#my childhood home will still be standing in the two months when I come back to visit

[lunaflowers]

falling (chanyeol x reader)

pairing: step brother!chanyeol x reader word count: 2.8k+ genre: smut, angst warnings: slightly dom!chanyeol, slightly bratty!reader, pseudo incest, cowgirl position, dirty talk, some degradation, name-calling, hickeys, breeding kink, lots of angst synopsis: you've fallen in love with the one person you can't have author's note: this ended up being completely different than what it was meant to be but i hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless. unedited.

It was your first time visiting home since you’d moved out months ago to go to grad school. You’d missed the place. You were looking forward to sleeping in your childhood bed and eating your mom’s cooking and playing with your baby half-sister, Mimi. You were even looking forward to your step dad's diatribes on politics and the future of the country. The one thing you weren’t looking forward to was–

“Hey YN,” Chanyeol, your step brother, opened the door with a small smile on his face. He was currently serving in the military and had a couple days off to be at home. Chanyeol’s father had married your mother when the both of you were 16. He and his father had moved into the house you and your mother shared and although it was initially an adjustment, you were happy to see your mother so happy after such a long time. You’d never known your own father, being the product of a one-night stand during your mother’s younger, wilder years, and your stepfather seemed to balance out her somewhat flighty personality.

“Hey Chanyeol,” you said, a little uneasily. The only issue was your super hot, tall, stepbrother. As soon as you met Chanyeol the first time, you felt an immediate attraction to him. And he obviously felt the same as within a few weeks of him moving in all those years ago, the two of you had ended up in bed together, losing your virginities to each other.

As time went on, you and Chanyeol began having sex whenever your parents were out. Every single time you swore it would be the last time, but try as you might, you couldn’t resist him. It wasn’t just sex. Chanyeol was funny and sweet and jovial and just so much fun to be around. You didn’t understand how you were expected not to fall for him.

He pulled your luggage from your hand without asking and began to carry it to your room. You followed him, “Where’s my mom? And your dad?” The house was quiet, not bustling with activity the way it usually was with a toddler buzzing around.

“They took Mimi to her dentist appointment,” Chanyeol replied, putting your bag down beside your bed. Mimi was the sister that you and Chanyeol shared, a cherub-faced two-year-old who was excessively doted on by both her mother and her father. It was sweet, like they were both desperate to do the parenting thing right this time now that they had a partner to do it with. “They just left so they probably won’t be home for an hour or two.”

You nodded, trying to ignore the feeling in your gut. “Well, that’s a shame. I’ll just wait for them then, I guess.” You were being awkward, which wasn’t like you. But you felt awkward and you didn’t really know how to hide it. Spending time alone with Chanyeol was dangerous. You were your weakest self when you were with him.

“YN,” Chanyeol said suddenly, grabbing your hand. You froze, looking into his eyes for the first time since you got home. “Come on. Shouldn’t we talk?” He rubbed the back of your palm with his thumb, a familiar gesture. It was enough to make you feel slightly flustered.

“Chanyeol…” you let out shakily, “There isn’t really anything to talk about, is there? It’s wrong.” You tried to end it last time you saw him. Really end it. You figured that now that you were going off to school, putting considerable distance between the two of you, maybe it would stick. But it still didn’t seem to do so for him.

Chanyeol’s eyebrows furrowed. “Is it?” He pulled you in closer, moving his hand so that it was gripping your wrist now.

“Don’t do that. You know it is. Don’t start trying to justify it just because you’re horny and–”

“No. Don’t fucking demean it like that. I love you. I’m in love with you. We’re in love with each other.”

“Shut up!” you said shrilly, terrified that someone would hear even though you knew that the two of you were alone in the house. “It doesn’t matter what you say or what you feel because it’s wrong.” You emphasised the last word as though Chanyeol were a simpleton and you were losing your patience with him. “You’re my brother.”

“Step brother. We’re not related by blood. Besides, it’s what you feel too,” he shot back, pulling you in even closer now and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

You couldn’t help it. You put your hands on his chest. He just felt so solid and familiar and yours. He was your weakness and you’d never been particularly good at resisting temptation but you knew you needed to try.

“Loey, please,” you looked at him, tears beginning to form in your eyes. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is. I said last time that it couldn’t happen again. It’s not right.”

“You say that every time,” Chanyeol said, ignoring your pleas. He forced a kiss onto your lips and just like that, it was as though a switch had been flipped in you. You melted into him, kissing him back. It was so fucking easy for him to make you surrender to him and you would’ve been ashamed if you weren’t so overwhelmed with desire. 

He picked you up and you wrapped your legs around his waist automatically, keeping your lips attached to his, tasting his familiar taste. The want for each other was palpable. You wanted this as much as he did and you both knew it.

Chanyeol put you down on your bed and got on top of you, moving down as he kissed and bit your neck. You didn’t stop him. You wanted to be marked by him. You’d figure out how to cover up the hickies later but right now all you wanted was to be owned by him, to be filled with him, to be fucked senseless on his cock.

You let him pull your top up over your head and expertly unsnap your bra. He pulled it off, throwing it to the ground and then grabbed your breasts with both of his hands and buried his face in them. He began squeezing and kissing them, biting them, taking your nipples between his teeth. Chanyeol loved your breasts. They were easily his favourite part of your body and he was like a kid in a candy store anytime he got his hands on them.

“Loey, let’s make it quick, huh?” you smiled, biting your lip. Even though Chanyeol had said your parents wouldn’t be back for a while, you were still slightly nervous.

“Sorry, you’ve just got perfect tits,” he said breathlessly. 

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you replied, teasingly. You knew Chanyeol was popular with women and that he slept around. It wasn’t like the two of you were together in any real sense of the word so you couldn’t really be upset about it. And he’d never been in any sort of serious relationship as far as you knew. 

“I don’t,” he said, more seriously than you’d anticipated. He pulled his own shirt off, reaching behind his neck and removing it the way guys did. He then unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them down your legs, taking your panties along with them. He stuck a large hand between your legs and began rubbing your clit. “What do you want?”

“I wanna ride you,” you said, fully naked now.

He smiled, “Good. I need to see those tits bounce.” You rolled your eyes as pulled his sweatpants and boxers off, laying down flat on his back.

“You really need to work on your dirty talk, you know?”

“Don’t need to be good at dirty talk with a cock like this,” Chanyeol said, stroking it a few times, hard already. Chanyeol did have a great cock. Well, he had a great everything but his cock was particularly nice, as far as they go. It was proportional to the rest of him, which meant big.

“Yeah, yeah,” you replied, mockingly. You got on top of him and grabbed it, lowering yourself on to his length, moaning wantonly as you did so.

“I missed your pussy,” Chanyeol said, looking at you with lust-filled eyes.

“Yeah? You’ve been thinking about it?”

“I have,” he said, thrusting up into you. He grabbed your hips, pushing you down onto him and grinding up into you. “Have you been thinking about me?”

You stuttered a little, “N– Not at all,” you lied and Chanyeol smirked.

“Brat,” Chanyeol said, giving your ass a squeeze with both hands, making you let out a little squeal. You bent down to lock his lips in a kiss, a rough, sloppy one. He bit your bottom lip and tugged it before letting go. “You’re lucky I like you.”

You straightened up again and smiled, bouncing on his cock with your dripping wet cunt.. He eyed your jiggling breasts and let out a little growl. His cock throbbed as you continued to ride him gently, building up more intensity with each passing second. He watched his length disappearing inside you over and over again.

“God, your cock feels good, Chanyeol,” you moaned, throwing your head back. It really did. It sounded cheesy, almost comical even, but no man fit you quite like Chanyeol did. You felt waves of pleasure building up in your core.

“Fuck yeah it does. Ride me just like that,” he responded, thrusting up into you faster. You were meeting each other’s rhythm and you whimpered being hit in all the right spots.

No one knew your body like your step brother did, as fucked up as that was to say. You’d slept with a handful of other men and none of them had ever made you feel even close to what Chanyeol could. He took turns squeezing and smacking your ass. He wanted to leave marks behind, you knew that, a handprint or a bruise he could tease you about later. You quickened your pace, feeling yourself getting closer to your orgasm and Chanyeol did as well.

“Only I can get you like this, hmm? Coming apart on my cock like a dirty whore?” he said, speeding up even more. It was like he was so in tune with you that he could read your mind sometimes.

“Only you, Chanyeol,” you mewled and he looked at you with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“You’re so pretty like this… I’m gonna cum in this tight little pussy… Knock you up. Do you want that?”

“Yes, Chanyeol, fill me up. I want you to do whatever you like,” you said, knowing you were on birth control and the chances of you actually getting pregnant were minimal, but the breeding thing seemed to be a favourite of his so you always indulged it.

“And then with your belly round and your tits leaking milk, everyone will know,” he said, his voice low, “that you’re a dirty whore who seduced her step brother by acting like a slut.”

“I’m not a slut,” you protested meekly.

“Yes, you are,” he replied, punctuating it with a particularly hard thrust. “You’re the worst kind of slut. You’re a slut for your step brother’s cock.”

Shame filled you but so did arousal. You knew that the sinfulness of this was part of why it was so pleasurable, so thrilling. The fact that you had to keep this a dirty little secret between the two of you heightened every single feeling.

“I’m going to cum, Ch–,” you began but your orgasm interrupted you in the middle of your sentence, making you throw your head back and moan. This was enough for Chanyeol who followed soon after, thrusting quickly a few times before he came inside you with a groan. You felt his seed inside of you and you couldn’t deny there was a tiny part of you that wished he would get you pregnant so you could be marked by him in the most permanent way.

You lay in each other’s arms on your single bed with Chanyeol’s large body taking up most of it whilst coming down from your respective orgasms.

“It could work, you know? We could make it work,” he said. He didn’t have to elaborate, you knew exactly what he was talking about. You’d had this discussion many times before and it always ended the same.

“We can’t,” you said simply. “You know we can’t.”

“We could move somewhere far away. Another country even. It would be like starting fresh. We’d have no ties to anyone. No one would even have to know.”

You sighed. Chanyeol always got like this after sex. He’d always propose some far-fetched plan where your relationship could work and you always had to talk him down, to disappoint him. You hated doing it every time.

“I can’t abandon my mom. Or Mimi. Would you be able to leave all your friends and family?”

“For you, yeah,” he said and it felt like he’d reached into your chest and squeezed your heart in his hand. You didn’t expect him to say that, especially so nonchalantly. 

“Please,” you said, a little desperately, “Let’s just enjoy this… these stolen moments. I know it’s not ideal but it’s all we’re meant to have,” you said, trying to sound reasonable even though it was tearing you apart inside to do so. 

Chanyeol said nothing, tensing her jaw for a second before relaxing it again, “Yeah. It’s just not enough anymore.”

“Are you mad?” you asked, carefully. 

“No. But I need to tell you something.”

“Tell me what? You’re not pregnant, are you?” you joked, trying to add some levity to a situation that was feeling increasingly tense.

“I met a woman,” Chanyeol said. “She’s great. I like her a lot. She’s not you, but…” He trailed off.

He what? You could feel your heart pounding in your chest. Your throat felt tight. 

“But what?” you asked, not wanting to know but also needing to know. You were frightened of what you were going to hear and you almost thought he was joking until he continued.

“The relationship is getting serious. I can see myself with her in the future. I won’t say I love her, not yet anyway, but…” He cleared his throat. “If you really mean it, if you’re really serious about not wanting to be with me… I’m gonna make things official with her. Introduce her to the family and everything.”

“Oh,” was all you said. It was all you could say. Your heart was breaking in real time and you were trying not to cry. It was wrong of you to be upset, selfish even, but you couldn’t help it. Unwittingly, you’d always thought of Chanyeol as yours, even when you were ending things with him over and over again.

“So I guess I wanted to say it’s now or never. It’s up to you,” he said solemnly.

The choice weighed heavily on you. You couldn’t imagine never having Chanyeol again. The stolen kisses and glances. Sneaking out to the car to fuck in secret. The road trips that you’d taken together, the only times you two could play the normal couple you wanted to be. It would all be gone just like that?

Not to mention the fact that you hated the idea of him with another woman, touching her, making love to her, being in love with her. Simply put, it was soul crushing.

But then you thought of your mother, who’d worked so hard to raise you despite the difficulties of being a young, single mom. And your friends. And school and work and the life that you had here. And sweet little Mimi, the sister you and Chanyeol shared who looked at you like you hung the moon. How could you leave all of them behind? It would be horrible and selfish and you’d miss them terribly. It was impossible.

“I can’t, Loey. I’m sorry. I love you. I do love you. But I can’t. You should… continue things with this girl,” you said with a tone of finality. It was truly over now, your love story, you knew that.

Chanyeol said nothing, his face stony. He sat up and pulled his clothes on quickly, getting up and walking out of your room without looking at you. Saying you were devastated would have been an understatement. You were broken.

You got up and went to your bathroom, turning on the shower and stepping inside without even waiting for it to warm up. The water hit your body and you finally broke down in tears. You knew you’d made the right decision, but right now the pain was almost unbearable. You cried and cried, sitting on the floor of the shower until you felt like you were out of tears. You were grieving the loss of the only man you ever loved and you didn’t know when you’d ever be okay again.

☆*: .｡. o💔o .｡.:*☆

#chanyeol smut #chanyeol x reader #exo x reader #exo smut #kpop smut #park chanyeol #exo fanfic #exo imagines #exo scenarios #kpop fanfic #exo #weareoneexo #exo fanfiction #exowritersnet #park chanyeol x reader

[yellobb]

I just want to lie down and cuddle with my mom, but she hasn’t been sleeping well and she has work in the morning. I just want to be held

#m rambles #god I’m emotional tonight #I think the move is finally starting to get to me #I’m a fucking wreck right now #my heart aches so badly #why can’t I have more time? #I’m not ready to go yet #I feel just like I did when I turned 18 #that grief of lost childhood #but now it’s just the grief of losing a home #and I know I can always come back home #hell I’ll definitely be home for thanksgiving if not earlier #my family isn’t going anywhere #my childhood home will still be standing in the two months when I come back to visit #just like how I didn’t actually lose anything when 11:59pm became 12am on my 18th birthday #but god everything hurts #I don’t remember feeling like this when I went to college and that would technically have been my first big move #so I just gotta try to remind myself that I’ll be okay #that I’ll have to wait even less time to see my family again than I did when I left for school every year #and hope it dulls the pain

[screeching-bunny]

Yandere! Supernatural Harem

Warnings: Obsessive Behavior, Yandere Thoughts, Bad Writing, Stalking, Possessive Behavior, Reader is Referred as ‘You’

A/N: This idea was inspired by a Reddit prompt.

Ever since you were little, you’ve always attracted unwanted attention from supernatural creatures. You were like a magnet, a special enigma that only certain entities were aware of. Werewolves would try to take you to their dens, sirens would always try to lull you towards the sea with their voices, fairies would try to guide you to their forbidden forests. The list could go on and on.

Mythological creatures thought to be made up scary bedtime stories would always line up outside your door. It didn’t matter how old you were. Childhood memories consisted of these monsters trying to kidnap and force an adoption upon you. Teenage/adult years consisted of marriage proposals and courtship. No matter where you were, there was always a stalker up your trail following you.

Having friends was basically impossible. Every interaction you’ve had with another person has always ended up badly for them. Whether they be mutilated beyond recognition or become a seeping liquid you knew better then to go out and make friends. Thankfully, you’re family was never harmed by this ordeal and you moved as far away from them as possible to keep them safe.

Currently, you have a dilemma on your hands and right now it’s because of a certain Naga.

“Do you like my skin?” He asked in a tense voice. As he stands before you with his long serpent tail wagging through the air like a dog.

“It’s very pretty” You knew better than this. You felt like an absolute fool for picking up his shedded skin. Honestly, you should have just ignore it and went on with your day as if nothing was there.

“I’m so happy you think that way. If you like it that much let’s get married and I can give you as much as your pretty little heart desires. I’m so happy I decided to approach you. It took me months of prepping and working my skin to make sure that it shined brightly when it came off”

“It’s happening again,” you thought. Interactions like this happen on a daily basis. It would be strange not to see one marriage proposal a day from these guys. No matter what you did or how much you changed your appearance, these guys would always come back with eyes filled with love. Everyone of those supernatural creatures had their own unique version of courting and expressing their love.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t think I’m ready for marriage”

“You don’t have to be, as long as you come back with me I’ll make sure to treat you right and absolutely worship you. Being in your presence and being the only thing to brace your eyes is enough for me.

“I need some time to think about this, my emotions are still unclear”

“I understand this concern of yours and shall agree to give some time to ponder about this. However, I shall be coming back within a month's time and if you are still unsure I will take you back with me whether you like it or not” The naga states as slithers out of your yard and back into the forest.

The day just started and you were already exhausted. It honestly did not matter if he came back or not because, as said before, at least one supernatural creature was at your side. When he comes back, there would most likely be a bloodthirsty fight between two entities and you were sure as hell not going to get in the way by stopping the fight.

Well, there’s no use in moping around might as well just go back inside to make dinner for yourself. Walking towards your kitchen you go to pick up some food but before you could everything in your house was being knocked over.

“Seriously, again?!” You were honestly getting so sick of this. Your ghost admirer seemed to have barged into your home and was making a mess of it.

“If you’re going to stay here you might as well help me cook dinner” Honestly, the audacity of this man has you appalled. Out of all your obsessive admirers, the ghosts were definitely the most annoying. Every single day they always barge into your home and there’s nothing you can do about it because they can quite literally go through your walls.

“I’ll do it but only if you call me husband” he says lovingly as he starts to make his form appear visible to your eyes.

“Please, husband” And just like that, ingredients start to fly through the air. Hey, I mean who are you to deny free labor. If they're always going to make an appearance in your life might as well just make them useful.

After dinner, you decided to take a long needed bubble bath. Sometimes you wonder what life would be like if you were just a normal and average person. It didn’t really even matter anyways, it’s not like those wishes would ever become a reality.

Moving your way out of the bathroom you start to make your way to bed. As you lay there your eyes begin to droop and sleep begin to succumb to you.

It would have been a peaceful scene had it not been for the vampire staring at you through your window…

Pt.2

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere x y/n #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere harem #yandere scenarios #yandere supernatural #gn reader

[linopls]

kinktober day five

first time jeongin x fem!reader summary: spending the night in your childhood bedroom with one of your members didn't go as you expected it. warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, mentions of underage drinking, oral (fem receiving), unprotected p in v 3.1k words (whoops)

they are both adults (18) here!

“you smell like a red, white, and berry smirnoff.”

jeongin giggles, “your childhood bedroom is cute.”

you never thought any of the stray kids members would visit your childhood home in the states until the boys suggested you come back home for your senior prom. you had committed to finishing your senior year online while still being a member of stray kids knowing that you would miss many of your senior traditions. but the boys could not let go of the idea of you missing your senior prom. 

your defensive argument is you had no reason to go as you didn’t have a date, all the boys jumped on the opportunity to take you. chan, minho, and changbin were all too old, according to the permission slip. seungmin and jisung were too worried about not knowing enough english, and hyunjin and felix had both planned trips with their families during this time of break. 

this left jeongin, who didn’t care if he didn’t know enough english.

-

“isn’t prom just dancing anyways?” jeongin asked you a month before the dance, both of you sitting in the JYPE cafe snacking between practices.

“it is,” you reply, taking a fork full of your salad. “but i’ll want you to meet and get to know all my friends.”

“then you can translate for me, think of it as korean practice!”

“pfft, i don’t need more korean practice, you can think of it as english practice.”

jeongin rolls his eyes at you while stuffing his face full of pizza. “i’m going with you to this out of the kindness of my heart, don’t be mean,” he says with his mouth full.

“you are literally the only one able to go.”

-

about two weeks before the dance, stray kids was finishing promotions for their comeback and you were walking back to the dressing room. 

“wait here,” chan says, stopping you outside the door. confusion paints your face as chan stands in front of the door handle, blocking you from entering. you both sit in silence for a minute when there’s a small knock on the door. chan opens the door without saying anything. 

you’re greeted with balloons and streamers. on your left hyunjin is holding out a small cake, on your right, felix, minho, seungmin, and changbin, jisung are holding signs that spell out “PROM?”, and in the middle of  jeongin is holding a sign that reads ‘I have a QUESTION and I hope there’s no AWKWARD SILENCE but…” 

you gasp, hands covering your mouth, and tears form in the corners of your eyes. you never had been asked to a school dance, and never thought you would be. but here’s jeongin, recruiting the help of all the members, to ask you with a cheesy sign. 

“my prom research told me that boys usually ask their partners to prom with a sign,” jeongin says walking towards you. “so what do you say?”

you nod, afraid that if you speak you’ll start to cry. you run to hug jeongin and he drops the sign and envelopes you in a warm hug. 

-

“i can’t believe my parents haven’t touched it since i left.”

“it still fits your personality, cute and bubbly.”

jeongin squeezes himself between you and the wall on your twin size bed. he pulls up the pink, polka dot covers over the two of you and cuddles up next to you.

“how much did you drink?” you ask.

“only one,” he says. “we can’t legally drink here.”

you laugh. “and that stopped none of us.”

your friends had encouraged you to host an after party at your house, since your parents were out of state. you and jeongin drink often in korea, being 18 and 19 accordingly. so he found it funny that none of the party goers could legally purchase alcohol but brought a ton of it to the party. both of you only drank one or two beverages, being the hosts of the party you both wanted to remain sober enough. and red, white, and berry smirnoffs being the drink of choice, jeongin claimed it would make him feel more american. 

you both lay there in silence, scrolling through socials and updating the boys on how the dance was. 

“oh my god,” you sigh.

“what?” jeongin says, trying to catch a peak of whatever you’re looking at on your phone.

“my friend abby, you know the one in the red dress you meant, just texted us that she’s getting laid tonight.”

“what?” jeongin exclaimed, “she seemed so sweet and innocent.”

“she is!” you laugh. “we all had placed bets on when we’d lose our virginities in, like, middle school, they all said i would be first. but now i guess i’m last.”

“its not a race,” jeongin says.

“i know, i know.” you pout. “but i’m sick of all the boys teasing me for it all the time!”

“they tease me about it too!” he says, sitting up on one of his elbows, turning to face you. 

being the youngest two members meant you and jeongin got teased about not doing ‘adult things’ a lot. like neither of you were able to drive, neither ever bought a lottery ticket, or neither had ever had sex.

