“Atta girl.” He whispers. “Wouldn’t take you for an exhibitionist, you know.” Duff says when you’re done with his fingers, pulling them out of your mouth.

You roll your eyes, smiling, but slightly embarrassed. “Shut up. Heat of the moment, I guess.”

He lifts a brow. “‘Don’t think so.”

#wrote this in 20 minutes i’m so sorry #but im so thirsty for him #duff mckagan #duff mckagan smut #guns n roses smut #duff mckagan x reader #guns n’ roses #gnr