“what if we did it?” 

“what?” you’re in shock, you feel like you can’t move. you had never thought about jeongin like that. you both had agreed that going to prom together was completely platonic, even though he made the sign, you wore matching colors, and you guys exchanged corsages and boutonnieres. 

“i’m just thinking like, if we did it, neither of us would be virgins and they would stop teasing us for it.”

jeongin notices your shocked impression and quickly begins to apologize.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it like that, i was just saying that-”

“they would tease us for doing it with each other,” you say, turning your phone off and placing it on your nightstand. 

you look over at jeongin and now he looks confused. “although,” you wonder aloud. “we wouldn’t have to tell them, we could just say we aren’t next time they bring it up. lie about who we did it with.”

“how?” jeongin asks.

“i dunno, say i reconnected with someone back here, and then you could say you met someone at the company and it was a fling.”

“they wouldn’t believe that, i don't have the ability to flirt with people like that,” jeongin laughs awkwardly.

the air feels tense. you and jeongin are sat in silence, both staring at each other looking for some sort of answer. jeongin scoots closer to you. you again can smell the smirnoff on his breath. he slowly reaches one of his hands up and places it on your cheek, gently caressing your soft cheek.

“can i kiss you?” he asks, almost at a whisper.

“yeah,” you whisper back.

his lips met yours and it feels like fireworks are going off in your brain. his lips are so soft and move perfectly in sync with yours. he moves his hand from your cheek to the back of your head, pulling you deeper into the kiss. you move one of your hands up his torso, stopping at where his chest and neck met, you can feel the warmth of his skin on your hand and it feels like you both should’ve done this a long time ago.

he slowly assists you onto your back and he lays on top of you, his legs slotted between yours. he keeps one hand on the back of your hand and uses the other to grip onto your thigh and pull it up to wrap around his middle. his gentle ministrations send butterflies down to your core and you mindlessly move both of your hands to his hips and pull his body closer to yours.

you both uncontrollably moan at the sensation of your clothed centers coming in contact with each other. the kiss becomes more messy as jeongin slips his warm tongue into your mouth and you both unconsciously grind onto each other. 

jeongin is the first to pull away, a line of spit still connecting your mouths, and both of you out of breath. “jesus y/n,” he said breathlessly. 

you giggle as you pull his hips closer to you once again. jeongin smashes his lips onto yours, more hungrily this time. he continues to grind his hips into your clothed core, the sensation driving you wild. he begins to kiss down your jaw and neck stopping at the collar of your shirt.

“can i take this off?” he whispers against your skin and his hand moves from your thigh to the hem of your shirt.

you nod and jeongin slowly starts to lift your shirt up your body, you sit up slightly so that he can fully lift it over your head.

“wow.”

“what?”

“you’re beautiful,” jeongin says as he leans back down to kiss at your now exposed chest. as he kisses down between your breasts and down your stomach you interlock your fingers with his dark, slightly wet hair. when he kisses the spot right above the waistband of your pants he looks back up at you. 

“do you want me to…” he trails off.

“if you want to,” you reply, barely a whisper.

“yeah,” he says unsurely. “i don’t know how to.”

you laugh and he places his forehead on your stomach in embarrassment. “y/n don’t laugh at me.”

“i’m not laughing at you. you’re just cute.”

he looks back up at you. “are you kidding me?”

“i’ll tell you what to do, okay?” you reassure him.

you reach for his hands and put them at the waistband of your pajama pants. you assist him in pulling down your pants and panties in one swift motion. the feeling of the cool air in the bedroom on your core sends shivers down your spine. the whole scene hits you now and you realize what you’re about to do with your bandmate. you close your legs in embarrassment and jeongin looks up at you.

“hey, are you sure you’re okay with this?” he asks, holding your hand in his.

you nod slowly. “i’m just nervous, i guess. never done this before.”

“it’s okay, it's me, your best friend in the whole world, i’ll never think of you differently,” he says, squeezing your hand gently. 

“you promise?”

“yeah, i do.” he smiles at you, the cute smile you love to see plastered on his face.  where his dimples come out and his cheeks are round and you just want to grab him and kiss him all over his face. “so please, open your legs for me.”

you could never dream about your innocent jeongin saying those words to you, his words send a wave of arousal to your core. you very slowly part your legs for him and he stares at your core in awe.

“wow, y/n, you’re fucking beautiful.”

“please,” you whisper, begging for him to touch where you need him most.

“tell me if i’m doing anything wrong, m’kay?” he says, moving his face closer to your core.

he sticks his tongue out and gently swipes it across your clit. the feeling is sent through your whole body and you whimper out in response. jeongin takes that as a ‘go ahead’ and presses his tongue flat against your sensitive bud.

“m-more, please,” you whine, lacing your fingers into his hair again.

jeongin giggles and starts to flick his tongue back and forth on your clit. he lays one of his arms across your stomach to support himself and uses his other hand to part your lips for him. he moves off your clit and gently runs his tongue over your sopping wet hole. you moan in response loudly before slapping one of your hands over your mouth. 

jeongin looks up at you. “shh, you don’t want to wake your friends, do you?” he teases.

your mind had been so overwhelmed with the idea of having sex with jeongin that you forgot that all your friends were still in your house from the party. next door was your brother's room in which your brother and two of his friends were sleeping in.

you shake your head but keep your hand over your mouth and jeongin gets back to work. he teasingly pokes his tongue in and out of your hole and you moan out in pleasure again, this time it's muffled by your hand. jeongin moves his tongue back up to your clit and swirls the sensitive muscle in small circles. you tug at his hair with the hand you still have in his soft, black locks. jeongin groans in response and the sound sends shivers down your spine.

“m-more please,” you whine. “your-your fingers.”

jeongin quickly listens to your pleas and slides his index finger into your entrance. you whimper in response and without realizing it, you’re grinding down onto his mouth and fingers. jeongin begins to work his tongue and fingers swiftly at your core, flicking small circles on your clit and slowly fucking your hole with his finger. before long, he adds a second finger and curls them both until he finds the spot that has your back arching off the bed.

he begins working more vigorously, wanting nothing more than for you to finish on his fingers and tongue. he begins to rotate from gentle flicks at your clit to sucking on the bud gently. he adds a third finger and you begin to feel the knot form in your stomach. you’ve never felt like this before, only ever finishing by yourself, the feeling of someone else being in control of it has you seeing stars. as jeongin goes back to swirling small circles on your clit, you feel yourself leaking onto your bedsheets and that your orgasm is going to spill over.

“i’m gonna cum, jeongin please, please,” you whine at a whisper. jeongin doesn’t break his pace and soon you’re biting down on your hand, your eyes rolls back into your head, and you're pulling at jeongin’s hair like your life depends on it. he continues to work you through your orgasm, the sounds of your squelching cunt make jeongin moan. 

“jeongin, jeongin,��� you exclaim and you push his head away from your core just as he starts to overstimulate you. 

he looks up and you see your arousal shine all over his face. he pulls his fingers from your hole and sticks them in his mouth, making a show of swirling his tongue around them to clean them off. he starts to crawl back up to be face to face with you and you find your hands moving to the waistband of his pajama pants and slowly starting to pull them down.

“y/n do you have a condom?” jeongin asks before you can free him completely.

“no,” you answer.

“then we don’t have to it’s-”

“its okay, i’m on the pill.”

“what?” jeongin looks dumbfounded, like you just asked him to hand over his firstborn child. 

“i’m serious, it’s okay, i’m on the pill.”

“are you sure?”

“yes, i am so sure. i’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. jeongin please, i need you.”

jeongin could’ve came on the spot. he quickly pulls his pants down and throws them off the bed. you look down to his red and leaking member, begging to be touched.

“holy shit.”

“what?” jeongin exclaims, worry painting his face.

“you’re huge,” you say before you can filter yourself.

jeongin laughs. “i am not.”

“you are not going to fit,” you laugh, grabbing his hips to pull closer to yours.

his solid cock brushes your entrance and jeongin lets out a whimper-like noise. you gently grab his cock with one of your hands to guide him to your begging core. he’s staring at you, eyes wide, looks like tears could boil over at any second. the feeling of his tip at your hole makes both of you moan.

“jeongin, please fuck me.”

“jesus, y/n,” jeongin moans.

jeongin grabs the base of his cock and slowly pushes it inside of you. you grab at his shoulders, the stretch stinging in a pleasurable manner. you’re both staring at each other, eyes widening as he slowly pushes himself inside you. when he bottoms out, you’re both breathing heavy at the new sensation. 

“you can move now,” you whisper after you have gotten used to the feeling. 

“if i move, i’ll cum,” jeongin mumbles. you laugh, and jeongin moans.

“y/n don’t fucking laugh, it squeezes me,” jeongin whines.

you chuckle and grab jeongin’s hand. you guide him down to your clit, where he quickly understands and begins to rub small circles on it. you moan loudly, not caring about who hears you anymore. the feeling of jeongin playing with your clit and being so full as you seeing stars. 

“jeongin, i need you to move please,” you whine.

he takes a deep breath and slowly slides himself in and out of your wet cunt, not stopping his ministrations on your bundle of nerves. the pleasure is overwhelming, you cover your mouth with your hand again and mumble for him to move faster. he begins to move faster and you can feel the knot forming again.

“fuck,” he moans softly. “you feel so good.”

you whimper in response. “jeongin, i’m gonna cum.”

“fuck,” he moans again, beginning to thrust faster. with each thrust you can feed the head of his cock hit your spot and your eyes roll back into your head. you dig your nails that are still on his shoulder into his skin. tears are beginning to form in your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment.

“w-will you cum with me?” jeongin says, tears in his eyes and sweat dripping down his face.

you nod quickly and jeongin buries his face in your neck. you feel is cock twitch a couple times before he paints your walls with his release. you’re quick to follow and soon you’re both a moaning and weeping mess. both uncontrollably thrusting your hips into each other as you finish, leaking all over your bed sheets. 

you both lay in silence for a minute, calming yourselves down and slowing your breathing. you’re gently running your fingers through his hair and his rubbing circles into your hips with his thumbs. you’re the first to break the silence.

“are you okay?”

“i’m great, are you?”

“mhm, feel great.”

“yeah.”

“are you still hard?” you ask, realizing he hadn’t pulled out of you yet.

“maybe,” he chuckles. “wanna go again?”

i got way too carried away with this one hehe

@rockstrhanji @hyunjinhoexxx @mixtape-racha @euphoric-univers @haruharu-egypt @shit-why-what @twiggoblin @kookiesbunny @virgohannie @nataliee10 @ihrtlix @aaasia111 @lolli4me @lilcutieana @changbinsrightboob @hanjisunglover @chansducky10 @elissasimp @boi-bi-ahaha @lilquokka04 @anglerfishiey @sirenscall1031 @might-be-a-rat @jihyun2monster @kpflyn @samsmitty @imwithurmother @meilix @summer3sworld @mysweethannie @kittykattime @linoots @yaorzu-blog @sofiaeli 

@alemi-i @cupidsmoons @yoongles2025 @vixensss @chlooooop @lemontried @idkluvutellme @superiorbrownskinn @ana-stasssiaaa @amayaaseees @ilikecatsanddoritos @alnex05 @esairevmp @greysweaters-blog @sanzusfavgf @jutannies @faraonatojishady @hanniemylovelyquokka @chloeskzboomboom @quinnluvsmoney @burningupp-replies @aisha-md @jo-dinner @jeannie-beannie @httpsimmy @hazneezs @cuffier 

@dvbkie099 @il0v3skz @chrishak@quokkaaah @bex90997 @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @leeknowyah @tumadreposts @hyunniebunni @cipher-ipher @alice630 @jinnies-princess @bangtancultsposts @evrythinghqppened @rebellescauses-blog @juicypebbless @fawnpeaks @the-life-of-stella @lakoya @compersian @seung-mine 

#linopls: jeongin #linopls #linopls kinktober 23 #skz smut #stray kids imagine #stray kids smut #skz #skz x reader #stray kids #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #jeongin #jeongin smut #jeongin x reader #jeongin imagine #i.n #i.n. #i.n. stray kids #i.n stray kids #i.n x reader #i.n skz #i.n. smut #i.n. x reader #i.n. imagine #jeongin x you #jeongin x y/n #i.n. x you #i.n. x y/n

[babygirl-riley]

Daddy’s Gonna Buy You a Mockingbird

When coming home Simon hears his daughter start to fuss.

Warnings: angst, mentions of childhood trauma, fluff, swearing, Dad!Simon

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family edition

Simon was fucking tired, the mission was long and difficult. It took them 4 months to plan the fucker just for the target to know their every move. He lost lots of men and women those nights, they had to camp somewhere in the middle of the desert cause transportation got fucked.

He unlocked the door of his home and walked in. Immediately he heard the whimpering. Simon heard you trying to lullaby both of your toddler. Simon was told that she has been sick for almost 4 days. It was teething that led to two ear infections. His poor angel was getting her ass jumped left and right with them infections.

He took his mask and boots off leaving them on the shelf near the door. He locked the door as he made his way through the hallway. When getting closer he heard you sniffling. “I don’t know what to do baby girl,” The toddler cried harder as you cried with her. “I am sorry. What do you need baby?”

Simon tapped the door making you jump. At first you thought you were going to fight but then relief came through. “Simon,” You started to sob. “Just take a shower and I will be there in minute.”

“I can take her.” He said walking fully in.

“No,” You wiped your tears quickly before shaking your head. “It’s fine you just got home. Please just take a shower love.”

Simon nodded, he didn’t want to but he could tell if he didn’t you would burst. He saw the dark circles under your eyes, how red your eyes were. You haven’t gotten any sleep. That tugged at his best strings, you have been dealing with this all by yourself so he wants to be able to help you.

Simon quickly got into the shower, washing all the paint, blood, sweat, and dirt from him. He waited for a moment before turning the faucet off and get out. He heard your sobs once more as he wrapped the towel around himself. Opening the door that showed you laying on your side curled up. Simon walked up to you and sat next to your body. He placed a hand on your hip rubbing circles.

“Not the best welcome home,” You sighed turning to face him. “Im sorry.”

“For what love? Taking care of our child? Don’t ever apologize for that.” He reassured, basically whispering.

“Just me crying and Im so fucking tried. She doesn’t sleep nothing longer than maybe 5 minutes before she is screaming. And I wanted to give you a warmer welcome and instead buzzed you off and…”

“Thats enough sweethear’ it has been a long week for you,” He got up to grab sweatpants and went around to his side to pull the blankets up and over him. You watched as he laid and scooted closer to you wrapping his arm around you. “Come ‘ere, get some sleep my dove.”

He doesn’t remember when you fell asleep or even him. Simon heard the soft whimpers start, you didn’t move and he was glad that you didn’t. He was also very happy that you moved out of his grasp while in your sleep. Simon carefully and quietly headed out of the room. Rubbing his tired eyes as he made it to his daughter’s room.

When he approached the room there she was. Standing up in her crib crying, once her eyes landed on his she cried harder. “Daddy.” She called a couple of times.

“Alright princess, you’re alright daddy’s here.” He said picking her up.

It took him a back of how hot she is, sweat gripping her pjs. Her crying increasing as she gripped onto his shoulder. “Shhh I know,” He said bouncing up and down. “I know baby.”

He felt her diaper and walked to the changing table, which to her was a sin. When he placed her down she screamed a bit, immediately he gently placed a palm on her chest. Putting small pressure. She stopped screaming as she still cried. His daughter loved when he did that when she wanted to be cuddled yet when he had to do certain things like this.

Because of how many times he has done this with her, he one handed did the diaper. He left her only in her diaper, get some air to her skin due to sweating and her being hot. As she still cried, he picked her up and lead out of the room walking to the kitchen. “Let’s try a warm bottle and me a tea yeah?” He said quietly, holding her close as she still cried.

While working on the bottle he rocked back and forth waiting for the teapot to heat up. He wrapped both of his arms around her holding her more close. “I’m ‘orry my birdie, teeth are arseholes. I know.”

She held around his neck placing her head down on his shoulder. Simon kept holding on until the smallest noise came from the pot. He didn’t want to wake you, he was even surprised you haven’t woke up yet. His daughter became more whimpering than crying.

He poured his mug first so the water could cool down just a bit more. Then poured water into her bottle. He made his tea before finish making her bottle. Afterward he walked to the living room and placed the tv on. Miss Rachel was her favorite to watch lately, that’s what you mentioned.

He placed her forward towards the tv as he placed his mug on the side table. Simon held her close to him as she drank her bottle. Rubbing her belly as he watched the show with her. He hated this woman, just found her annoying, you mentioned to him that it was her job to do that fake high pitch thing. To him it just made him want to mute it and never see it again.

His daughter leaned closer to him as he sipped his tea. She sniffled and hiccuped due to crying the whole time. He smoothed her thick blonde hair back, making her eyes roll. Another thing she gets from him. People massaging his scalp or play with his hair he would pass out from.

After three videos both Simon and her were laying on the couch. He had her on his chest with a blanket on both of them. “Shh I know,” He said as she started to whimper again. “Daddy is here, don’t worry. He will stay. I would do anythin’ for you not to be in this pain.”

She sucked on her binki her eyes rolling fighting sleep. Yet another thing she got from him. Fighting sleep. Simon remembered when you told him you were pregnant with her. He was terrified. Scared that he wouldn’t be good to her, that he would turn into his own father.

Simon actually left for hours from the house making you think that it was a bad idea to tell him. Until he came back in tears, first time you seen him break down. Telling you his fears and worries. You would comfort him and hold him that he has never been an ounce of his father. Never be like him.

Simon remembered when he asked for his dad to hold him. His dad told him to stop being a child, to grow up. Or even watch him cry in pain and laugh at the fact he was crying. He even remember Tommy being hit for even mentioning that his throat hurt. Telling him that is something to be crying about when he was hurt.

Because of those memories he was going on for months in his mind that he didn’t believed that, didn’t believe that he would be a good father, it wasn’t until she was born. When he held her in his big hands. He knew that this was the opportunity to not be his low life father. And yet here he was being not that, his father would have never been comforting him when he was sick. Holding him. Loving him. He was grateful to be able to be here for her. For you. To show the love and care that he wanted to.

Simon sighed as he felt her breathing slow down, falling into deep sleep. He settled more down into the couch as he closed his eyes, holding on to his princess.

You woke up with the sun beaming into the room. You groaned as you placed a hand to where Simon would have been. It was cold. You opened your eyes and frowned. Was a dream that he was home? You sighed getting up and heading to your daughter’s room. For it to be empty too.

You walked around the house figuring out where the hell was your daughter. Which when you heard Miss Rachel on the tv and two figures on the couch. It made your heart swell. You walked to around to face both your daughter clinging onto her father. Simon softly snoring and his daughter as well. You forget how similar they look.

The soft features of when they slept. Their hair. Their nose. You also noticed that she was just in her diaper and didn’t look sweaty. You inhaled deeply feeling a bit of relief. Hopefully that means that her temperature went down and back to normal.

You smiled thinking about the time where you were almost about to pop. Simon holding your tummy telling your daughter that he will protect her with every ounce of his being. Not matter where or what she is doing, he will be there. You would play with his hair as he rubbed your tummy, feeling her move every time he would place a hand on your tummy.

You grabbed both bottle and mug, walking back to the kitchen. “Definitely going to be a daddy’s girl.” You whispered, starting to make breakfast for your perfect family.

#simon ghost riley #call of duty modern warfare #simon riley #simon ‘ghost’ riley #call of duty #call of duty mw2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #daddy!simon #dad!simon

[moongreenlight]

More childhood best friend!Gaz headcanons because I cannot stop thinking about him

He’s your valentine every single year. Started as his dad trying to teach him proper etiquette when he was young and just never stopped. A bouquet of flowers on your stoop and a cheap card he scratches a note into. Never signs his name. Just ends ‘xx.’

He chaperoned your first real date in high school because your dad paid for his tank of gas. The guy you were keen on never called you back after. It took you until you were seventeen to realize that it was probably because Kyle was sitting on the same side of the booth as you and spoon feeding you bites of dinner.

He also ruined your first real relationship when he beat your boyfriend to asking you to formal (a full two months early). You tried to explain that it didn’t mean anything, but he just couldn’t understand. Kyle said it was for the better while you sobbed into his shoulder. “Tosser can’t cope with the fact he’ll always be second place. Better not to waste your time.”

His basic training was 26 weeks away from home. He went immediately after picking up his diploma. It was the most miserable summer of your entire life. Spent primarily waiting by the mailbox for the postman to deliver your daily letters back and forth. He’s started signing off “Garrick. x.”

Both of your families went to his graduation, but his mother insisted you were the one to tap him out. You barely recognized him, like the summer where his family took a month long vacation and he came back a full four inches taller. He’s bigger now, his shoulders permanently rolled back, but he still carries himself with that same cool ease.

He barely stays long enough to say his hello’s to everyone until he takes you back to the car and lays you out in the backseat. Griping the whole way about how “you’d be in a hurry, too. Couldn’t even get away with a wank in the shower.” And “s’your duty to the country. You wanna thank me for my service, don’t you?” You swear the two of you fit easier six months ago, but now he’s cramped between the seats. Caged in tight. His head bumps the window each time he snaps his hips into you.

You seriously considered moving close to base when you found out he was being permanently relocated after joining the task force, but he wouldn’t hear a word about it.

So you settle on sending each other disposable cameras back and forth. You’ve got a picture of him on a mission in Amsterdam framed up in your hall. He’s got a cigarette hanging out of his big, toothy smile, posing like an overexcited tourist in front of a lingerie shop with a display window that made your ears hot when you first saw it.

He called you a few days after his incident with the helo in Urzikstan. Boasted his adventure with only a whispering tremble on the soft underside of his tough facade. Carried on until you wretched dryly into the receiver. Working yourself up into sick with worry even though he promised he was fine, just sticking to the ground for a bit.

Even though you’re seeing him less nowadays, he’s still somehow coming between you and any romantic pursuits you make. You chalk it up to coincidence most of the time, but a blind eye can only be turned so far.

He seems to have a sixth sense for when you’re on a date or a one night stand. Sending texts and pictures that could be misconstrued as flirty to someone who didn’t know the dynamic at just the wrong moment every time. And there was the one time where he sent flowers to your desk at work just a few days after you’d said something about a coworker getting sweet on you.

It happened so often that you eventually decided that the dating scene just wasn’t for you. Resigned to focus on work and friends. Adopting a new mantra of “if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”

You’ve got no idea why Kyle is so pleased to hear about the conclusion you’ve come to. Or why he’s suddenly coming back home for a few weeks.

#he is rotting my brain from the inside out I need him carnally #moongreenlight #moongreenlightwrites #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #141 headcanons #drabble #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz smut #gaz smut #gaz mw2 #gaz cod #kyle gaz garrick #gaz call of duty #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick smut #cbf!gaz

[gummygowon]

my girl(s) | choi san

word count: 1.27k hehe

genre: fluff bro so much, slight childhood friends to lovers, established relationship, soon to be dad!san x pregnant!reader

warnings: san just worrying too much that he gets exhuasted

song playlist: my girl - the temptations, be my baby - the ronettes, la vie en rose - èdith piaf

author's note: seeing san get heated about how that one husband treats his wife made me think about how sweet and caring san would be in a relationship and then i started playing fifties's music and boom here where we are

choi san was just an absolute gentlemen, it was one of the many reasons why you loved him so much.

you vividly remember when you were younger, san declaring to the dinner table that his wife's hands will never be wet in the future, promising that he will be doing everything for her which impressed all the other neighborhood parents. a few parents joked at him to remember their daughters in the future which you rolled your eyes at. san was obviously bluffing and trying to impress everyone. you found it hard to believe that a man would be able to care so much for his wife like san said.

it was almost laughable how wrong child you was.

san quite literally did everything around the house, always insisting that you go lie down and relax even though he just came home from work. it was definitely a hassle trying to get your husband to relax let alone sit down after dinner since he was always insisting that he did the dishes even if he cooked.

"san, baby go shower," you whisper into his ear while he was doing the dishes, "let me do this. go relax."

instantly turning around in protest, san folds his arms in front of his chest, "no."

"san," you warn, the mother in your voice coming out.

"absolutely not." san protests, standing up even taller to tower over you, "you are my pregnant wife who needs to rest. i need my girls to rest."

"san, we don't even know the gender yet." you argue. it was only today that you found out you were pregnant after you realized that you were two weeks late and sped to the nearest drugstore for a test.

"i know but i think we're having a girl." san says knowing with smile on his face, he was just getting excited at the thought of having a baby girl. "still though, you should rest."

"san, i'm fine, you on the other hand should rest."

"but-"

"who has a eight hour shift at seven am tomorrow baby?"

"i do." san dejectedly answers with a pout on his face. san didn't hate his job as a martial arts instructor but if he had to choose between you and his job, he would choose you without a doubt over and over again.

"i promise when my belly grows you can pamper me all you want but not yet. you still need to take care of yourself before i'm unable to take care of myself."

"promise?" he asks as he intertwined his fingers with you.

"promise." you answer before sealing the deal with a kiss.

a few months later, when the baby bump began to show, san became even more protective of you.

finally on your maternity leave, you spent the time at home reading parenting books and knitting clothes for your baby making an assortment of colors. sometimes, you ventured down to the dojo that was connected to the house causing san to stop whatever he was doing and guide you down the stairs.

"yah! choi san!" you shout at your husband who completely abandoned his lesson to aid you, "i can walk down just fine! go back to teaching!"

"no!" he argues before turning back to his class to yell, "five minute water break!"

a collective "yes sir" was heard from the group as the students dispersed to the sidelines.

"san, i love you but i promise i'm fine!"

"i know, but i still worry over you my love." san confesses as he carefully holds your hand as you walk down.

"aigoo..."

closer to your date, you spent most of your days either in the dojo working at the front desk so that san could keep on you (more like you could keep an eye on him) or upstairs reading more parenting books and preparing the baby's room.

"how's the baby?" wooyoung asks, an old friend of san who occasionally stopped by the dojo to check up on you and take out san to relax.

"doing great! the doctors are saying the baby is healthy and don't see any problems or complications yet."

"ahhh, that's great to hear! how's san doing though? still stressing?"

"oh you bet he is." you sigh, running a hand through your hair. "taking him out for a drink tonight?"

"trying to but you know he doesn't like to leave your side."

another sign escapes your lips, it was possible that san was stressing you out by not being able to relax. "i'll convince him. he's been worrying too much."

"good luck with that one." wooyoung laughs.

"woo!" your husband shouts at his best friend coming out of the studio to the front with a towel in hand. "what brings you here?"

"just checking in your wife and the baby." wooyoung starts before flashing a quick glance at you, "but the boys and i are about to head down to the bar if you wanna grab a drink."

"ahhh, you know i would love to but," san says looking down at you with a smile. lately he's been running around the house trying to satisfy you're weird pregnancy cravings and help with the morning sickness all while still working full time down at the dojo. the stress and exhaustion was evident on your poor baby's face as the eye bags deepened and he wasn't his cheery self.

instead of returning the smile, you frown at him confusing san. "go sannie, i'll be fine."

"don't-"

"san, i will be okay." you laugh a little, trying to ease san's nerves, "i'll be down the street okay, baby? you deserve a break."

san looks back at wooyoung who looks eerily similar to the devil on his shoulder. "are you sure? what about dinner?"

"your mom dropped off some soup for us earlier, i can eat that. go out, have fun! you need to have some fun once in awhile baby."

"fine, but not too late." san complies while pointing a finger at wooyoung.

"i promise to bring him before eleven ma'am." wooyoung promises saluting to you before shooing san to go get changed.

"take care of him woo!"

the day of the pregnancy was absolutely terrifying yet exciting. it was the thrill of finally becoming parents that was the only thing keeping you sort of calm. your mind wandered every now and then to the idea of you being a bad mother but san was quick to shut down those thoughts.

you guys still didn't have any idea of what the gender was, deciding it would be fun to find out the day of. san was still confident that you guys were going to have a girl even though all the ajummas begged to differ with their superstitions.

"it's a girl!" the doctor exclaimed cuddling the newbown baby.

"i told you!" san shouts jumping into the air out of excitement before wrapping his arms tightly around you, his lips on your forehead. "thank you. thank you so much." tears of happiness flowed from san's eyes as he held you close, his warm embrace making you feel overwhelmed with his love.

"i love you so so much." san cried into your neck as he looked through blurry eyes at you cradling your daughter.

you couldn't even say anything too tired and overwhelmed to give a proper response. instead, you just cried with san holding the baby so close to your heart.

it felt refreshing? calming? something like that to be able to cry away your emotions. even the worries of becoming a mother washed away and instead hope and excitement for the future replaced the negative thoughts. you couldn't believe that you finally have a kid with the love of your life, not even just the love of your life but your best friend in the whole wide world.

god, you were so lucky to have a san in your life and he was just as lucky or even more to have you in his life. now, the both of you were fortunate to have a third in your new little family.

san let out a sniffle before planting a wet kiss to the crown of your head, "my girls."

#the delusions delusioned here #ateez oneshots #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez x y/n #ateez fluff oneshots #ateez fluff imagine #ateez fluff imagines #ateez fluff #choi san oneshots #choi san fluff #choi san imagines #choi san x reader #san oneshots #san fluff oneshots #san fluff #san imagines

[reallyromealone]

hello! Could you please write more about the Haitani brothers with a baby brother? I loved what you wrote above about that.

Title: easy days

Fandom: Tokyo revengers

Characters: Ran Haitani, Rindō Haitani

Pairing: none

Fic type: fluff

Warnings: reader insert, male reader, fluff, child reader, big brother Haitani brothers

🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️🕯️

(name) sat on the plush carpet of his home, the babe watching as Rindō did pushups and crawled towards him and decided that climbing his brothers head was an excellent idea "(name)! No bud! Get off me!" Rindō said trying to get the babe off his head as (name) snuggled into his head, resting across from ear to ear "eeeeooo!" He said into the others ear a bit loudly as the man sighed "yesyes, im Rindō now get that little butt off my head!" He eventually grabbed the laughing baby.

"You learn how to crawl and suddenly you're Spiderman" Rindō teased the other who grabbed at his face.

(Name) Was developing fast, the little one crawling around as he looked for his eldest brother, pushing the bedroom door open to see long blond and black hair draped off the side of the bed and a hand hanging from it. (Name) Crawled towards the sleeping figure and shakily stood on his chubby little legs "ra!" He said happily as he tugged at the silky locks as lavender eyes snapped open like the grudge and darted angrily at whoever dared wake him, looking at his baby brother standing and smiling at him "how did you escape the nanny again?"

At first they thought the nanny was shut at her job but (name) is a tricky baby "come here standing man" ran lifted the babe up, guess he was awake now as (name) sat in his lap "growing up way too fast on me, can't be doing stuff like that" he teased, remembering when he made (name) promise not to grow up to fast, though the babe was still vaguely potato looking.

He just wanted his baby brother to be reliant on him... Just a bit more, before he had to see the harsh world like he and Rindō have seen and built a career out of exploiting it.

The two wanted to make sure (name) had a polar opposite childhood from theirs and never EVER got involved in the shit they did.

"So no growing up, ok?"

"Owki!"

They just wanted this... For a little longer.

Ran and Rindō watched as (name) played with the new toy they got him, a tiny vacuum cleaner that functioned "he's totally invested in it" Rindō laughed as he sipped his drink, been three months clean and drinking carbonated water since.

"He's gonna make the house spotless at his level of dedication" ran said back as (name) mimicked the maid, whom he seen do this countless times over and over.

"If only he could do dishes but the dudes torso is the size of my briefcase"

"Maybe when he's older"

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #tokyo revengers fluff #male reader #baby male reader #baby reader #anime x male reader #anime x reader #rindou haitani #ran haitani

[stayinlimbo]

Returned Call

wc: 765, genre: exes to lovers(?), warnings: cursing in beginning, slightly unedited

note: although i feel this could be read as a stand-alone, here is the sequel to Missed Call you guys were asking for. i hope you enjoy ♡

Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice message system: You know. Lee Minho. Not available. Voicemail. Speak. 

Fuck you, Lee Minho. No, seriously, fuck you. 

Tell me why I was contacted by not one but three of your dancing buddies within the past twenty-four hours about how you’ve been moping around and trudging through your routines for the past week. 

They were all essentially the same. You haven’t been the same since we broke up, is there any way we could reconnect, give you one more chance, blah blah blah. 

You must be doing really bad if one of them was Hyunjin, of all people. 

Two months too late, don’t you think?

As if any of this was my fault.

…

I was getting better before you called, you know?

I finally fixed my sleep schedule. I won’t lie, it took longer than I’d like to admit to break the habit of staying up late for you. At least I was already used to sleeping alone. 

I reconnected with some old friends since I couldn’t talk to Jisung as much without being reminded of you. They can still read me like a book, even after all these years.

I even went on a date. 

Granted, it was with myself, but I like to think it still counts.  

…

You know what I realized on my “date?” And while out with my friends? And on the sleepless nights I spent staring up at my childhood bedroom’s ceiling?

I had forgotten what it felt like to be seen. To be appreciated. To be loved. 

It seems like you’ve come to that conclusion as well, because you’re right. I deserved better. I deserve better. I may have ended our relationship, but I wasn’t the one who left first.

I remember our last kiss, paired with another one of your lies I foolishly kept believing in until I finished the movie night you promised you’d be home in time for. And I remember waking up on the couch with a sore neck to see your fatigued silhouette entering the front door, barely sparing me a glance as you dragged yourself towards the bedroom. 

You didn’t even look sorry. 

How could you, I guess, if you left everything back at the studio?

…

I used to admire your passion, Minho. I hate that I still do. You pour everything you have, everything you can possibly give, into what you love. So why couldn’t you do the same for us? For me?

You say you love me, but why does it feel like I lost something I'm not sure I ever had? 

…

Where did we go wrong? What did I do wrong? I gave everything to you. I gave you my heart, my body, my entire being. I gave you everything until there was nothing left to give.

I never asked for anything outlandish. I think it’s reasonable to want to talk with your partner, to share your lives with one another. I think it’s reasonable to ask about when you’ll be home for our anniversary without being yelled at in front of your friends. 

You want me to be proud of you? You want me to be happy about one of the very things that ripped us apart?

Yes, you’re selfish, but I’m no better. 

…

Maybe this is my fault. After all, no one should feel obligated to love someone. I just never thought it’d apply to us. 

…I wish I could hate you. I really do. 

But all I see is your stupid face smiling at me when I close my eyes. I hear your laugh ringing in my ears when I remember the ways you said or did something ridiculous to make me feel better after a stressful day. I still feel the warmth of your body wrapped around mine when we did wake up next to each other, our legs entwined together to where it was impossible to escape. Not that I ever wanted to. 

I want you to keep smiling at me. I want you to hold me. I want you to miss me. I want you to want me. 

Because I still want you. 

…

I want to give you a second chance, Minho. If things could be different this time, if we could be different. If we could share ourselves, wholeheartedly, as lovers, and not strangers.

I want to fall in love with you again, Lee Minho. 

…

Call me back, when you get the chance. You can keep the shirts for now.

Just please, don’t make me regret this.

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

taglist: @linospuddin @linocz @spicyhyunn

ending note: I hope this didn't disappoint. I really tried my best to make it work with all the angst in here :D. I also tried incorporating parallels from Missed Call so hopefully that wasn't too annoying or anything <3

#lee know x reader #lee minho x reader #lee know #lee minho #skz x reader #lee know scenarios #skz fic #lee know angst #lee know fluff #stray kids x reader #stray kids minho #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids #stray kids angst #stray kids fluff #stray kids fic #skz #kpop imagines #skz scenarios #skz angst #skz fluff #lee minho x you #lee minho x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n #stayinlimbo

[rsmura]

in eight years ୨୧ nishimura riki

( bookshelf ) genre small (?) angst, fluff pairing riki x fem reader word count 2.6k warnings skinship, kissing, not proofread

a/n riki’s birthday special!

december 2015

you and riki were childhood neighbours - having known each other since a few months old, you did everything together. anyone living in your small neighbourhood would call you two ‘attached at the hip’.

you two were always together, sticking up or helping each other whenever you had to - when riki had to go to the doctors, but he didn't want to so he insisted you come along with him; when you got pushed at the playground, so he stood in front of you like the hero he thought he was, and yelled at the other children that you were fragile and couldn't be touched.

when you got a bit older, riki would facetime you with your ipads before you went to bed, just so he knew he was the last thing on your mind before falling asleep, and that he could watch your muffled, unaware face when you had fallen asleep. as he lived next door, you would always randomly hear the bell ring and see riki standing there, holding a duffle bag and his plushies, waiting for you to let him in and have a sleepover. you never mind him sleeping in the same bed as you, though sometimes he would end up hogging the entire bed diagonally. on days that he can't, he would open up his window, yell your name and once he gets your attention, he would wave at you and talk about anything that came to mind.

"so what do you think you're gonna do when you're eighteen?"

"riki that's in like a hundred years!" you would laugh, but actually take the time to think, "hmm, let's throw a huge party to celebrate our last year before turning eighteen! i'll invite mrs snuggles and mrs piggy, and you should invite mr snuggles and mr piggy! it will be so fun!"

"okay! i promise we'll do that!" he would sticking his pinky out, with you doing the same and returning the promise.

but when his parents announced to yours that they would be moving away, both sides' parents knew it would be absolutely heartbreaking for the both of you to know, especially as in your pre-teens. they didn't know how to explain what moving away and leaving really meant at your young age.

your parents ended up brushing it off, choosing to say that the nishimura family would be back soon.

“come back before your birthday then, riki!”

“of course i will, it’s my tenth birthday!” he exclaimed, putting up all ten fingers on his hand, “the most important one! see you in a few days!”

the day after the news were announced, you ran to riki’s house, only to see all lights off. sighing to yourself, you sat on his front door step, hoping he would jump out, squishing you with his weight.

nothing happened, of course.

everyday, you would count how long there was left until riki’s birthday and he would be back. to the point there were only twelve hours left. and riki’s house was still pitch black.

though you were young and naive, you were still mature enough to give yourself a wake up call, and that maybe he wasn't going to come back in time for his birthday.

perhaps you misunderstood what your parents explained. perhaps soon really meant years.

it began as a one-time tribute, knowing riki wouldn’t be home for his birthday, you went up to his house that had a big 'for sale' sign in front, mocking your misery, and placed the small cupcake you had baked earlier in front of the gate.

"happy birthday riki! don't worry! i know you'll come back next year when you turn 11!"

back then, you still had hope. maybe you were just a simple child, not having much to think about, except that your best friend had left you alone without any goodbyes.

leaves started growing back, cherry blossoms coming along, eventually turning brown and falling off again - it was a continuous yearly cycle, and there was still no sight of riki. it was as if he just vanished completely.

being older also meant a wiser mindset, more schoolwork and access to social media. typing in ‘nishimura riki’ to the search engine of instagram, multiple accounts come up, some of them showing random men, none of them being the riki you wanted to see.

no matter what, everything and everyone reminded you of riki. it didn't matter the year, how long you hadn't seen him for - he was always the first person you thought about.

if someone confessed to you, you would reject them, with riki on your mind. if someone sat down next to you, you would wonder what would happen if he was the one sitting next to you. riki, riki, riki. everything was about him.

occasionally you wondered and doubted yourself, were you two not close enough for him to leave a note, or something similar? you felt betrayed, empty, but you knew ten year old riki was not to blame.

sooner than not, years passed and his seventeenth birthday came. remembering the promise he had promised you quite a few years back, you stifle a sniff, before buying a cake for him.

“happy birthday riki, our last year before becoming an adult," you whisper holding the cake towards the house, blowing out his candles for him, with tears failing to stop falling from your eyes. “mrs snuggles and mrs piggy are still waiting for you…”

you realised, slowly, it had already been 7 years since you last saw him. you missed the smell of him, the happiness he radiated. it hurt, not knowing where he went, not knowing if you would ever see him again, not knowing if he even remembered who you were.

december 9, 2023

people have always said life is not a fairytale. you agreed. there were hardships, sufferings - but that's just what life is.

a fairytale on the other hand, is described as magical, perfect, happy and exciting.

so how come now, seeing riki at almost eighteen, sit at the same exact table and spot of your childhood home, that he sat at every single year for your birthday make you feel like you’re the one in that fairytale? how come now, you feel nervous, sweaty and tingles in your stomach? something you would feel when you have to present in front of the class?

his shorter, relaxed black hair had now been dyed in light blonde, with gel slicking back his hair. he had grown several centimeters taller than you, contrary to how you used to tease him for being shorter than you. he wore all black, instead of the bright, graphic tees he did before.

something about his aura and him just simply sitting in front of you, made your stomach do flips. all you could do was stare at him, with your mouth opened the slightest bit.

and riki would notice this easily. how could he not after not being able to see the girl of his dreams for years? when you look somewhere else that's not riki, he stares at you, getting lost in your beauty and admiring all of your features - until you turn your attention back towards him, to which he immediately looks down at his fingers, turning slightly red.

growing up, he had always been surrounded by females. having mainly female siblings, cousins and family friends, he knew almost everything about the gender. he knew the things they liked to do, the mood swings they may get, and the way a female may think.

maybe that’s why riki felt so comfortable with you - whenever he saw you, he would feel a sense of home, comfort, and that he could be himself, something he doesn’t normally feel around others.

“so riki! i’m not sure if you remember this house, but this is your childhood best friend, yn’s house! you guys were super close before.” his mom breaks the silence between the two of you.

of course riki remembers. all he remembers from this neighbourhood are the memories of you two, and nothing else - it’s all he ever thinks about.

he quickly glances at you, then continues to dart his eyes around the kitchen and dining room. "yea. i remember." he whispers softly.

"happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you! happy birthday to ynnn, you smell like a poo!"

"hey riki! that's rude!" 8 year old you pouts and slaps the back of his head while he snickers loudly.

he deliberately sat in that same exact chair he did before, hoping to get a reaction out of you, a slight blush if he could.

“okay now get going.” his mom pulls you two up from the chairs, and ushers you upstairs. “me and yn’s mom have tons of catching up to do.”

stumbling up the stairs together to go back to your room, you don't fail to notice riki's hand squeezing and wrapped around your waist, guiding you along, and the way he somehow remembers exactly where your room is located.

“you’ve matured, a lot.”

he laughs. “well it has been a very long time. if i haven’t, that might be a slight problem.”

laughing along, you sit on your bed and lay down - when you feel the bed dip next to you, you turn to meet riki's face looking at yours just a bit further away, and shoot up.

“oh, sorry. is it okay if i lay down with you?” riki slowly comes up as well, making sure he didn’t make you uncomfortable.

you nod, too afraid your tense voice will give your feelings away. "yea and, happy 18th birthday riki." you smile at him, before laying back down.

you put your hand on your stomach, in attempt to stop the butterflies threatening to erupt and explode out. the cause of it - maybe it was your growing feelings for him, with the close proximity, but the way he feels so close yet still a stranger at the same time, were your only thoughts stopping you from doing anything about them.

at the same time, you feel him scoot closer to you, placing his own hand on yours that was previously clutching your stomach, and caresses it with his thumb. he grins, "thank you yn. you still remember, i appreciate that so much."

"if i didn't remember my crush's birthday, that would hon-" you pause, your brain registering what you had just said, "u-uh."

riki's previously closed eyes were now wide open, staring back at your shocked ones. he blinks furiously, "s-sorry?"

"nothing. i didn't say anything.."

the swallows of your saliva could be heard in the dead silent room, apart from a few birds chirping every so often. knowing you were the cause of this, you try to steer the conversation away to something else, failing after realising there was nothing interesting enough.

"you know," riki decides to break the silence, "i've never felt that many butterflies in my life before."

you pause again, dead in your tracks. had you heard him right? did he just indirectly confess to you?

"and i know, i didn't keep my promise. you don't even know how bad i felt passing my 17th birthday without you. i even tried finding your socials, but maybe you just didn't write your full name in the user, like mine too. do i sound like a creep? oh my god, i sound like a creep." he throws his hands onto his face, covering his eyes and nose.

hearing his joke eases the air a bit, with you chuckling, assuring him he didn't sound like one, and you did in fact try to do the same.

"okay but seriously, i tried to contact you in so many different ways, but i stopped because i thought if you hadn't contacted me either, then maybe the feelings were one-sided."

he started to sit up, leaning against your bed headboard, before pulling you along and letting you rest on his chest and in between his legs, and stroking the side of your arm.

"to be honest, i've actually asked my mom to let me come back here. she immediately agreed and booked the flight, but we had to keep cancelling because of the snow weather. i guess me arriving on my birthday is the perfect time. i want to tell you that i'm sorry i left you with so many what if's, why's and maybe's. i wish i could go back in time and let you know, or even try not to move away. but i'm just happy i can be here with you today, on my birthday, in the house and city we grew up in." he looks down at you, hoping you hadn't fallen asleep, instead to find you with glistening eyes, looking back up at him.

"please tell me you're saying that because you like me, else i don't know what love is anymore."

"of course i do, dummy." he giggles, flicking your forehead.

"riki, i like you too."

he lightly pushes you off him, walking to his backpack laying against your bedroom door, and pulls out a few things, "okay thank goodness. mr snuggles and mr piggy had been waiting for their wifes since 2015. they better reunite soon."

riki still had these plushies? did he know he was coming back for him to take it along with him?

"aw riki.." you coo, opening your blanket to reveal the twos' wifes. "i've actually always kept them with me right here, so i could always be reminded of you." you hold them, staring at riki, as he had an unreadable face expression.

"you still have them on your bed too? ugh you're so cute." you see his expression melt into a cute smile, and his eyes becoming crescents.

only now had you realised how much riki had really changed. of course the appearance, with his newly dyed hair and style, the way he dressed, the small earring he had in one ear, and his chisled jawline. you realised just how much he had grown up from when you last saw him - the way he carefully chooses the right words to say, the way he changes the tone of his voice to suit the right conversation, compared to before where no matter what, he would always be a teaser, and use playful tones to speak.

"what are you thinking about, hm pretty girl?" he hums, lightly grabbing the sides of your head.

"just what you-" you feel a pair of soft lips land on yours, followed by a cheeky laugh, and his forehead resting on yours, all while your brain tries to understand the events that had just happened.

"h-hey! that was my first kiss!" you exclaim, blushing in the process.

he shrugs, "no it wasn't, we kissed before when we were like six." clearly not impressed that you thought he had only just taken your first kiss.

“psh whatever nishimura, just do that again please…” you mumble, to which riki would pull you closer, locking your lips together again, as his hands linger around your cheeks.

"i told you they would eventually get together. it was just a matter of when." both yours and riki's mom stand at the crack of the door, smiling to each other at the fact that they can finally see the long awaited happiness on both their children’s face.

taglist open @euncsace @ibsysbsfsunsbs networks @k-films @kflixnet @/k-labels

© rsmura

#ㅤ⠀ ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝- ˕ -⸝⸝ ྀི꒱ა⠀ #k-films #k-labels #kflixnet #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabbles #enhypen oneshot #enhypen reactions #enhypen thoughts #enhypen headcannons #enhypen soft thoughts #enhypen x reader #enhypen ff #enha fluff #enha scenarios #enha drabbles #enha oneshot #enha reactions #enha soft thoughts #enha x reader #niki fluff #niki imagines #niki scenarios #niki drabbles #niki oneshot #niki reactions #niki soft thoughts #niki ff

[headkiss]

you’ll always know me (pt. 2)

part 1, part 2

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie misses you too much when he’s away, so he comes home again and invites you to join him on tour. the two of you figure some things out, too.

word count: 12.2k

warnings: fluff, some angst (i’m sorry!), childhood friends to lovers, librarian!reader, still idiots in love, and a kiss!!!

a/n: hiii thank you guys so so much for all the love on part 1 of this one!!! i hope u love part 2 (the finale) just as much!!! i really really enjoyed writing these two and hopefully you enjoy it too!!! please let me know what you think <3

♫♩♪♬

It’s about a month later when Eddie has another break from tour.

Rather than hanging around wherever in the world he is for the short time like he normally would on the short breaks, he finds himself booking a flight to Hawkins. Sure, he’ll only be there for about 48 hours, maybe less, but he doesn’t mind.

He really, really wants to see you.

Considering how often he talks to you on the phone now, it’d be tough to surprise you this time, so he doesn’t. Last call, he’d told you he had a couple of days off, with a seed of hope in your chest, you’d asked him what he was going to do, and the happy cheer you made when Eddie told you he was coming home is something he’d never forget.

“Is Wayne picking you up?” You’d asked, knowing Eddie would rather not take a driver if it’s possible.

“He’s gotta work.”

“Why don’t I come get you, then?”

And, well, how could Eddie ever say no to that?

That brings him here, walking along the familiar floor of the Indianapolis International Airport, a beanie tucked on his head despite the weather, a pair of sunglasses over his eyes despite being inside.

He’s lucky that it’s not a busy time at the airport, that people don’t really pay him any attention whenever he’s closer to home. One day, that might change, but he’s glad for now, for the sort of peace it brings.

His suitcase is tugged along behind him, wheels spinning against the tiled floors, his legs are stiff from the flight, his neck has an ache in it from his nap, but the discomfort sort of melts away when he sees you.

Eddie suddenly feels more aware of himself than he ever has around you, the pickup in his heart rate louder than ever. He assumes that’s got something to do with those feelings he’s got for you. Feelings he’s had and only just recognized.

You're standing by your car right outside the doors with the ‘pick up’ sign hanging over them, sweater sleeves long enough to cover your palms and a sign (a flimsy piece of paper, really) with the word ‘loser’ scrawled in sharpie.

“You’re still my loser,” he remembers you saying, that night in his van. That night he kissed you and you kissed him and everything felt exactly right for just a minute.

A soft chuckle leaves his chest as he walks through the doors, and even with his poor disguise on, you know it’s him right away. A pair of black jeans, ripped in the knees, a faded band tee, and messy curls. So clearly Eddie.

You want to say his name as soon as you see him, shout it excitedly and sort of embarrassingly. Instead, you let go of your paper with one hand and wave, bouncing on your feet just a little.

Your best friend, the best boy you’ve ever known, back sooner than you ever could’ve hoped.

A smile splits your cheeks, and a mirrored expression spreads on Eddie’s face, his eyes crinkling behind his sunglasses with the force of it.

When he’s close enough, he drops his suitcase handle and rushes to you, his arms going around your waist and crumpling your piece of paper between your bodies. His hug knocks the air out of you in the best way possible, the smell of his soap and cologne hitting your nose; pine and sandalwood and smoke and something sweet like vanilla.

His hair tickles your nose and you wouldn’t want it any other way. Your arms go around his neck, face tucked against his shoulder.

“Hey, trouble,” he breathes. There’s something like relief there.

“Hi, Eddie,” you say, and it’s quiet enough that he’s the only one that could hear you. He squeezes you even tighter, his hug so crushing you’re standing on your tiptoes to stay in it.

“Thanks for coming.”

You’d go to a lot of places for him, almost anywhere. The Indianapolis International Airport isn’t all that special.

You squeeze your eyes shut for a second, then remember that you’re still in public, that he’s Eddie Munson, and that you’ve been hugging for a long time for something friendly. Clearing your throat, you pull away and tear the edges of your paper between your fingers.

“Yeah, yeah. Get in the car.”

He does, a smile still on his face, though it’s softer now, a little shy. As soon as you pull away from the airport, Eddie tugs off his beanie and sunglasses. He’s often the one driving when you’re together (or, he was when he was always in Hawkins), so he takes this chance to lean his head against the seat and watch you drive.

There’s a small squint in your eyes when you look at some signs, and then he’s thinking about how you’d look in glasses, morning eyes bleary behind the frames. Pretty, he thinks. You hum along to the radio and he’s joining in.

“You’re one-upping me,” you say when he does. “It’s kinda unfair, mister famous singer.”

It’s sort of crazy, how you can say something so simple, so out-of-mind, and it’s enough to wash away any ounce of worry Eddie had that things would be weird now. He guesses you two are too far in now for something like a kiss—the best kiss of his life, probably—to change anything.

Too far into your friendship, of course.

“Stop, we used to sing together all the time,” he says.

“That was before you got a record deal! Now it’s unbalanced!”

“This is the best part of the song, trouble,” Eddie reaches over and twists the volume knob, turning it up, “sing along.”

You’re shaking your head and you’re smiling and just like that you and Eddie are harmonizing on the bridge. It’s pitchy (on your part) and easy (on his) and it’s pretty perfect.

The sun sits lower in the sky by the time you’re in Hawkins, pulling into the trailer park. There’s an orange hue in the sky, fading into pinks and blues.

Wayne’s car still isn’t back from work, and gravel crunches beneath your tires as you park in front of Eddie’s trailer. You look over at him, the time spent in the car talking and singing and soaking in his presence like a plant in sunlight doesn’t feel like enough and it feels like everything at the same time.

“Welcome home, Eddie.”

He glances over at you like he has time and time again on the way, eyes flicking over your features even as you turn to look towards the sunset out the window.

“It’s good to be home.” His eyes are still on you.

-

Eddie tried to wait up for Wayne that night, but he seemed to be working way later than he should’ve been (some things never change) and Eddie was more tired than he thought.

He showered, laid down, and he was out.

He wakes up with hair even messier than usual, his arm stiff from where he’d been using it as a pillow, and indents from the blankets on his bare chest. Telltale signs of a good sleep.

Walking out into the kitchen, that smell of crappy coffee and the sight of his uncle has him smiling, “morning, Wayne.”

“My boy,” his uncle sets down his newspaper to greet him, pushing back and standing up to give him a proper hug, hand slapping his back affectionately. “Back so soon. You missed me that much?”

“Sure,” he says, pulling back and grabbing a mug from the cabinet. “I wanted to say ‘hi’ when you got back yesterday, but I was out.”

“I know,” Wayne chuckles a little, “I checked on ya and found you snoring.”

“I don’t snore!”

“You snore, kid.”

“You have no proof,” Eddie says, sitting across from his uncle the way he has forever. “What kept you out so late, anyway? Car giving you trouble?”

Sinking into his seat a little, Wayne fights a smile, “no, not a car.”

“Wayne Munson! Were you on a date?”

The thought has Eddie grinning. His uncle deserves someone, he deserves to be loved in that way and to be less lonely.

“I’m the parent here,” he says, though it’s clear in the out-of-character shyness that Eddie’s right, “I’m the one who gets to ask questions.”

“I’m happy for you,” Eddie says.

“Shut up and go to the library, I know that’s why you came back.”

Eddie never really stopped to think of the exact thing that pulled him back here so soon. Obviously he wants to see you, he always does, but that hasn’t always been enough to get him home, as awful as that sounds. This time, it’s like he was searching for an opening, any sliver of time so that he could see your face and hear your voice at the same time.

So, yeah, maybe that is ultimately why he came back. And maybe he abandons his coffee mug in favor of getting dressed and driving his van over to the library.

You’re going through your system and finding overdue books, calling people and having to stay sweet even when they’re cold with you. It’s your least favorite task of the job, probably.

Then, the door’s opening and when you glance up to see who it is, it’s exactly who you’re looking for. Eddie, spinning his car keys around his finger, humming softly.

“So, where can I find a book on rock ‘n’ roll?”

“Dork.”

It was only yesterday that he saw you, and still, you’re a total breath of fresh air.

“What, you’re not happy to see me?”

“Of course I am. What are you doing here?”

“Um, hanging out with my best friend. Put me to work, trouble.”

Best friend, best friend, best friend. The words tug at your heart in two ways. One: even though he’s met so many new people, he still considers you his best. Two: you’re only friends.

“Okay, here,” you pat the desk beside you where the phone sits, “you can call my overdue books for me.”

“Sounds good to me.”

He walks around the desk to go behind it with you, pulling over a chair from the closest table and sitting down.

For every phone call you ask him to make, Eddie puts on some sort of voice. A British accent for one, his terrible high pitched old lady voice for another. You’re hiding your giggles behind your hand and you’re definitely not thinking of what your boss might say to you if she found out.

It doesn’t matter, it’ll be worth it to feel this way. Like no time has passed at all, like you and Eddie are kids hiding out in his trailer with the phone book open making prank calls for hours until Wayne had to cut you off. It’s then and now mingling the way they do when you’ve known someone this long.

The door opens again right after Eddie hangs up the last call, right after you’ve looked at each other and burst out laughing because of the reaction he’d gotten on the other line.

“My stomach hurts, Eddie,” you lean back in your chair, and he wipes at his eyes, “stop making me laugh.”

“I can’t help it, I’m just so funny.”

You slap his arm lightly, shaking your head. “So humble, too.”

You sit up when whoever had walked in comes up to the desk, and you find a young boy and a woman who you assume is his mother.

“Go ahead,” she urges him.

Nervously, the boy steps forward, “are you Eddie Munson?” He asks, and it’s then you notice the small Corroded Coffin pin on the strap of his backpack.

Eddie doesn’t really get approached in Hawkins, usually. The people here didn’t really like him for a long time, for the most part, and then they just sort of seemed to accept it. He doesn’t mind one bit, though. He’s lucky above a lot of things.

“Sure am. What’s up, buddy?”

“Could I get an autograph?” The boy asks.

“Totally!” Eddie stands up, grabbing a sharpie and a piece of paper from your desk before walking around it to greet the boy properly.

He kneels down in front of him, gives him a fist bump and wears the kindest smile you’ve ever known. You’re basically a puddle, watching the interaction with fondness melting in your chest.

“Who do I make it out to?” Eddie asks.

The boy looks up at his mom, who nods at him, and he turns back to Eddie, “Frankie.”

“Nice to meet you, Frankie. Sick name.”

Eddie uses his leg to write on the page, scrawling a small message that you can’t make out from where you sit. When he’s done, he looks back at Frankie and hands him the paper.

“There you go, buddy.”

“Thank you!” His smile is so wide, his eyes disbelieving as he shares a look with his mom.

“Thank you,” the woman says. “Sorry to bother you, have a nice day.”

“It’s no bother, no worries,” Eddie tells her, waving at the pair as they leave, “have a good one!”

When he turns back around to face you, you’re smiling all soft and adoringly and he’d sign a million autographs if you’d always look at him that way afterwards.

“What?” He asks, like it wasn’t a big deal.

“That was so cute, Eddie. Did you see his face?”

“What can I say, the people love me.” Eddie shrugs, playing it off. “Think you have some competition for number one fan, trouble.”

Yeah, right. If only he knew about that damn shoebox you have.

“Not a chance, Munson. That spot’s mine.”

-

It feels like you’ve blinked and you’re already driving Eddie back to the airport. Even so, you’re happy knowing that he came home again. It’s like that distance that had painfully wedged itself between you has been growing smaller and smaller, despite him being away.

With every phone call, every laugh, every utterance of the word ‘trouble’ in Eddie’s voice, something welds itself back together, healing over where miles apart had wounded it. Mending like a bone, fractured but never broken.

Beside you, Eddie’s been fidgeting with his rings, twirling them around his fingers as you drive. You’re not sure why, and you haven’t asked, because if he wants to, he’ll tell you and you’ll listen. He’s nervous, that much you know.

Eddie’s been thinking about asking you something for a while, and with how his gut twists when he thinks about not seeing you for months at a time again, he figures it’s worth a shot.

He wants to have you around when he’s doing what he loves, when he feels like he’s on top of the world. He wants you there and he thinks it might feel better than ever that way.

You drive up to the drop-off spot, pulling over and parking the car. Eddie turns to look at you, and you do the same so that you’re facing each other. He’s got a beanie on again, black with a small pair of dice embroidered on the front. There are dark circles under his eyes, and somehow his tiredness makes them shine even more, like the morning sun reflects differently.

“So,” he starts, dragging out the word. “I have a question for you.”

“Okay, shoot.”

Well, he’s gotta do it now, no matter the nerves or the fear of rejection.

“Will you come on tour with me?”

“What?” Is what comes out of your mouth because you’re not sure that you heard him right. Sure, you’ve seen him live plenty of times, but not at this stage of his career, not alongside him that way.

“I want you to come on tour with us, with me. We’re gonna be in New York for a bit, and you should be there.”

“Wow, Eddie, I- what about the library? Or traveling? I can’t afford-”

“A week,” he cuts you off, hand finding yours on the center console, his fingers weaving their way between yours so easily, like magnets finding each other, like it’s meant to be that way. “Come for a week, and obviously it’s covered, honey.”

You want to say yes, you want to shout it and kiss him again, really. Instead you worry a little. The library would be fine, you’ve yet to take any vacation days, anyway, but what if he regrets bringing you? What if he’s asking you on a whim and he doesn’t mean it?

“You really want me there?” You ask, gaze flicking down to your hand in his. His rings are cool against your skin, but his palm is warm, and when he squeezes, it’s an unspoken reassurance.

“I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t, trouble. I promise.”

“You’re serious?”

You’re still looking at your hands, and that changes when Eddie ducks his head to catch your eye, his gaze is soft and serious all at once, his smile sticky sweet.

“I want you there. If that works for you, I want you there.” His thumb runs a pattern over your hand, back and forth again and again. “If you want to, you’re more than welcome, and I'll take care of it.”

You might not even let him leave if he keeps talking to you like that, delicate and kind with zero trace of doubt. None at all.

“Okay.”

“Okay, you'll come?” His hand is holding yours tighter, like hope spills from Eddie’s body and needs somewhere to go.

“Yeah, I’ll come. I’ll have to check with my boss, but-”

You’re cut off by Eddie’s arms pulling you into a hug. It’s uncomfortable, leaned across the center console, seat belt digging into your stomach, but you wouldn’t dream of pulling away.

“I’m so glad,” he says.

Your face is hidden in his hair, your smile hidden just the same. You’re glad, too.

“You’re gonna be late, Munson.”

He breathes you in again before pulling back, “trying to get rid of me?”

“Trying to make sure you don’t miss your flight.”

“I know. I’ll see you soon?”

He’s unbuckling his seat belt, pushing the door open, but he doesn’t move to get out until you respond.

“Yeah, you will. You’ll have to call me, though. I don’t know where you’ll be.”

“I’ll call you, honey.”

When he gets out and grabs his bags, when he turns to wave at you one more time before going inside, it doesn’t feel so bad this time. Your chest feels whole, your smile still on your face.

I’ll see you soon. It feels much better than a goodbye.

-

True to his word, Eddie covered everything. Your flight, booking the hotel, and more he probably hasn’t told you because he knows that you have a hard time accepting him paying for everything.

You’d even tried to argue it over the phone, and he’s said “too late, babe. It’s already done.”

Now, with a week ahead of you, you’re in New York City of all places, trailing your suitcase behind you as you exit the airport in search of the car Eddie said he’d send for you. Black, tinted windows, guy in a suit standing by it. It’s easy enough to spot when most people around are wearing sweats.

“Hi, you’re here for me, I think?” You say to the man by the car, telling him your name and getting a nod in affirmation.

“I’m Hank, nice to meet you.”

Hank takes your bag for you, even when you assure him you could do it. So, with nothing else to do, you open the back door and slide into the car, door swinging shut behind you. You’d fully expected to be by yourself, and okay with it, too, but you aren’t.

Right there in the backseat with you is Eddie.

You practically tackle him in the seat, surging forward to hug him, leaning across the leather to get to him. You’re not sure what carried you to do it. Maybe it’s the fact that he paid for everything, that he wants you to be here enough to do that. That he wants you here at all.

The wind is sort of knocked out of Eddie when your arms wrap around his neck, your hug crushing in his favorite way. He’s not complaining one bit. He’s so excited to have you here to see this world of his, for you to be able to see something you helped him achieve, whether you know it or not.

So, with a huff pushed from his chest, his arms curl around you, too. Smooth and easy.

“Happy to see me, trouble?”

“I thought you’d be busy,” you say, because his question is already answered with the tiniest squeeze of your grip around him. “And you jerk, you got me first class?”

You draw back into your seat when Hank gets back into the car, unsure of how much he knows or how much he’ll say. Not that you’re ashamed for hugging Eddie, but you’re afraid that he might read things the wrong way and you’ll have to (painfully, achingly) correct him the way you did with Argyle a while ago.

You distract yourself by tugging your seatbelt over and clicking it into place.

“‘Course I did. Had to get the best for you.”

“You didn’t have to,” you say, and looking at Eddie’s face you don’t feel so worried about Hank anymore. You practically forget he’s there. “But thank you.”

“Goin’ soft on me?”

His voice is teasing. He deflects because he can’t exactly tell you that he chose first class, that he covered everything, that he flew you out to him because he’s burying his feelings for you into it all, that it’s easier to do these things without you realizing what it means than it would be to come right out and say it.

He needs more time for that. Time to get brave, to see if you might feel the same. If you might let him kiss you again.

“Maybe I’m just tired. Getting delirious.” You’re really not, but just to be safe you add on a small jest of, “loser.”

Still, your tone betrays you, affection woven into the word.

You share a smile with him, eyes sparkling the way they seem to do when you’re with each other. The glow that only appears when you’re in the presence of someone you like this much, someone you know this well. It says enough.

Turning your head, you look out the window, skyscrapers surrounding you, the skyline flying by as you go. Your mouth drops open a little in awe, the busy streets and towering buildings a far cry from the small town you’re so used to.

While you peer outside, Eddie looks at your face in the reflection of the window, accomplishment blooming in his chest at the widening of your eyes and the look on your face.

Shit, he’s so happy to have you here.

It’s not long until you reach the hotel, the sight of the city enough to occupy you for the drive. Even from the outside, it looks expensive, and you’re about to tell Eddie you can’t let him pay for this again when he stops you, “I already paid for your room, so don’t say anything. Just enjoy it, okay?”

“You’re insane, Munson. Wow.”

He knows you mean it as a compliment; he can pick out the intentions from your voice with ease by now, he thinks.

“Wait until you try out the bed.” Eddie pulls on a beanie he’d had in his pocket, then the sunglasses that had been hanging from the neck of his shirt. “Ready to go in?”

“Hell yes. Need to wash the airport off of me.”

“‘Kay.” Eddie then turns towards your driver, “thanks Hank. And don’t worry about the bag, I’ve got it.”

“Of course, Mr. Munson.”

He opens his door and you follow suit, stepping out of the car and watching as Eddie gets your suitcase from the trunk.

“I can take that,” you offer, reaching for the handle as he walks you towards the entrance.

“Kindly, fuck off, trouble. I got it.”

You hold your hands up in surrender, a little too happy with the way his hand flexes around the handle of your bag, too happy with his insistence to do this simple thing for you.

Even though he doesn’t need to, he stands with you during your check-in process, and he carries your bag over to the elevators and down your hallway, too.

“This is you,” he says, stopping at your room even though you’re the one holding the key.

“How’d you know that?”

“‘Cause I’m right next door,” he says, grinning at you, “I booked it, trouble. We’re neighbors!”

“You’re such a dork.” You’re grinning right back.

-

The crowd’s cheers are piercing. Chants of the band’s name covering every other sound in the venue.

You’re backstage, watching them all warm up in their own ways. Gareth tapping his drumsticks together, Jeff shaking out his hands, Eddie bouncing on his feet. It’s a complete whirlwind of crew setting up, of commanding voices left and right and it’s sort of unbelievable to be standing in the midst of it all.

You move out of the way with an apology when a stagehand moves by you with a guitar. Eddie’s guitar, red and black and the same one he’s been using since he could afford the instrument. The familiarity of it has you smiling.

The memories that guitar must hold, you wonder, the places it’s seen.

With his guitar now over his neck, Eddie turns to you, energy practically rolling off of him, like every shout from the crowd charges him up further.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” he says, stepping close enough to talk into your ear, over the screaming and the bustle of the crew. “So fucking glad.”

“30 seconds until you’re on, guys!” A woman wearing a headset shouts.

Eddie pulls back enough to look at your face, but he stays close, his nose inches from yours, his excitement somehow spilling from him and into you. It’s the sort of infectious feeling you get when it’s obvious someone’s doing what they love, when their passion is palpable.

“Break a leg, Munson.”

“Five seconds!”

“See you on the other side, honey.”

Eddie reaches for your hand, gives it a firm squeeze, and then he’s off, jetting onto the stage behind his bandmates. The crowd roars even lowder, enough to leave your ears ringing but you don’t care. You take it in.

It’s one thing to read about it, to see pictures, to see footage on TV, even. But seeing it for yourself is a whole new kind of crazy.

The size of the audience is a far cry from the shows they used to play at the Hideout, the words to the songs being known and sung just the way Eddie had always dreamed. The pride that swells in your chest is huge, a balloon expanding and expanding only you don’t think it’ll ever pop. There’s always more room to be proud of someone you love.

You stand side stage, exactly where Eddie had told you to. Just far enough that the audience can’t see you, hidden by shadows, but close enough that he can see you.

Eddie hasn’t felt this way at a show for a long time. Not to say he doesn’t love every show, because he does, but sometimes the energy will feel different, better, higher. The crowd is a great one, and even more importantly, you’re here.

You’re here and Eddie flicks his eyes over to you constantly during the show because he just can’t help it. The wide smile on your face makes him want to work harder to keep it there, the way you bop along and mouth the words to his music is something he’ll never forget.

You know the words. Of course, you’d known them to the early songs, when his only performances were in Hawkins and you were at every single one. But even now, albums later, you know the words.

And to top it all off, you’re wearing Corroded Coffin merch, a baggy t-shirt tucked into your jeans. God, he can’t stop fucking looking at you.

Between songs, he goes over to Gareth, and then Jeff, speaking into their ears without a mic so you don’t know what he’s saying. But by the gleam in his eyes, you know he must be up to something.

He walks over to the side of the stage where you stand, trading off his current guitar for his acoustic one, even older and worn than the last. The painted letters reading ‘this machine slays dragons’ scratched and faded by now.

You’d been there when he painted them on, giggling at the lopsided way they turned out, pouting when Eddie smeared paint on your bare arm in retaliation.

He’s gone from playing it in his bedroom in the trailer to playing it for thousands of people.

“Alright guys,” he starts, back at his mic. “We’re gonna slow it down for this next one, that sound okay?”

The response he gets is a wave of cheers.

“Alright, alright. Cool.” He starts strumming, chords you recognize right away. “We’ve got a cover for you tonight. I want to dedicate this song to my best friend. This one’s for you, trouble.”

Your eyes are misty with unshed tears. He’s playing your favorite song, the only one you’d ever learned on guitar because you forced him to teach it to you. Your hands go to your cheeks, warmth bursting through you at his gesture.

And he’d called you ‘trouble.’ Hadn’t used your name because this is something that’s just for you and him. Yours.

Eddie flicks his eyes over to you (again) as he sings, his hands moving with ease on his guitar because he’s known how to play this song for ages. Longer than his own songs, even.

His heart sort of melts at the expression on your face, dripping down his ribs in oozing, pink waves.

Even from where he is, even with the lights beaming down on him, he can see the tears in your eyes, the way your hands hold your face the way they do when you’re overwhelmed. He hopes it’s in a good way, and with the way the words of the song are broken up by a smile on your face, he thinks it is.

After the song, with a quick ‘thank you’ into the mic, Eddie walks offstage, towards you again, to switch his guitar back. Before he puts the other one over his neck, though, he rushes to you.

The arm that isn’t holding his guitar tugs you around your neck into a hug. He’s sweaty and breathing hard, his chest rising and falling where it’s pressed to yours, but you don’t care. You hug him around the waist and squeeze.

“Thank you,” you say, loud enough for only him to hear.

“Thank you, trouble.”

A kiss to the top of your head, and he’s off again.

Eddie’s back at the mic quickly, his guitar in place again. “Alright everyone, back to our regularly scheduled programming.”

-

After the show, Eddie brought you back to the green room with the rest of the band, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as soon as he ran off stage to tug you along with him. Insistent but kind in the way he did it, sure not to pull too tight, turning his head to check on you behind him along the way.

Even when you’re worlds away from his, from the fame and the constant travel and the fans, Eddie makes you feel like you’re a part of it. Like you belong here.

There’s a couch pressed to one of the walls in the green room, chairs set up around it for more seating, a table of snacks and water bottles set up near the door.

Conversations happen all around you, crew members, photographers, big paper writers, but yours is seperate.

After the well-deserved congratulations on a great show, you, Eddie, Gareth, and Jeff found your places on the couch, heads turned towards each other. You’re on the edge, Eddie next to you, his thigh, arm, shoulder, all squished against yours.

It’s nice. The warmth of his skin against yours, the post-show adrenaline that has all three of the boys in a great mood.

After all, Gareth and Jeff were your friends, too. Not in the way Eddie’s your friend, of course. You don’t think anyone could ever come close. Being with all of them reminds you of when you’d watch them practice in Jeff’s garage in high school, sitting sideways in a chair they’d left in there for you, legs kicked up on the armrest.

“What a show,” Gareth says. Eddie’s told you before that a good crowd makes a huge difference, and it’s clear in the way the three of them talk about it, the way they smile and shake their heads at what they’ve accomplished.

“I mean, someone flashed me their tits, so it’s definitely a good night,” Jeff, on the opposite end of the couch from you, sighs happily.

You scrunch your nose.

“Gross, dude.” Eddie leans over Gareth to shove Jeff’s shoulder. “There’s a lady present.”

“Come on! She hung out with us in high school. Peak outcast status.” Jeff defends himself. “She’s hardly a lady to me. No offense.”

“None taken, Jeff.” You lean forward to address him, smiling kindly.

“See? None taken, asshole.” Jeff shoves Eddie back.

By doing so, he’s pushed even closer to you, his weight against you further. Eddie stabilizes himself with a hand on your leg, his palm warm through the fabric of your jeans. He leaves it there even when he sits normally.

“So,” Gareth grabs your attention with your name, “how’s Hawkins? Missing us horribly?”

“Let’s just say, the Hideout is pretty boring now.”

“Good riddance.” Gareth teases, giving Jeff a high five.

You know it’s mostly a joke, but it also isn’t, really. These boys weren’t treated right there. Ridiculed for having passions and hobbies that weren’t so conventional. They’re right to be glad to be away, to be glad to be loved now.

Still, there’s a dull ache at the thought that Eddie feels the same. That Hawkins is too small, too awful for him. That you’re not enough for him, having your life there.

Then, you’re reminded of his hand on your leg, and you shake off your thoughts, covering them with a smile.

“You know,” Jeff, the most lacking of a filter of the group, says, “this guy’s a whole lot happier now that you guys are talking a bunch.” Eddie, he means. You know by the way he ruffles his hair.

Eddie shifts in his seat. He wants to tell Jeff to shut up, to stop because he could say too much, could give away too much. He knows he loves you, and he will tell you, he will. But not like this.

He settles for a glare in Jeff’s direction.

“Oh, I’m not-” you start, flustered at the idea of being any kind of reason for Eddie’s happiness, especially being one that causes a noticeable shift.

“No!” Gareth jumps in, “it’s true. He used to grump around the hotel room and yell at us for having the TV on too loud-”

“I did not yell.”

“-and now he doesn’t care ‘cause he’s on the phone with you, anyways.”

“Right!” Jeff again. “First thing he does when we get to a new hotel is lock himself in his room and call you. It’s soooo cute.” He pitches his voice up for the last bit, resting his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, a faux-innocent smirk on his face.

Eddie thinks he might punch Jeff right now. He thinks that often but he’s actually, really considering it (he’s not really, but still). He sounds like an absolute dork, the way Jeff puts it, even though he’s right. Relying on your voice through the phone to make his nights, counting down the minutes until the next time he can call.

He’s so pathetic over you. So pathetic and so in love he doesn’t know how he didn’t see it before.

He musters an: “okay. Shut up.”

That’s when you look at Eddie, who’s spinning the ring around his thumb on the hand that isn’t on your leg, looking down at his lap all sheepish. There’s a tinge of pink spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears that you can see with the way he’s wearing his hair, a messy bun at the back of his head.

It’s fucking cute. You want to kiss him so bad for it. Instead, you hold the hand that’s on your leg, nudging your shoulder into his.

-

The next day comes and goes. You have the day to yourself to explore New York, wearing in your platform mary janes and doing enough walking to wake up a little sore tomorrow, but it’s great.

You eat brunch by yourself in a quiet cafe, your current read open on the table in front of you. The rest of the day is spent being a full-on tourist, which you’re a little embarrassed about, but it’s a big city, and you definitely aren’t the only tourist around.

Well, the rest of the day minus dinner.

Eddie couldn’t join you because of some press stuff, feature pictures for a magazine, a couple of interviews, a small writing session. Of course, he’d invited you along, but you didn’t want to get in the way, and there were things you wanted to see. It worked out.

Nonetheless, Eddie made sure to meet you for dinner, because there was no way he wasn’t going to do anything with you at all. He’s got about 4 days left, he isn’t going to waste a second.

He’s there before you are, signaling you over before the hostess can offer to seat you, and you send her a smile as you make your way over to Eddie’s table. He’s gotten you both a booth in the far corner, an echo of the table you’ve claimed as yours at Benny’s back in Hawkins.

Eddie trusts this place, it’s private and small enough to have no sign or awning outside. A good place to hide in plane sight.

Despite the reminder, the place is much different than Benny’s. Fancy enough to have you kicking Eddie’s leg under the table at the prices, which he tells you not to look at, tells he’s buying and you don’t have to worry. You still stick to the cheaper side of the menu.

So no, it’s not Benny’s, but Eddie still steals food from your plate, still smudges whipped cream on your nose after convincing you to split some dessert with him.

Over bites of cake he tells you about the song they were working on today—leaving out that he’d written a lot of lyrics about you—and how far they’d gotten.

“It’s not done, but it’s getting there.”

“Does that mean you’ll play it for me?” You ask.

“Mmm, I don’t know.” Eddie taps his chin like he’s contemplating. “You did kick me earlier.”

“Hey! I’ve kicked you before without consequence.”

“You know you’re really not helping your case here, trouble.”

“I’ll hear that song, Munson.”

And it’s left at that, because you will. Eddie can't really say no to you (has he ever been able to?) and he misses playing his songs for you before anyone else. Minus those involved in making it, obviously.

With the bill paid by Eddie, after much stubbornness, the two of you slip out the front doors with twin smiles on your faces, so saccharine it’s insane that the two of you are mostly oblivious to the other’s feelings.

Your smiles fade quickly when a wave of camera flashes go off on either side of the doors, surrounding the entrance to the small restaurant.

There’s a rock in Eddie’s stomach, sinking in dread that you’re with him as this is happening. It’s not what you signed up for and it’s not something you deserve.

“Eddie, over here!”

“Who’s the girl?”

“Is that your girlfriend?”

The shouts come all at once, overwhelming and intimidating and you have no idea what to do. Your hands shake a little, your heartbeat a rapid thumping in your chest.

Eddie’s instincts kick in quickly, though, having been through this many times before. This time, it’s worse. This time, there’s you.

He tosses an arm over your shoulder and rests his hand on the back of your head, gently urging you to look down so that they don’t get your face, his other hand grabbing your arm lightly to take you to the car where Hank waits.

Eddie opens the back door and urges you in first, shielding the entrance to the car as you shuffle across the seat to give him room. He slams the door as soon as his feet are inside, telling Hank to head back to the hotel.

Your chests are rising and falling in tandem, a matching rhythm. Scared, overwhelmed, anxious, and all for different reasons. You, from the completely foreign situation. Eddie, from how badly it could’ve fucked things up.

“Shit.” He breathes, and then his hands are on your face, cupping your cheeks to turn you towards him. “Shit, honey. I’m so sorry. I had no idea they’d- are you okay?”

His touch is grounding, his immediate concern being you and your feelings casting a warmth over your nerves, the sun breaking through the clouds of your mind.

“I’m okay. It just startled me.” You grab his wrists in hopes that your touch can help him, too. “But I’m okay. Don’t be sorry, Eddie. It’s not like you called them there. This isn’t your fault.”

“I didn’t think anyone knew me there.”

“People know you a lot of places, mister rockstar.” You’re trying to ease the atmosphere, but the worried furrow in his brows stays put. “Eddie, I’m okay. I swear.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop with that.” Then, another attempt at brightening things, you try to joke, or maybe you’re thinking out loud. “What if they call us a couple?”

Your voice has a teasing lilt to it, but there’s more underneath it. For once, Eddie can't exactly read what it is.

His thumbs stroke over your cheeks mindlessly, his eyes flicking all over your face. So fucking pretty, he thinks. And so his reply isn’t what you expect, but he can’t help it when you look the way you do and when you’re fighting off his concerns with only a few words.

“Would that be so bad?” He says it more than asks it.

It’s your turn to study him, the endearing blush to his cheeks, the way his bangs fall over his forehead, the way his eyes flick between your own.

“No, I guess not.”

For a split second after you speak, you think he might kiss you again, his face barely inching towards yours, his fingertips easing into your hairline.

And then Hank coughs and Eddie’s hands are gone and yours fall away from him, too.

Eddie clears his throat, tugging at the collar of his shirt. Be normal, he urges himself. So, he offers, “how ‘bout I play you that song?”

And when you get back to the hotel, that’s exactly what he does.

-

It’s hours later and you’re still in Eddie’s room. There was the song—the fucking song, played acoustically since that’s all he has in the room, his voice and his guitar and his lyrics—and then a movie paused halfway through so that you could change into pajamas in your room, and then the rest of the movie.

Now, it’s idle chatter, the paparazzi speed bump gone from your minds by now, replaced by a debate on whether or not the movie you just watched was good.

“It was so bad, Eddie. Are you joking?”

“You just don’t have the sophisticated movie knowledge to know good cinema when you see it.”

He’s totally lying. The movie was awful, but Eddie likes to argue with you. He likes the way you scrunch your nose or eyebrows at his stupid jabs, likes the way you’ll smile the entire time because you’re never actually arguing.

“‘Sophisticated movie knowledge,’ he says. Like you haven’t just rewatched the same twelve movies your whole life.”

“And those twelve movies are all amazing!”

“I think to consider yourself sophisticated you’ve gotta watch twenty-five movies. At least.”

“Since when are there rules? Knowledge is knowledge, babe.”

“There are rules since now. We can’t go around letting just anyone say they know movies.”

“Who’s we?”

“Um…”

“Hm?” Eddie urges, a smile growing on his face because he hasn’t had this much fun, hasn’t felt this light, in a long time.

“I don’t know.” You give up, shrugging your shoulders. When a puff of breath leaves Eddie’s mouth, the failed holding back of a laugh, you lean over and shove his shoulder. “Shut up.”

You’re sitting cross-legged in the middle of Eddie’s hotel bed. It’s huge, a king size with like ten pillows and crisp, white blankets. It’s a mess now, the blankets shifted and wrinkled, some pillows tossed on the floor, one on your lap.

“I totally just won that.” Eddie says.

“You did not! That movie fucking sucked, Munson.”

He’s sitting near the end of the bed, half facing you, half facing the TV. After you speak, though, he fully twists towards you, shifting so that he’s leaning on his hands in front of you.

“You wanna say that again?”

“That movie sucked.”

“Okay. That’s it.”

And then he’s on you, his fingers pushing into the soft of your tummy to tickle you because he knows that’s where you’re the most ticklish. This is how he used to win all of the arguments.

“Jerk!” You try to push at his shoulders, words broken by giggles, but he’s relentless. “Get off me!”

“Admit you lost.”

“No.”

“Well, then. Your fault.”

Eddie keeps going until you’re breathless from laughing and attempting to overpower him. As a last resort, you bring your knee up and hit him in the thigh. Being the dramatic he is, Eddie clutches his leg and falls onto the bed like he’s been shot.

“Ow, fuck. How am I gonna perform in these conditions?”

“Oh, stop.” You’re laying beside each other now, your face turned towards Eddie, his up at the ceiling in his fake pain. “I just won, by the way.”

His act falls away after you say it, and you think he’s gonna strike again, tickle you or make another silly counterpoint. Instead, he turns towards you, too, your noses a whisper apart, breath hitting each other's faces.

“I fucking missed you, trouble.”

“Yeah.” Your chest is rising and falling steadily, still recovering from Eddie’s tickles, maybe from his words, too. “Me too.”

Your hair has fanned across your cheek from the movement, and Eddie reaches out to push it away, behind your ear. His fingertips are gentle, featherlight, but they have your face nudging into the touch anyways. Like you couldn’t help it, like it’s an instinct.

And then, in a moment, a simple blink, Eddie’s pushing himself closer, putting his lips on yours. Eddie’s kissing you again.

His hand settles itself fully on your cheek, fingers splayed over your skin, sure to leave behind streaks of gold. Or, at least, you’d think they would. The feeling sparkling in shimmers across your cheek.

Your brain takes a second to catch up, but when it does, you’re already kissing him back, your fingers tucked into his guitar pick necklace to tug him closer. It’s easy, you think, to kiss him. Easy to want this, to move your mouth in rhythm with his.

You’ve only kissed once before, but it’s like you’ve been doing it a lifetime with how right it feels.

Eddie hadn’t even realized he was going to kiss you until he was doing it. His thoughts were all you you you and then his eyes were on your mouth and then he was there, kissing you.

He nudges his knee between your legs, shuffling himself even closer to you without breaking it because he’s afraid that if he pulls away, it’ll be the end and he doesn’t want that. He could kiss you forever, could kiss you until he’s completely sick, until there’s no oxygen left in his lungs because all he can breathe in is you.

Your other hand holds his arm, fingertips just under the sleeve of his t-shirt, his warmth seemingly seeping into you through your hand, spreading down your arm and into your stomach and everywhere.

You really like kissing him. You like it so much.

Eddie’s wondering how he’ll ever let you go home after this, how he’ll be able to say goodbye to you at the airport and go back to touring with his bed empty and nobody to give him shit over a movie. Luckily, he doesn’t have to deal with that now.

No, now it feels like he’s dreaming. Because he’s kissing you and it’s even better than he remembered from last time and he wants to be allowed to do this always.

He leaves it at kissing, this thing too delicate to risk, too long spent building up to this and he wants to enjoy every moment. He’d be content if all he could do is kiss you, because it’s the best thing he’s ever had. You’re the best thing he’s ever had.

It’s long before either of you pull away, a push and pull of your mouths, breaking apart for less than a second before jumping back in. When you do pull away, it’s mutual, both of your breathing coming out in pants, both of your mouths slightly agape, eyes locked on each other’s.

Eddie moves first, pulling you over so that your head is tucked beneath his chin, nose pressed against the neckline of his shirt. He’s got a hand tossed over your waist, palm flat on your back, the other holding the back of your head to him.

You fall into place easily, just like you had when he kissed you. One of your hands is wedged under his neck, the other still on his arm. It’s like you’re a set, two pieces meant to fit together just like this.

“I think I won, trouble.”

“Shut up.”

In the morning, you wake up in a similar position, having fallen asleep with the TV humming in the background and the haze of your kiss still heavy over you both.

Now, however, you’ve shifted a little bit. Eddie’s on his back, but he’d brought you along with him in his sleep. Or, you’d followed. Either way, your head’s rested on his chest, your arm tossed over his stomach where his t-shirt rides up to reveal a patch of skin.

You’re struck with the thought that you’ve shared a bed before, countless times, but never this close. You’ve cuddled before, too, but it’s never felt like this. Intimate, affectionate, more.

You close your eyes and go back to sleep, not quite ready to give this up.

-

When you’d woken up the second time that morning, Eddie was already up, the door to his ensuite shut with light slipping under the doorway. And when he’d walked out with a “good morning, sleepyhead,” it was like everything was normal.

You’d fallen into your routine with him, and now, after not nearly enough time, you’re at the airport again. The last couple of days a blur, your parting ways this morning even more so.

Hank had driven you again, and Eddie made sure to be in the car with you, to squeeze out every second of time left. You’d hugged each other in the back seat, whispered ‘I’ll miss you’s and ‘thank you’s for the week you had.

The ache slipped into you again, the uncertainty of when you’ll see him next, the feeling of missing him that lingers and lingers.

Still, you’d twisted around and waved to the tinted windows of the car with a smile before going inside, knowing he’d be behind them, really hoping he’d be looking.

Of course Eddie was looking. He peered into the glass doors of the airport until your figure was completely out of sight, until Hank had to ask him if he was good to go. He should have kissed you goodbye, he thinks. Should have kissed you and told you how he felt but he has no idea how. Next time, he’ll say it. He has to.

The trek through the airport is boring, and you’re still early by the time you get to your gate. Hoping to pass time, you head into one of the duty-free shops.

That’s when you see it.

There’s a wall of magazines and newspapers, a whole shelf taken up by a picture of Eddie. A picture of you and Eddie. It’s from that night at the restaurant, and you’re lucky that your face can’t be seen, ducked down and covered by shadows and Eddie’s hand.

Surprisingly enough, the picture isn’t what gets to you, it’s what’s written about it. You drift over and flip to the page indicated on the cover to see the ‘full story.’ It feels like a punch to the gut.

‘Metal Heartthrob Eddie Munson was seen leaving a restaurant in New York City with an unknown woman. How could she get his attention, I’m sure you’re wondering. We’d love to know, too. Is Munson the type to settle for a normie? Or is she only a fling? The second option would make the most sense, we think. Keep reading to learn why she doesn’t fit.’

You slam the paper shut, setting it back on the shelf and standing there like an idiot, your hands shaking a little, your heart in your throat.

“Can you believe it?” A woman says to you, pointing at the damn picture. “He could do way better. I’m just saying.”

“Oh. Yeah,” you offer weakly, walking away and finding a seat at your gate.

It stings when you know you shouldn’t let it get to you, but it’s like every insecurity you’ve had has been splashed onto a page for everyone to see. You don’t belong in his world anymore, you aren’t enough to be in it, he doesn’t want you that way.

It’s a disgusting spiral that eats at you as you sit and wait, as you board your flight, even as you find your seat next to a man who’s already asleep. You can't believe the things people feel okay saying about someone else, and even worse, you can’t believe how they wedge themselves under your skin.

You wrap your arms around yourself, peering out the window and trying to convince yourself that whoever wrote it is wrong, that the woman in the store was wrong. But all your mind can conjure is reasons why they’re right.

You aren’t a model, or an actress, or anything of the sort like the other women Eddie’s dated since becoming the star he is. You never will be.

Worst of all, these last few days you really thought he could feel the way you do, even a fraction of it. You thought that he buried feelings he couldn’t say into that kiss, that maybe, maybe he could be in love with you, even just a little bit.

Now, you feel like an idiot for ever letting yourself think that could be true, your eyes blurring with tears of frustration and a hurt that shouldn’t even be there, but cuts deep.

You’re just friends, it’s always been that way. It’s your own damn fault, really, for falling in love with him. Falling in love with the best boy you’ve ever known, with your best friend, with the only person who makes you feel the way he does.

It’s your fault that you let a tear slip down the slope of your cheek as your plane takes off. You wipe it away quickly.

Eddie feels strange as he lays back onto his hotel bed after dropping you off. There’s a cold present in his room now. The evident and devastating lack of your presence, like the chill that washes over a summer day when the sun is swallowed by a gray cloud.

He already wants to call you, but you’re miles in the air by now.

He really should’ve kissed you goodbye.

-

Eddie ends up calling two days after you get home. He wanted to do it sooner, but the whirlwind got to him, and after a week in one place, it was back on the road. He got caught up, but he has the time now, and he’s been eager to use it.

Your number is practically muscle memory by now, dialed without a second thought. He listens to the ringing, fingers pulling at the threads in the rip of his jeans as he waits sitting on his bed. He counts the seconds until you pick up.

Back in Hawkins, it was hard to believe that only a couple of days ago you were in New York City with Eddie, watching him play, having dinner with him, kissing him. Being home, it feels like the whole trip had been a dream.

You fell into your life here quickly, a full day shift at the library, a visit there from Dustin with a stack of overdue books and questions of how Eddie’s doing.

It’s impossible not to think about him, still. So of course you’d pick up the phone on the chance it’d be his voice on the other end.

“Hello?”

Eddie’s head thumps back against the headboard when he hears your voice, “hey, trouble.”

“Eddie.” You were hoping it was him, yet you’re still a little surprised. You shouldn’t be, he’s been calling often for a while now, but you’ve been feeling nervous ever since reading that stupid article. Insecure, stupid, a whole bunch of negatives that won’t leave you alone. But he’s calling, so you try not to think of that. “How are you?”

“Good! I’m good.” He shuts his eyes, tries to picture what you might look like right now. He doesn’t think his mind could ever do you enough justice. “Jeff totally ate shit during soundcheck today, you would’ve loved it. You’re good?”

“It’s kind of weird being back here.” You say, your honesty spilling the way it does over the phone. You’re braver this way. “But I saw Dustin today. He asked about you.”

“Yeah?” The grin on Eddie’s face is immediate, your voice soft and somehow exactly what he needed. “Did you tell him I’m still the coolest guy ever?”

“Sure,” you drag out the word.

“Whatever. I totally am.” There’s a lull for a second, the sound of sheets ruffling on his end as he shifts on the bed. “You said it was weird being back?”

It’s hard to read his tone through a phone, but he sounds sincere as ever, his voice softer when he says it. You shift a little, too.

“A little. Just getting back into things, you know?” You’re on your back now, eyes fixed on a spot on your ceiling. “New York is a lot different than Hawkins.”

Eddie’s not sure what makes him think it—your voice going quiet, the way it takes you a little longer to answer—but he can tell that something’s off. You sound sad, and there’s a twinge in his chest at the thought of you upset. You’re undeserving of it, and he’s got the urge to break the rules of the universe and jump through the phone to be there for you.

“Yeah, it is. You okay, honey?”

The question strikes you. You hadn’t known that you’d been acting any differently, but you suppose that’s how it goes. You can only hide so much, and those words splashed on a page about you have weighed heavy on your mind since you’d seen them.

But you can’t bring yourself to tell Eddie any of it. What if he hasn’t seen it? Worse, what if he has and he doesn’t want to bring it up because he agrees?

So, you come up with a lazy excuse, “oh. I’m okay, Eddie. Just a long shift today.”

“You sure?” Even though he can’t see you right now, there’s something in him telling him you aren’t being honest. It’s like he’s got a sense for these things when it comes to you, embedded in his heart the way you are.

“I’m sure. I’m just tired.”

He knows that there’s something else to it, but he won’t pry. All he wants to do is help, so he lets himself say what he’s been thinking since you’ve left. “Is it pathetic that I already miss you?”

A smile flickers on your face.

“If it is, I’m pathetic, too.”

“At least we’re in it together, then.”

After you eventually hang up, Eddie can’t fight off the feeling that something's happened. He’s gotta figure it out, he wants to fix it, to pull away any pain you might be feeling. He’d take it for himself if he could.

So, although he’ll get endless shit for it, he finds Gareth and Jeff watching TV in the living room of their suite and figures he might as well ask them.

“Hey,” he starts, standing in front of the TV despite their groans to make sure they’ll listen. “Did either of you say something to her? About… um, you know.”

The way that he doesn’t even have to speak your name for them to know who he’s talking about says enough about the ‘you know.’ He’s slightly worried that they’d told you how he felt about you and it scared you off. He really, really hopes that isn’t it.

“About you being grossly in love with her?” Gareth checks, though he surely didn’t need to.

“Yes, asshole.”

“Nope. I didn’t. Jeff?”

“No, man.” Jeff huffs, “and you’re blocking the TV.”

“I know! I need you guys to help me out.” Eddie starts pacing in front of the TV. He explains your phone call, how he felt like something was wrong, that you were upset. They both listen, though Jeff occasionally tries to lean around to see the screen. “So? What do you think?”

“Maybe it has to do with that article,” Gareth says.

“What article?”

“You know, the one with that picture of you two leaving that restaurant.”

“There’s a fucking article about that?” Eddie twists his ring around his thumb. Shit.

“Oh, yeah,” Jeff points towards the small table near the entryway of the room, “it’s over there. Kinda brutal.”

“You idiots didn’t think to tell me?”

“Um, it’s pretty popular, actually.” Gareth shrugs. “Thought you would’ve seen it by now.”

“How are we idiots for helping you?” Jeff asks.

Eddie flips him off over his shoulder as he goes into his room, shutting the door behind him. He’s still pacing, flipping the pages to find the right one. His stomach sinks when he lands on it and skims the words written.

‘Is Munson the type to settle for a normie?’

He makes an actual sound when he reads it. Something of disbelief and shock. He knew that having the life he does comes with these things, and he’s learned to deal with them when it comes to comments about himself. But you? No fucking way.

If he was ever lucky enough to have you, he wouldn’t be settling, he’d be the happiest he could ever be, probably. Maybe it’s time he finds out.

If you’d read any of this, if you believed it, he can’t help but feel at fault. Sure, he didn’t write it, he didn’t publish it, but he brought you to that restaurant and he’s the reason that paparazzi was there. If there’s anything he can do to fix this, he will.

So, he makes a plan. He calls his manager and gets himself a spot on the next flight out to Indianapolis. He can miss a studio session or an interview, it doesn’t matter.

This is far more important. You’re more important.

-

Eddie doesn’t pack anything for the flight. He doesn’t have the time nor the concern to do it. He’s got the beanie on his head, sunglasses over his eyes, and a hoodie pulled over it all.

He doesn’t take the time to get a driver, so he takes a cab back to Hawkins once he lands in Indianapolis. It’s already dark out, probably way too late to head straight to your place but he does it anyway. No time to waste.

Slamming the cab door, he tells the driver your address and tells him to drive quickly. He gets a thumbs up in return and that’s it. Eddie’s forced to sit there, his leg bouncing anxiously as he waits impatiently to get to you.

He should be tired, should be fighting heavy eyelids and yawns, but he isn’t. Eddie’s determined and nervous, eager to get to you and agonizing over whether or not this is the right move.

But, he’s made his choice. He’ll stand by it. There’s no denying the way he feels, and he’d do anything to make you feel okay.

Eddie spends the drive trying to figure out what he’ll say to you. His thoughts are a mess of speeches and phrases that just don’t sound right. He doesn’t think there’s a way with words that really conveys the extent of his affections, but he’s going to try. He figures a four letter word is a good place to start.

His palms are sweaty as the cab pulls up to your place, your apartment in a building that’s been converted from its original use. Eddie grabs cash from his wallet and hands it to his driver, telling him to keep the change.

He stands there and stares for a minute, taking off his hat and sunglasses now that he’s on a quiet, deserted street. He’s got no idea what time it is, no idea whether he’ll be waking you up or not, but he huffs and heads to your door, lucky that he can access it from outside.

With his fist raised, Eddie takes as big a breath as he can muster, and knocks on the door.

You were having a hard time sleeping, tossing around uncomfortably until you gave up and grabbed the book from your nightstand. You’d been mid-chapter when you heard the knocking, almost convinced you’d imagined the sound.

And then it comes again, four quick taps on your door. You don’t have a single guess for who it could be, but you set your book face down and kick your blankets off, turning on your light on your way to the door and squinting at the brightness.

You’re not sure what exactly you were expecting to find on the other side of the door, but it wasn’t this. Wasn’t him.

“Eddie? What the hell are you doing here?”

He takes a second to look you over, his hands stuffed in his hoodie’s pocket. You’re wearing a pair of floral pajama shorts, ruffled at the hem, and your fucking Corroded Coffin t-shirt. Yeah, he made the right choice coming here.

He avoids your question. “Can I come in?”

“Oh! Yeah, sorry.” You open the door further and step aside, closing it after he steps inside. “Aren’t you supposed to be on tour?”

“I needed to see you.”

Needed to. Like it’s bigger than a want.

“Is everything okay?” You ask, leaning against your door. Eddie’s not far, only a step away from you.

“That article was bullshit.”

“What?”

He takes the step, his feet toe to toe with yours now. You’re forced to tilt your head up due to his proximity, his eyes unwavering and still, the way they always are, soft. You fiddle with your hands behind your back.

“That article about us, it was total bullshit.”

“I don’t-”

“I know you saw it, and it was wrong. You aren’t a fling to me, you aren’t a fucking normie. You’re my favorite person in the entire world.”

Eddie’s found, now that he’s started, he can’t stop pouring things out. He pushes your hair from your face, trails his hand lightly down your arm until he’s tugging yours from behind your back, weaving his fingers between yours.

“My favorite, okay?” He continues, his stare flicking between your eyes, like he’s making sure you believe him. “Whoever wrote that is a shithead and I don’t believe any of it. None, honey. I’m sorry that I put you in that position, you didn’t deserve it. But it’s bullshit.”

You can feel your heartbeat pounding in your chest, your fingers squeezing around Eddie’s as he speaks like you’re making sure he’s real. That he’s here and he’s saying these things and he’s looking at you the way he did before he kissed you.

“You-” you clear your throat, voice weak at first from his words. “You came all the way here to tell me that?”

His free hand tugs at the neckline of his hoodie, his gaze flicking down to your hands and then back to your face. “Yes.” There’s the lightest blush to his cheeks, “among other things.”

“Other things?”

You don’t want to guess, shouldn’t let yourself get your hopes up and up and up. But your mind does it on its own accord. What if he-

“I love you,” he rushes it out in a breath, but you hear it all the same. “I’m in love with you, trouble.”

“You are?”

Your eyes are wide, your hand tight around his, and Eddie smiles because he can’t help it. He made the right choice.

“I’m in love with you,” he says again. “I have been for a long time, I think. I only figured it out a bit ago, but it doesn’t feel new.”

“Me too, Eddie.” You barely register your own words, your grin spreading wide or the way you laugh in disbelief. Finally. “I love you, too. For a long time. But I knew it.”

His heart squeezes. He wonders how long, how hard it must’ve been for you to keep it inside while he took forever like an idiot to register his own feelings. But he’s got you now, and that’s more than enough.

“Well, you’ve always been smarter than me.”

“Can I get that in writing?”

And then his free hand is cupping your jaw, his nose nudging yours. “Shut up.”

He kisses you then, broken by your smiles but the best one yet. Because it’s out there: you love each other. It isn’t a question of whether or not, it’s a certainty. You’re in love and you can have this. You have this.

Your hand that isn’t clasped in his holds the back of his neck lightly, your fingers tangled in his curls, keeping him close.

Eddie doesn’t go far when he pulls away, his forehead tilted against yours, his hand still on your face. The corners of his eyes crinkle from his smile, and you can’t help but kiss him again. A peck, another, and another.

“I’ve got like 36 hours. Think I could stay?”

You nod, your smile mirroring his. Lovesick, totally stupidly happy.

“Yeah?” Eddie swings your joined hands lightly. You nod again. “Good. I would’ve had to walk back to the trailer if not. I probably would’ve died.”

“Always dramatic, Munson.”

“But you love me anyways.”

“Guess I do.” Your fingers gently tug at tangles in his hair. “You’re sure about this? Even with the distance?”

Eddie lifts his forehead from yours to make sure you can see his face fully. His thumb smoothes over your cheekbone.

“I’ve never been more sure. Ever.” And he hasn’t, not even when he knew he wanted to do music forever. Because he’d give it up for you if he had to, though he knows you’d never ask him to. “I’ll call you so much you’ll get sick of me. And you can come with me when you have time, and I’ll come home when I have time. I want this so much, okay? So much.”

“I do, too.” You look at your hands, thinking about how you’d always thought they were meant to be holding one another. “You’re okay with dating a normie?”

“Fuck that.” His hand on your face tilts it just a little, urging your sight onto his. “You’re my trouble. Nothing else matters.”

My trouble.

“And you’d really come back to Hawkins more for me?”

“I’m going to.” Eddie understands why you’re asking. In the past, he’s gone quiet, he’s gotten caught up, but after tonight? He’s never gonna hear the end of it from the band, that’s for sure. “You’ll totally get sick of me, you’ll see.”

“Don’t think that’s possible.” You look at his face, the eyes you could never forget, the dusting of stubble across his jawline. A face that’s been on TV and countless magazines, albums and posters. “I always thought you outgrew this town.”

“I never outgrew you.”

You know there’s more to figure out, more worries to be had, but you’re in love and you can say it. That’s what’s important now, that’s what you’ll enjoy.

The shoebox that sits in your closet has served you well, but you won’t need to pick at the scraps anymore. Won’t need to hold onto this boy through magazines and newspapers.

My trouble.

When you kiss again, you’re sure that you’ll never want to be anything else.

♫♩♪♬

hi!! thanks so so much for reading these two <3 i’ve had so much fun with rockstar!eddie and i hope u guys did too!!! if you did, a reblog would mean so much <3

i don’t usually do tag lists, and i probably won’t again after this, but the demand was high for this one (like, crazy! thank u so much!) so here’s the rockstar!eddie tag list

@5sosjay @paleidiot @emma77645 @onceuponathreetwoone @copycatkillerfics @munsonmecrazy @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @lbhmoon @icant-hangout-imdrumming @freakymunson @blackcatwoman @l3xiluve @littlestarfighter03 @yujyujj @totally-bogus-timelady @kimmi-kat @spitefulscreenwriter @amira0303 @mylovelycrazyworld @esme-viridian @pippipsquirtsquirt @brassreign @madneedshelp @emilyslutface @alana4610 @crystalr @kirisuteg0men @hesvoid34 @cutiecusp @nerium21 @angel-ann-pops

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson requests #eddie munson request #eddie munson story #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson rockstar au #stranger things eddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson friends to lovers #eddie munson angst #stranger things x reader #eddie stranger things

[thiswaytwoinfinity]

color up my skies – bob floyd x fem!reader

Bob Floyd is always beautiful. But there’s something about the way the sunset makes his skin glow and the way that Montana drawl makes your toes curl that means you need to have him … even if you’re on the side of the road.

a/n: finally my entry for IBFFM is complete! This is the first fic I have actually written in months and it feels fitting that it would be for Bob, who stole my heart and introduced me to the TGM fandom. I love it here, y’all. I hope you enjoy my offering.

warnings: smut (18+ only) oral (m receiving), fingering, grinding, unprotected piv (in my mind she’s on bc), praise and breeding kink if you squint, truck sex so kind of public?

tagging @attapullman as a thank you for founding the hottest holiday ever 😉 and a h/t to @withahappyrefrain whose post about bob babbling when he gets close rewired something in my brain

Bob Floyd was always beautiful.

You could list a million instances when you felt stunned by him — when he was bobbing his head along to the music at the Hard Deck, observing his fellow Daggers; rumpled and bleary-eyed in the morning, waiting for his ancient coffee maker to hurry up; standing on your front porch and staring at you in awe, despite the fact that you’ve been together for over a year; flushed and panting with fogged up glasses as he lifts his head up from between your thighs — and still think of more.

But right now, with the pink and orange rays of the fading sunlight illuminating his beautiful cheekbones, the wind ruffling the longer bits of hair that peek out from his beat-up ball cap and those beautiful dimples peeking out, Bob Floyd is downright breathtaking.

“Penny for your thoughts?” the WSO asks, taking a sip from the bottle of soda in his hand. He grins softly as he looks over at you, reclined back on your elbows in the bed of his beloved truck. “You’ve been quiet for a while over there.”

You bite your lip, face heating up a bit as you confess, “You’re just so gorgeous, Bobby.” The tips of his ears turn pink at the praise and he takes his cap off and runs his fingers through his hair before replacing it.

“I was just thinking the same thing about you, darlin’,” he drawls, his accent stronger than ever thanks to the week you two have spent back in his home town.

You had been a little nervous when Bob asked you to come with him on a trip back to Montana after the birth of his nephew. Meeting each others’ parents during their brief trips to San Diego was one thing, but spending two and a half weeks in his childhood home? There were so many ways that could test your relationship.

But eight days into your trip, you were getting to know a whole different side of your beautiful Bob.

“I mean it. Montana looks good on you,” you tell him, reaching out to caress his face with your hand. “I like this whole ‘country boy’ vibe you have going on.”

Bob chuckles, warm and deep, as he gently turns his cheek into your palm. Your thumb gently rubs over one of his dimples, a sign that he’s relaxed and happy. “If I had known that taking you to watch the sunset in my truck would earn me all of these compliments, I woulda done it a lot sooner,” he murmurs.

“Guess you should’ve. Maybe you could have wooed me properly.”

You’re teasing of course; Bob is a complete romantic, surprising you with flowers and picnics on the beach and candlelit dinners at home. “Was this how you impressed all the girls in high school? You’d take them for a ride in your truck?”

He wraps his fingers around your wrist and kisses your knuckles before gently entwining your hands together and lowering them to his lap.

“I think you’re overestimating how many girls were interested in me back then,” Bob laughs. You roll your eyes — you’ve seen pictures of your boyfriend in high school, all gangly limbs and round glasses, and you can imagine falling for him back then too. “‘Sides, they all grew up here too. These big fields aren’t all that impressive when you see them every day.”

He leans over and presses one, two kisses to your neck, right above your collar bone. A shiver runs through your body that has nothing to do with the early evening breeze.

“That’s why I saved it for my favorite city girl,” Bob adds, his lips still pressed against your skin. You can feel the smirk on his mouth and it makes you feel a little dizzy.

Bob loved to make fun of you for being a “city girl,” joking about how you were lulled to sleep at night by the sound of sirens instead of crickets and laughing at your refusal to learn how to drive until after college. (Okay, but Bobby, you don’t need a license when you have public transport!) He secretly loved it, though. It gave him a thrill to think about how your vastly different lives converged the day you met at Payback’s engagement party.

Bob’s not sure he believes in fate, but he’s endlessly thankful for whatever forces brought you into his life.

You giggle a little as he continues to kiss and nuzzle his face against your quickly warming skin, hand ghosting up his arm to wrap around Bob’s shoulders and pull him impossibly closer. “Bobby …” you breathe, feeling his teeth gently nip at your collarbone. “Bobby, behave. We’re out in the open.”

Your handsome Navy man just smiles and proceeds to work on sucking a bruise into your neck that will make it very obvious what the two of you got up to when you return to his parents’ house.

“Bob —“ you start again, giving the hair at the nape of his neck a quick tug to try and catch his attention, but all you get in response is a deep groan pressed into your skin. With a smirk of your own, you slide your free hand onto one of Bob’s denim-clad thighs, before giving his hair another, sharper tug. The WSO freezes in place.

“Now, darlin’ …” he drawls, his voice low and rumbly in a way that shoots directly into your core. Bob lifts his head up slowly, his eyes hooded and his beautiful pink mouth shiny and puffy from exertion. “If you want me to start behavin’, you’re gonna need to stop pulling on my hair like that.”

“How come?”

Bob’s big hands come up to cup your jaw, tilting your head so that your eyes are locked on his. Your chest is heaving as you watch your boyfriend’s eyes darken, that beautiful sky blue turning to a seductive sapphire as his pupils dilate.

“Because if you keep goin’, I’m gonna have no choice but to take you right here,” Bob explains. “And I don’t know if I’ll be able to take my time with you out here. Make you fall apart the way I like …”

You let out an involuntary whimper at his words, your eyes fluttering closed as a rush of heat floods through you.

“Or is that something you want, huh?” Bob teases, his lips hovering over yours as he pulls you closer.

“Please, Bobby …” Your voice is breathy, more air than sound as you press your mouth against his. Bob’s thumbs gently caress your cheeks as he kisses you, his tongue sliding against yours as you let out a soft groan. No matter how long it’s been, Bob always kisses you like he’s just gotten back from a months-long deployment and it makes your head swim with delight.

(It also happens to have been a few days since you’ve had the chance to properly make out, which does nothing to calm the desire pulsing in your veins.)

“Missed you,” you sigh in between kisses and you feel more than hear Bob’s chuckle.

“C’mere baby,” he mutters, sliding one hand under one of your thighs and tugging, manhandling you to straddle his lap with ease.

You let out a little squeak before settling down, pressing your crotch down to feel where he’s already growing hard in his worn-out jeans. Bob curses lowly and wraps those delicious arms around your waist to pull you closer, his hips pushing up into yours unconsciously as his mouth trails from yours to your neck, down, down until he’s peppering kisses across your chest and the top of your cleavage. You can feel the edges of his signature BCGs dig into your soft flesh as Bob works his mouth along the neckline of your sundress.

“Did I ever tell you how gorgeous you look in this dress?” Bob asks after running his teeth lightly along your décolletage. “Drives me crazy when you wear it, just wanna pull it up and bend you over, doesn’t matter where we are.”

“Bobby!” you gasp, your nails scratching lightly up and down his biceps. Though he was a perfect gentleman on your first few dates — he even waited for you to kiss him first, blushing deeply when you tugged his face towards yours at the end of your third date — it didn’t take long for Bob to learn how much you liked it when he voiced all of the dirty thoughts running through his head.

It still takes you by surprise sometimes, the way your mild-mannered boyfriend can get you wet with just a few filthy comments.

And fuck are you already wet, rolling your hips against Bob’s as his talented fingers slide the straps of your dress down your shoulders so he can have better access to your chest. “Need you, need you so bad,” you keen, arching your back to push your breasts closer to your boyfriend’s mouth. “Bobby, please.”

“Okay, okay,” he mutters, pulling back from your chest with a luck of reluctance obvious on his beautiful face. “Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” he adds, stilling your hips in his lap. You only realize you let out a whine because of the way he’s rubbing his big hands up and down your sides, trying to soothe you. “Just wanna get you somewhere a little more private. I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.”

You nod almost frantically, your bottom lip between your teeth to try and hold back your moans. Letting out a deep breath, you slide off Bob’s lap and hop down out of the truck bed, your thighs squeezing together when you watch the way his biceps flex as he lifts the tailgate back into place after following.

He holds his hand out to you and you grab it, practically running around to the front of the truck and yanking the door open. Bob holds back a moment, waiting for you to climb in, but instead, you turn him by his hips and push him back into the cab so that he’s sprawled across the bench seat.

“‘M I not moving fast enough for you?” he asks with a laugh, planting one leg on the floor of the car and swinging the other up onto the creaky leather as he slides towards the driver’s side.

In response, you simply grin, before climbing in after him and pulling the door closed behind you.

But instead of laying yourself on top of Bob — which he’s clearly expecting you to do, the way his arms are hanging open to make room for you — you crouch down in the footwell and reach for his belt.

“Wait, baby, you don’t have to —“ he starts, before cutting himself off with a jolt when you cup his blue through the front of his pants.

“I want to,” you insist, fingers quickly working to open his belt and his jeans. “Want you. Want you so bad, Bobby. Next time we’re not staying at your parents’ house. I can’t go this long without touching you, it’s all I can think about.”

Bob tosses his head back with a moan, his hips lifting up as he helps you tug his pants and boxers down enough to free his hard cock. It slaps up against the bottom of his stomach, flushed and already wet at the tip, twitching slightly when you reach out to wrap your hand around the base. You wait a beat for him to lock eyes with you before you lean in and wrap your mouth around the tip, swirling your tongue around it to gather up the bit of precome pooling there.

“Oh, darlin’,” Bob practically growls, the deep timbre of his voice making you moan as you start to bob your head up and down. “Such a perfect fuckin’ mouth. You’re so good to me, baby. So g-good.”

You pull off and give him a long lick from base to tip before attempting to swallow down as much as you can at once. It took a while for you to be able to deep throat Bob like this — he’s so much bigger than anyone you’ve ever been with before, thick and long and just slightly curved in a way that makes you feel so deliciously full — but Bob was patient and understanding and now you like to show off for him whenever you can.

You pull off to catch your breath, a thin line of spit connecting your mouth to him, before leaning back in working your mouth down to his base, his public hair tickling your nose. You swallow around him and the feeling of your throat closing around his cock makes Bob jump and swear, a fist coming up to hit the roof. The quick buck of his hips makes you cough and sputter and he lifts your head off of him for a second to check in.

“Sorry, sorry. I just wasn’t expecting that, felt so damn good I lost my mind for a second,” he rambles, chuckling softly, his thumb rubbing at the corner of your smiling mouth. “You okay there?”

Instead of replying, you just giggle and nod, nipping at the tip of Bob’s thumb before you get back to what you were doing, sucking and licking at his cock while stroking whatever wasn’t in your mouth. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Bob’s stomach flex as he pants and moans above you, words of praise falling from his lips in a dazed ramble.

“So beautiful, you’re so beautiful like this, my gorgeous girl.” A loud moan interrupts his declarations, those big hands sweeping up to hold your hair back out of your face in a makeshift ponytail as you swallow him down again. “Yeahhhhh, just like that baby, good girl. God, you’re so good to me, love it when I can feel myself all the way in your throat, shit.”

You pull off to breathe before swallowing him down again, fingers cupping and caressing his balls as you hold him there, tip brushing against the back of your throat, enjoying the way Bob’s thighs shake and his hands tighten in your hair.

You repeat the action a few more times, tears staring to run down your cheeks before he suddenly tugs your head up and away from his cock.

“Don’t wan’ come down your throat, darlin’, need to come inside you,” he rambles, petting the sides of you head absently, his eyes fixed on your chest as the straps of your dress slide further down and reveal the soft satin of your bra underneath. “Please, baby, please let me fuck you, gonna fuck you so full ...”

The edge of desperation in Bob’s voice makes you surge up from the floor, climbing into his lap as you kiss him, all tongue and teeth and desire.

“Yes, Bobby, yeah,” you say against his mouth, tugging at his white tee shirt until he pulls it up and over his head. The sight of his broad, defined chest makes you rub yourself against him, sticky wet panties brushing against the hot ridge of his hard cock.

As you roll your hips again and again, the lace catches against your clit, making you moan loudly as Bob lifts his hips into yours.

“You’re so wet, darlin,’ I can feel it, I can feel how you soaked right through your panties,” he says, eyes closing briefly at the sensation, before they fly open and he finishes tugging the bodice of your dress down to your waist. He gives your breasts a quick squeeze, letting out a soft grunt before teasing and pinching at your nipples through the thin fabric. “Such a sweet girl, my good girl, and you get so fuckin’ wet just from sucking my cock.”

“Bobby, please, fuck me,” you moan, hips working more frantically against his, chasing your high as he whispers naughty encouragement to you.

“I will, baby, I will,” he promises, voice soothing despite his movements bringing your closer and closer to the edge. He sits up properly in the seat, grabbing you by the hips and moving your body against his. “Wanna see you come like this first, watch you fall apart in my lap, love it when you get desperate like this.”

Bob drops one hand to your lap, working it up the skirt of your dress to meet your soaked panties.

With a low curse, he slides his hand into them, pressing his thumb against your clit and rubbing in steady circles while you throw your head back and moan at the feeling of his hands on you.

“Fuck, Bob, right t-there, I’m so close baby,” you babble, hips continuing to swivel as you grind against his hand, his cock, edging further and further to your peak, nails scraping down Bob’s torso. His murmured little “c’mon, come for me,” helps push you over with a shout, your body shaking and trembling in his arms as he works you through your orgasm.

“Juuuust like that, so gorgeous baby, so good for me,” Bob says, his thumb slowing down against your clit as you come down from your high. When your eyes flutter open and you take him in, cheeks flushed and glasses slightly fogged from all of the exertion. He barely gives you a moment to catch your breath before he pulls your panties to the side and begins sliding his cock into you.

You give a shout that turns into a high-pitched whine as you feel the head of him press inside you. “Bobby, Bobby, Bobby,” you babble, walls still fluttering a little as you go to slide all the way down his cock, needing him inside you as quickly as possible.

“Uh-uh, darlin’, slow,” he chastises, grabbing your hips to still you about halfway down his cock. “Don’t wanna hurt you, just take your time, you’re doing so well for me.”

It feels like time slows down as the two of you work to get every inch of him inside, tiny little movements of your hips helping you to take more and more until your hips meet.

You take a moment to reach behind you and unhook your bra, tossing it to the side before snatching Bob’s hat and doing the same. He doesn’t even seem to register your decision to rid him of his hat, already fixated on your bare chest, moving to suck one of your peaked nipples into his mouth with a moan.

“Love these tits, baby,” he mutters against you and you card your fingers through his hair in response. It’s a little sweaty from hiding under his hat in the heat all day, but you can’t get enough of the way Bob groans and whines as you tug at the longer strands and scratch your nails against his scalp. “Gotta move, darlin’, gotta fuck you now.”

“Yes, yes,” you say, lifting your hips until just his the tip of his cock is still inside you and sliding back down.

“Shit, baby, jus’ like that,” he encourages, words already beginning to slur together as he gets drunk on pleasure. You repeat the motion and he smirks, before tugging one nipple between his teeth to make you keen. “You wanna show me you know how to ride? Huh? C’mon city girl, ride me.”

Bob’s voice gets a little breathy towards the end of his taunt and your moans get louder as you feel him press against that spongey spot within you on each downstroke.

For a while, the only thing you can hear is the sound of skin slapping together, punctuated by groans and growls and the occasional whine when Bob pinches or tugs at your nipples with his teeth, the tiny spark of pain making the pleasure more delicious. He’s so tuned into you that he can sense that you’re getting tired almost before you do, wrapping his arms around you and adjusting so that both of his feet are planted against the floor of his truck and he begins thrusting up into you, giving your burning thighs a break.

His hips move quickly, punching little “unhs” out of you with each thrust, tip bullying your g-spot relentlessly. Your walls begin to tighten and flutter against him and Bob frees a hand to rub two fingers against your clit in a slow, steady motion that contrasts beautifully with the speed of his thrusts.

“Oh my g— fuck, Bob, feels so good. You feel so g-good, love you so much.” You’re not even aware of what you’re saying, words spilling out of your mouth mindlessly as you let Bob bring you closer and closer to your orgasm. “Need to come, Bobby, I’m so close, wanna come for you, please, please,” you beg, peppering kisses all over his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, anywhere your lips can reach.

Bob’s fingers speed up, his mouth dropping open to let out a low groan, his face flushed and eyes glassy.

“Yes, good girl, just like that,” he encourages, the bottom of his glasses starting to fog up as a result of his exertion. You moan loudly at the sight, tossing your head back and losing yourself in the feeling of Bob’s talented fingers, his cock, the tension inside you building, building. “Come for me, beautiful, please. Let go for me, so perfect, so good to me, can’t believe you’re mine – shit.”

Your boyfriend’s praise tips you over the edge and you feel that band inside you snap, your vision whiting out at the edges as your walls clamp down on Bob’s cock. You’re shaking and moaning in his arms, gushing around him as he murmurs and works you through it. “Love you, love you, yes, yes, love you baby,” pressed into your clammy skin as Bob can’t bring himself to lift his mouth up from your chest, shoulders, neck long enough to speak clearly.

You come down from your high with one last shudder, walls fluttering around him and making him moan against you. You lean back to take a look at his face - pink and sweaty, a smile on his puffy lips and looking more beautiful than you think you’ve ever seen him before - before cupping it between your hands and kissing him.

You’re not sure how long the two of you just sit there and kiss, could be seconds, could be minutes, but you’re too lost in each other to care.

Eventually, though, your hips start rolling again in his lap, causing Bob to let out little whimpers and moans against your mouth. He lets his teeth tug at your bottom lip before pulling back and pressing his forehead against yours. “God, you feel so good, honey,” he says, eyes locked on yours as you begin to ride him properly once again.

“Wanna make you feel good, Bobby,” you coo, one hand threading through his damp hair and the other caressing his jaw.

“You a-always do, so good to me, so good baby,” he rambles, breath hitching every time you squeeze around him. “Don’t know how I g-got so l-lucky, can’t believe you’re mine, dar-darlin’.”

Bob’s hips begin thrusting up jerkily to meet yours, his eyes starting to get glassy behind those big frames. Knowing he’s getting close, you gently tug on his hair, short little bursts of pain that drive him crazy and get his hips moving faster.

“Jusss like that, god, you’re taking me so well, doing so well,” he says before grabbing onto your hips and holding you in place and thrusting up into you almost frantically. “Wanna be with you all the t-time, wanna fuck you every day, every night, keep you - yeah, do that again baby, pull my hair like that - keep you full of me.”

You moan at the idea, loving the thought of Bob just taking you whenever he pleases.

“Yeah? T-that what you want? I’ll do it for you, do any-anything for you, gonna fuck a baby into you one d-day and make our own little fa - I’m so close - family,” he cuts himself off with a few more high-pitched moans, eyes slipping shut as if he’s picturing your future together.

The idea of being with Bob, having kids with him, settling down and spending your lives together, hits you like a freight train. You don’t think anything has ever sounded better to you.

“Want that, Bobby, want to be with you forever, wanna have your babies, please, Bobby,” you babble, hands running all over his hands and shoulders to pull him closer, hold him tighter.

“Fuck, fuck, yes, anything you want darlin’, oh my -“ he comes with a shout, eyes squeezing tightly shut and fingers holding onto you so hard that you will probably have bruises on your hips later. (You hope you do, you always wear all of the marks Bob leaves on you with pride.) You feel him twitch inside you, liquid heat making you feel impossibly full. He gives one, two little half thrusts as he finishes, before loosening his grip on your skin.

Fully panting, Bob takes a moment try and catch his breath before opening his eyes slowly. The look of pure adoration on his face almost knocks the wind out of you.

“Well,” he starts with a chuckle, pressing a few chaste kisses to your shoulder. “Nothing like that ever happened to me in high school.”

You bark out a surprised laugh, giggles spilling out as you watch Bob grin and then duck his head. The sun has almost fully set by now, pinks and oranges fading into purples and blues as the two of you laugh in Bob’s truck, faces flushed and glowing in the dusk.

In a minute, Bob will clean you up and help you get dressed, gently kissing you with each item of clothing you wrangle back on.

He’ll give you a look of confusion and then surprise when he realizes that his hat is somewhere underneath the seat and he’ll run his fingers through your hair to help you tame it before settling into the driver’s seat. He’ll rest one of those big, warm palms on your thigh as he drives you both back home, looking over to smile at you at every stop sign and red light.

You’ll both giggle, cheeks warm and eyes downcast when Bob’s mom asks about your afternoon over dinner and he’ll mentally start picking out engagement rings when he watches you bounce his nephew on your knee when the family gathers in the living room afterward.

Later that night, after you’ve both shyly admitted that you were serious about the promises you made to one another in the truck, Bob will smile as he watches the moonlight illuminate your sleeping face.

But for now, you two just enjoy this perfect moment, wrapped in one another as the crickets begin chirping outside. And neither you nor Bob think you’ve ever seen the other look more beautiful.

.

(Are we still doing readmore sacrifices?) Either way, please reblog or comment if you enjoyed!

#international bob floyd fucks month #top gun maverick fanfiction #tgm fanfiction #tgm fic #robert bob floyd #bob floyd fic #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd fanfiction #my beautiful husband bob floyd #bob fucks

[totaly-obsessed]

can you do a millie bright x reader where it’s their wedding day and the whole team are there and it’s just really fluffy and cute:). love your writing so much

Tears of Joy

Millie Bright x reader request

-> Marrying the Love of your Life

-> sorry for the delay - I hope you like it!

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

After waiting and planning for months on end – maybe even your entire childhood, the day was finally here. You were getting married!

Sure many dreams from your childhood wedding plans came true, but you didn’t quite find a prince charming, more of a princess charming – your very own knight in shining armor, the one and only Millie Bright.

As soon as you hat met Millie all those years ago in a Social Media meeting for Chelsea, you knew that she was the one. But the gentle giant had been quite scared to come up and talk to you – so you had to take the first step.

While the blonde looked intimidating it only took speaking to her once to see that she really wasn’t – maybe more so on the pitch, but luckily you didn’t have to face her there.

Millie had blushed a deep red when you caught her arms as she frantically tried to leave the meeting room, something you had not expected.

“Hi Millie, would you like to go on a date with me?”

Of course, she knew who you were, the new head of media for the women’s branch of Chelsea and she had spent the last four meetings just staring at you.

While you had felt confident walking up to her, seeing her face contort into a frown and lines appear on her forehead changed your mind quickly and you removed your hand.

“Or not – sorry that was a stupid idea.”

She couldn’t pull you in a hug fast enough. Dear god. If she hugged you like this, you never want to hug another person.

“I wanted to act cool and act like I wasn’t sure… But I would love to!”

To this day Millie and you could laugh about how much more stressful it had been than it needed if she had just said yes immediately.

---

 ---

While you had taken the first step to dating, Millie had been the one to ask the big question. She had just come home, even though she had been at home the entire time, from winning the Euros – and emotions were at an all-time high. Your girlfriend was now officially the champion of Europe.

You had been the first person she had seen out of the stands, her parents pushing you forward when you wanted to let them go first, after all, she was their daughter. “Don’t be silly love!” Had been what her mother said once she saw the blonde making her way towards the barriers.

“I did it, Baby! I fucking did it!” She was in tears, face still hot from running on the pitch for such a long time as she pulled you into a passionate kiss, not caring the slightest about all the cameras.

“You did so well my love! I am so proud of you!”

She would never forget the look on your face – she had never seen you look so proud of anybody, and now you looked at her like this. Her heart? Melted into a puddle.

Your girlfriend didn’t wait for long, lifting you over the barrier and pulling you as close to her as she could.

“My god Mills, leave some for me!” It was Rachel who finally pulled her sweaty best friend off you, just to replace her, giving you a bone-crushing hug.

“Off Rach! That’s my girl! Get ya own!”

The ‘DalyBrightness’ duo had always playful banter between them, and you were no stranger to it either, often getting roped into it somehow by Rachel, determined to get Millie angry – but the taller one of the two could only laugh about it every time.

The whole evening and night was spent partying, first in the dressing rooms, then in a chosen location with friends and family. Trafalgar Square was the next destination, where the girls would meet the nation they had made so incredibly proud, just the evening before.

After all the meetings and interviews had finally calmed down, you got your girlfriend back. Millie had finally arrived at home, in your shared south London house and the first thing she saw was your dogs Hera and Zeus. But upon lifting her head, the defender saw that they flanked both of your sides, while you held a beautiful ‘Welcome Home’ cake in your hands.

She couldn’t kiss you fast enough after seeing your nice gesture and cute smile.

“I love you much my love, and I don’t think I tell you enough. But I really do.”

The first thing you did after not seeing each other for such a long time, was napping. In the big bed, ready to sleep the day away. What you didn’t know, was that Millie woke up way before you and found herself staring at a beautiful ring in a little box.

Today was the day.

After making dinner she had asked you. She didn’t go down on her knees, so she pulled out a box, opened it, and just sat there for a second until you finally turned and noticed the ring.

“Mills?”

“Marry me?”

Choked up on tears you couldn’t do anything but nod. “Yeah, baby. I’ll marry you.” The kiss that followed tasted like tears, tears of utter joy as Zeus and Hers ran through the room yapping as if they knew what had just happened.

---

 ---

The day was finally here. Yours and Millie's wedding day. In retrospect you could not have chosen a better day, even if you obviously had not known how the weather would be – it was perfect.

Getting ready was a long process, not even physically, but rather mentally. But there was not a single doubt in your mind, that you would marry the love of your life.

You were ready when a knock sounded at the door and your sister who at the same time was your maid of honor opened it. The door was only open a smidge so you couldn’t really see who was behind it, while you talked to your bridesmaids.

“It’s go-time people!”

Your heart fluttered. But you were not nervous or anxious, no. You were excited and nearly ran out of the room with the bridesmaids to get to the altar, but your sister stopped you in your tracks, insisting that you had to wait somewhere else until the rest of the wedding party walked down the aisle.

Now stood in a room you waited for your sign. Fuck. Now the nerves were coming up. In your head, you went through the plan again, when you heard someone clear their throat.

It was Millie. There she was, dressed in a gorgeous white jumpsuit – looking at you like you hung the moon. “Baby! “You cannot see me in my dress before the wedding!”

Tears brimmed in both your eyes as you stared at your fiancé who couldn’t keep standing there any longer, so with brisk steps the blonde rushed forward and engulfed you in one of your favorite hugs. Your hearts find each other and beat in unison.

“How are ya feelin?” She rested her forehead on yours while staring at you as long as she could. “Nervous. Excited. Incredibly happy.“

The music inside was slowly getting quieter and you knew that you didn’t have that much time left. “I thought we could change the plan a little.”

Turns out Millie's idea was brilliant. Instead of just you walking in, both of you walked in together, no one would give anyone away. This would be a union of love between you and her, but that didn’t mean that either of you had to say goodbye to your family.

You could hear the gasps as you walked down the aisle, arms hooked together, each of you a flower bouquet in hand, the biggest smiles anyone had ever seen on your faces. You looked magical.

---

 ---

In the end, you don’t even know how you got through the vows, all you remember were a lot of tears, and an incredibly passionate kiss that was met with screams of joy from the audience.

After all of your families had congratulated the both of you, your Club mates made their way towards you each of them with big smiles on their faces.

Niamh was the first at your side and was the first to pull you into a warm hug. “You look like a princess. But one of those badass ones, that doesn’t need a white knight to save them.”

“I will need a cheaper ring for daily use, this one belongs in a bank in a safe deposit box.” Millie's joke was met with a lot of laughter as Sam came over and after hugging you as well, took a closer look at your ring. “Maybe! That is a fucking rock Mills!”

„You’re one to talk.“ Hempo received a  slight nudge from her captain while everyone else laughed along.

One after the other Chelsea and Lioness teammates alike made their way through the masses, hugging you with congratulatory tones and singing praises. Most of them even brought presents which they gave your sister for safekeeping.

“I can finally call you my wife.” Millie had stolen you away from the open space for a second and pulled you close for a deep kiss.

“My wife, huh? That has a nice ring to it.”

Not only were you her wife now, but she was also yours. Married. Oh dear god, you were finally married to the girl of your dreams. “Best day of my life.”

“Then I am excited to give you better ones.”

“God. you disgust me.” Neither of you had seen Rachel invade the nice little space Millie and you had created for the two of you

“Rachel!”

#woso x reader #woso imagine #woso #woso imagines #engwnt x reader #lionesses x reader #millie bright x reader #millie bright #chelsea wfc x reader #chelsea wfc

[wh0re43van]

Reflections- (Warren Lipka X Reader)

Summary: You’re Spencer’s older sister that had to come home after getting kicked out of college. Upon the return, you’re reconnected with the walking asshole that is your brothers best friend.

Word count: 7k

Warnings: smut, weed, alcohol, mention of roofie, slow burn, hate fuck

A/n: I managed to cut this down a good bit, but this is the best I could do because I love plot I’m sorry 😭 also I’m very high so this probably isn’t proof read very well- I will be proofing it better in the near future!

I hang out my window, breathing in the night air after I take a hit off my joint. I sigh, wondering what I’m still doing in my childhood bedroom at age 21. I got kicked out of college two months ago and I still haven’t gotten my life back on track. I have a job interview lined up and I’ve been painting commissions, but I just feel like I’m 14 again. My parents made it seem like I’ve completely fucked up my life and paint me as the pot smoking-drop out, so maybe I should just embrace it.

I groan when I realize that I’ve been thinking too long and joint my has gone out. I hold my favorite zippo up to re-light it when I hear my door fly open, knocking into my dresser. I gasp, whipping around quickly as I accidentally launch my lighter across the floor in the startle. I groan in annoyance when I see my idiot brother and his even more idiotic shadow standing in my doorway.

“Close the door you fucking idiots! Mom’s down there!” I whisper angrily. Spencer pushes Warren into the room and closes the door quickly.

“Sorry,” my brother says awkwardly.

“Damn. You still smoke even after it, like, completely ruined your life?” Warren laughs, motioning to my joint.

“Oh shut up. I got caught with a single gram on campus and they made a big deal out of it; I mean come on it’s 2004 for Christ sake,” I roll my eyes, irritated that he would even bring that up, but it is Warren, so I expect nothing else. “What do you two fuck heads want?” I ask as I walk over to turn off my iPod so I can hear them better.

“Nothing! Uhm just wanted to see how the best big sister in the world is doing,” Spencer laughs unconvincingly as he attempts to lean casually against my dresser, knocking over my perfume bottles in the process. “Shit,” he mumbles as he picks the plastic bottles up off the floor. I roll my eyes, not believing him for a second. Warren looks at Spencer, scoffs, then looks back at me.

“We want you to buy us beer,” he says flatly with his hands in his pockets. I raise my brows at him, now it’s my turn to scoff.

“You come in my room, give me a heart attack, almost let mom know that I’m smoking, knock over everything on my dresser, then ask me to buy you beer?” I ask, trying to understand why they thought this was a good idea. The boys look at each other then back to me.

“Yes,” they say in unison firmly, but not confidently.

“Get the fuck out,” I sigh. Spencer mutters ‘sorry’ before turning to walk out the door. Warren closes the door behind my brother then looks at me, tilting his head to the side.

“Why are you such a bitch?” The grungy boy asks curiously. I give him a face of disgust.

“Because you go out of your way to piss me off.” I huff, stepping closer to him, sticking a finger into his chest. He smacks my hand away.

“Ew,” Warren gags dramatically. “Don’t touch me,” he mutters before turning around to open my door, flipping me off then closing it behind him.

I plop down on my bed grabbing a nice, soft pillow, then shove it to my face, letting out a blood curdling scream.

‘Why!? What the fuck did I do to deserve this?’ I think to myself. I quite literally feel like I’m back in middle school with: Dumb and Dumber constantly pestering me, Warrens stupid fucking remarks, hiding in my room with my joint, and my parents being disappointed in me. Jesus, this is all such awful déjà vu.

I Take a deep breath, then make my way to the bathroom for a long, hot shower. I walk into the hall bathroom then turn on our shower to warm up the water. I strip down then turn on the shower radio to the local rock station. To my pleasant surprise, they’re playing ‘Scum bag’ by Greenday.

‘Best infomercial purchase mom made this month,’ I think to myself as I lather up my body wash, letting out a content sigh. I finally start to relax.

Knock, knock, knock 

“Y/n, I have to piss!” Warren shouts through the door. I groan, flinging the shower curtain open after turning off the water.

“Hold it, Butt-fuck! I just got in,” I shout back in annoyance. He bangs on the door again.

“Just let me in!” His voice is muffled coming through the wood.

“No, Warren!” I huff, wondering how one boy could be so annoying. “Piss outside!” I scream over the music, then turn the water back on and resume my shower. His knocking continues for another minute or two, but he eventually gives up.

I finish my shower in peace then wrap the towel around myself. I quickly run to my room and close the door behind me.

“What the fuck!” I shout when I see warren standing in my closet with his hands behind his back.

“Don’t you know it’s rude not to knock?” he snickers. I scowl at him, holding the short white towel to my body as tight as possible.

“It’s my- What the hell are you doing in here?” I ask exasperated as I step towards him.

“Spencer says you do that nerdy makeup shit for ren fairs or whatever, and I need to borrow your supplies,” he sighs, sounding irritated even though he’s the one snooping though my stuff. I fiddle with my towel, uncomfortable at how his gaze keeps wondering down to where the fabric ends, barely long enough to cover my ass.

“What the fuck do you need that for?” I frown, not understanding why on earth he would need special effects makeup. His eyes follow a trickle of water that drips from my hair down my chest and between my breasts. I shift awkwardly, wishing that this interaction would end already.

“That’s not important,” he steps towards me. “Just let me see what you have,” he says simply with his hands in his pant pockets. I groan in frustration.

“No, you fart-catcher! I just caught you going through my shit, get out!” I scream, stomping my foot in anger, which causes the towel to slide off my breast a bit. I quickly pull it back into place, my cheeks burn pink from embarrassment and anger. Warrens eyes flutter from my chest up to my face, his lips curl into a small smirk.

“Alright,” he shrugs before walking towards my door. With his back to me, he takes his wallet out of his pocket and drops it on the floor. “Y/n,” he tisks, looking at me over his shoulder with that ever familiar mischievous glint in his dark eyes. “Would you pick that up for me? I can’t bend over, I hurt my back at my last game,” he asks with mock sincerity, his gaze focused on how short the towel is. He knows if I bend over my entire ass will be exposed. I look at him with pursed lips, furrowed brows, and bright pink cheeks, letting out an irritated sigh. He grins at how successfully he’s pissed me off.

I stomp over and open my bedroom door, then stomp back to his wallet, kicking it as hard as I can out the doorway and down the steps.

“Get out!” I seethe as I shove the snickering idiot out of my room, locking the door behind me. I groan, flopping down face first onto my bed. I lay there a minute, before deciding to smoke a bowl and get my pajamas on.

I retrieve my bowl and my stash from its old hiding spot behind my bookshelf.

I break up the weed and pack the small bowl, then I realize that I cant find my lighter. I check my bag again, then look around my window and on the floor. I let out a loud groan, kicking my nightstand in anger. My nerves are completely shot, this minor inconvenience is about to send me on a rampage.

With a defeated sigh, I grab a cheap Bic lighter out of my purse. I wouldn’t care so much if it wasn’t my favorite lighter. The silver zippo was a gift from an ex-boyfriend. He had my name engraved on one side and the skull and bat wings from the cover of the Avenged Sevenfolds ‘Waking the Fallen’ album on the other. It’s the single coolest possession I have.

I grab my iPod off the speaker, then hook my headphones into it before climbing out my window onto my roof. With the cheap plastic lighter I take a hit then lay back on the cool shingles, my muscles relaxing as Rob Zombie plays in my ears. I close my eyes as the crescent moon shines her white light down on my face. I take another hit, sighing happily as I get comfortable. Finally, some peace.

‘Hold on,’ I shoot up, furrowing my brow in thought. ‘I dropped my lighter when numbnuts busted into my room. I never picked it up, and when I caught warren in here, he had something behind his back… Warren,’ my epiphany makes my ears burn red.

“Goddamn it Warren!” I shout, completely fed up with his shit, as I clamber back through my window. “Why the fuck is that shit head here all the time,” I mumble to myself as I put my bowl away. I spray some air freshener and close my window before stomping down the hallway, barging into my brothers room. Warren sits by himself in Spencer’s bed, playing some stupid video game on the PlayStation- my brother no where in sight.

“Where is it?” I bellow, standing between warren and the tv like an angry mother. I hold my hand out in front of his face as if the little asshole would just hand it over.

“Dude! Get out of the way!” Warren groans, his eyes not even meeting mine as he uses his foot to scoot me out over, but he knocks me off my balance and I fall directly on top of him.

“Warren!” I squeal, managing to catch myself with my arms on either side of his head. We exchange a shocked look before that stupid, sly smirk creeps onto his face, reminding me that I’m furious at him. “Give me my shit!” I shout in his face, hovering over top of him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he shrugs, his smirk never faltering. This is it. He’s going to make me snap. I grab his shirt pulling his face up to mine, my face flushed In anger.

“I see through your little act,” I say through gritted teeth, almost in a whisper. He looks at me with wide eyes. “You act like you’re hot shit. You think that just because you sell a little green on the side and pocket other peoples shit that you’re a man, but you’re so far from it. You’re just a 19 year old boy who still needs his daddy to wipe his ass for him,” I all but spit into his face, leaning closer with every syllable. His face slowly contorts into pure rage. He stands up from the bed and pushes my back against the wall.

Warrens hostile glare burns deep into my eyes as his hands grip my shoulders so hard that his knuckles turn white. The drywall is cool on my hot skin as warren peers down on me, making me feel so small in his grasp.

“You don’t know shit about me, bitch!” Warren says in a tone that I’ve never heard from him before- he nearly growls at me. This shows that I’ve seriously pissed him off; I smile up at him, unable to hold back the joy- and a bit of excitement - bubbling in my stomach. His lips are pulled in a straight line, nostrils flared and his jaw locked as he grips onto my shirt, making his biceps flex.

“Unfortunately, I know you very well, Warren. Your entire life you’ve been putting up this front of false confidence. Always thinking you’re special, somehow always convincing yourself that the rules don’t apply to you; You’re a pathetic burn out,” I say simply, batting my lashes up at him, enjoying the reaction- and our proximity. His nostrils flare as he pounds his fists on either side of my head.

“You’re the fucking burn out!” He raises his voice, a bit of spit lands on my face as the harsh words drip from his tongue. I reach my hand up, wiping the salvia off.

“Yeah, but I can admit it,” I whisper as I lean up to his flushed face, our noses brushing against each other. I do mu best to ignore the stirring in my stomach when our skin touches. Warren glances down at my lips, his chest still heaving with anger and his arms resting by my head. His angry eyes meet mine. The moonbeam coming through the window illuminates half of warrens face in a white light. I just now notice how much he’s changed. How mature he looks now, especially when he has me backed against the wall with a death grip on my shoulders. He just begins to dip his head down when the bedroom door swings open.

“Sorry man, mom wanted help with- Woah…” Spencer pauses, almost dropping the snacks from his arms. Warren jumps back, the rage on his face replaced with shock as my brother looks between us with a slack jaw. Warren clears his throat awkwardly.

“You need to control your sister, dude,” he gives me a dirty look, walking up and taking a bag of Cheetos from Spencer. I step away from the wall, adjusting my outfit.

‘What the fuck just happened?’

“Uhm, no. Spencer you need to control your friend. He’s a fucking klepto! He took the lighter kyle got for me!” I explain as I point accusingly at Warren who’s already settled into the bed, munching on the junk food

“Oh, you mean the guy that cheated on you?” he asks before he takes a sip out of a two liter of dr. pepper. “Twice,” he adds before letting out a gross belch. I look at him in disgust, then in offense. My ears burn red in anger once again. I let out an irritated grunt as I push past spencer towards the door.

“So it’s no then?” Spencer asks, stopping me in my tracks.

“What?” I ask as I turn to face him. My brother glances between Warren and me.

“You’re not gonna help us?” Spencer asks, looking confused.

“Spencer what the hell are you talking about?” I groan, still upset about what was happened with Warren.

“He didn’t even-“ Spencer scoffs, turning to look at Warren. “You didn’t even ask her?” He asks his friend. Warren just shrugs as he picks up the PlayStation controller.

“For the last time I am not getting you idiots beer,” I groan.

“No! We need your makeup skills,” Spencer explains. Warren stands up from the bed, stomping in disapproval.

“We don’t need her. We just need the makeup,” he groans nudging Spencer a bit. I look at the boys in extreme confusion.

“Explain,” I sigh, rolling my eyes.

“We’re Uhm, doing a project and we were wondering if you could make us look like old men,” Spencer says avoiding eye contact, scratching the back of his neck. He’s acting even weirder than normal.

“Uhm, yeah. Hypothetically I could if I had the proper products,” I say putting my hands on hips, wondering where this conversation is going.

“No. We just need the products we don’t need you,” Warren whines, seeming even more admit on keeping me out of their plans than usual.

“Okay whatever. Give me the money and I’ll get you guys the shit tomorrow evening,” I sigh.

 ‘I’m such a good big sister’

“Well we have that party with Chas tomo-“ Spencer starts but Warren slaps his hand over my brothers face.  

“Party?” My ears perk up.

“No,” Warren says sternly. “We’re not bringing your lame ass to the party of the year,” he groans.

“No party, no makeup,” I shrug, crossing my arms. Spencer pulls Warren’s hand away from his face.

“Deal,” Spencer smiles. Warren gives him a death glare as I skip out of the room.

-

-

The next evening I’m stood in front of my closet sifting through my clothes. I have to admit that I’m excited to be getting dressed up. I settle on black denim mini skirt, studded belt and a cropped and distressed Misfits shirt. I take the time to do my makeup, smudging the black pencil liner around my eyes and applying a burgundy lip stick.

“Y/n come on!” I hear Warren shout from outside. I run over and stick my head out my open window.

“I’m coming!” I holler before slamming the glass shut, then shove my smoke bag into my purse.

I hop down the steps, skipping past my mother.

“I’ve never seen you so excited to go somewhere with those two,” my mom attempts a joke as I slip on my beat up converse.

“Free alcohol,” I shrug with a smirk before skipping out the front door.

“Y/n,” my mother’s disappointed voice gets cut off by the heavy wood slamming shut. I giggle to myself as I run to Chas’s car. I hear the door open again and my brothers foot steps approaching behind me.

“Come on guys were so late!” the meat head shouts from the driver’s seat window. My brother and I scramble into the car. Before I realize it, I’m sandwiched in between Warren and spencer with Chas and some nerdy guy in the front.

As I search around for the middle seatbelt, I notice warren staring at me. he’s wearing a white t-shirt that fits him very well with a pair of light, baggy blue jeans. It appears that he even took the time to brush his hair. He almost looks good.

“What?” I scowl at warren, wondering why he’s looking at me like that. He clears his throat, shaking his head a bit as if he didn’t realize he was ogling at me.

“J-just wondering why you let a clown do your makeup,” he laughs. I huff then punch him in the arm as hard as I can, causing warren to scream out.

“See this is-” I start to shout but I’m cut off when Chas whips his steering wheel sharply, sending me flying toppling into warren and causing warren to hit his head on the window.

“Shut up!” Chas groans. Warren and I exchange angry looks as we settle back into our seats, the rest of the ride is quiet.

-

-

The house packed full of sweaty college kids bumping and grinding into each other. The smell of alcohol and B.O flood my senses as I shimmy my way through the sea of kids packed in the narrow hallway. I finally make it to the kitchen where a bunch of frat boys are shot gunning beer. Girls surround them, completely wasted but doing their best to root for whichever guy they’re planning on fucking tonight. The loud, shitty, pop music rings through my ears as I step closer to the commotion. A tall blonde guy from the back of the group turns to me, looking me up and down with a grin.

“Hey you want in?” He holds his hand out, offering me a Budweiser. I consider it, but decide that I don’t want to be covered in beer all night.

“Uh, nah,” I nudge his hand away from me. He is cute though. “But I’ll cheer you on,” I smirk, looking up at the random guy, holding up my house key. The boy grins from ear to ear, taking the key out of my hand. He punctures the can before quickly opening the tab, downing the beer almost professionally. I cheer the boy on with words of encouragement. He drops the can to the floor then holds his hands up with a righteous scream, the crowd goes wild. He turns to me, wiping his face then slings his arm over my shoulder.

“Wow, I’m impressed,” I laugh. He adjusts his crooked snap-back as he leads me to the dance floor.

“Yeah you should be,” he chuckles as he guides me through the crowd of dancing bodies.

We dance for a few songs, slowly getting more handsy with each other. As my back bumps against him to the beat of the song, I make eye contact with Warren from across the room. He has a drink in one hand and his other on a girls waist as she kisses on his neck.

To my surprise, rather than looking away, he holds my gaze his he runs his hand down her back, grabbing her ass. I fight back a blush that attempts to creep onto my cheeks by averting my gaze.

‘Disgusting.’ I mentally barf as I turn my back to warren, wrapping my hands around the boys neck, his hands instinctively fall to my hips. He leans closer to my ear as we dance lazily in step with the beat.

“So what’s your name?” the boy shouts over the music.

“Y/n,” I answer, smiling up at him. “What about you, shotgun champion?” I giggle.

“Ethan,” he smiles. “Well, y/n, I’m going to go get you a drink,” he winks. I smile, thanking him. Once I tun back around, I notice that warren and the girl are gone.

‘Damn, that dude moves quick,’ I wonder how he manages to get girls to sleep with him so fast when he’s so insufferable and annoying. I dance by myself for a bit as I await Ethan’s return.

“Here you go,” Ethan smiles, handing me a red solo cup full of what appears to be spiked Hawaiian punch. I smile, thanking him as I accept the sickeningly sweet drink. I hold the plastic to my lips, but before I can take a sip, it’s knocked out of my hands. The cold liquid spills down my shirt before the cup hits the ground.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I hear the familiar tone of Warrens voice shout as he shoves Ethan against the living room wall. Everyone around us stops, turning to see what fight is about to break out. My cheeks burn red in anger and embarrassment.

“Waren what-” I manage to shout in the confusion. “You’re such a fucking asshole!” I shriek, completely fed up with his bullshit. I stomp towards the staircase, all eyes on me as crimson punch drips down my chest and legs. I open every door in the hallway until I find the bathroom.

I slam the door behind me before leaning onto the sink, looking at myself in the mirror. I scream out in frustration, my pulse beating to the bass of the music downstairs.

“What the fuck is wrong with Warren?” I complain to myself as I grab a handful of paper towels, attempting to absorb the drink that has soaked into my outfit. I pause when I hear the doorknob turning behind me. I watch Warrens figure appears in the bathroom mirror.

“Are you okay?” he asks as he steps towards me. His tone.. it almost sounds... concerned. I ignore his possible sincerity and instead throw the sopping wet paper towels at him.

“No, I’m not fucking okay! You ruined my outfit!” I scowl at him. His once concerned expression quickly contorts into the ever familiar annoyed glower he’s always dawning in my presence.

“You’re so fucking stupid y/n!” Warren shouts, stepping closer to me. The yellow lights highlight his clenched jaw. My mouth widens in disbelief.

“Excuse me?” I ask, now pissed off even more. Warren leans back, pushing his hair out of his face then groans in irritation.

“You almost got fucking roofied y/n! I knew that guy was bad news. I happened to be walking past the kitchen when I saw him drop something into your drink!” he explains while pacing in front of me. I roll my eyes, not believing him.

“Oh come on! You expect me to believe that? With your track record, I have every reason to believe that you were just being an immature asshole finding a way to fuck with me,” I step up to him, looking into his eyes that are flooded with frustration.

“Are you fucking- I just saved your ass big time!” Warren shouts, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

“Oh please,” I roll my eyes, crossing my arms, too angry to look at him. Warren sticks an angry finger in my face.

“You are such an ungrateful fucking brat,” he says lowly, his tone sends chills down my spine. He grips my jaw, turning my head to look up at him. The angry boy glowers down at me, his face just inches from mine. “Say thank you,” he demands through gritted teeth. I roll my eyes once again.

“Fuck. You.” I whisper looking directly into his apoplectic eyes. After a beat, he grips my jaw even harder, yanking may lips to his. I freeze in shock for just a second before returning the instantly bruising kiss. I wrap my arms around his neck, suddenly desperate for his touch. Within seconds, years of pent-up aggression and sexual tension finally comes to a head.

“You piss me off so much,” he growls against my lips as his hands grip my ass so tight it hurts, making me bite back a whimper. “Jump,” his voice comes out a gruff whisper. I obey, jumping to wrap my legs around his waist as he backs me against the wall, his lips never parting from mine. His nails dig into my thighs as he begins to grind against my crotch, the friction making me moan lightly against his lips. Anger and lust course through my veins as I tighten my legs around him, forcing his hips closer to mine. As much as I want to hate this, the truth is that I’ve never wanted any man more than I want warren right now. I’m disgusted with myself, but oh so desperate for the boy I’ve despised most of my life.

“Fuck, I hate how much I want this,” I whine desperately against his lips, pulling away only to slip off my shirt. Warren chuckles before setting me onto my feet. His chest heaves as he strips himself of his white t shirt.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to see you like this,” he says softly, his eyes following his hand as it glides gently over my body. I shiver under his touch as his fingers easily undo my bra, I allow it to fall to the ground. His eyes meet mine as he undoes his belt. “Bend over,” Warren smirks, motioning to the counter top.  Biting back a smile, I happily turn around, resting my elbows on the counter. I spread my legs and wiggle my ass, knowing that he has a full view of panties under my mini skirt. I feel his hand push the denim fabric up, then he slides my underwear down my legs, leaving me exposed to him.

“Holy shit,” he groans quietly as he dips a finger into my sopping heat. He drags my slick up to rub circles on my clit. I bite my lip in attempt to hold back a whimper. “Is it me that you’re this wet for, or do you just have some weird degradation kink?” he asks as he slips a finger in my entrance, I gasp at the contact.

“Oh shut the-“ I begin, but cut myself off with a loud moan as his hand comes down harshly on my ass, the slap rings through the bathroom.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he laughs as he slips another finger in, pumping faster. His other hand brushes over the stinging handprint left on my ass. I whimper at how good it hurts.

 I hate how right he is. I hate how much he’s enjoying this. I hate how he knows exactly where to curl his fingers inside me to earn the loudest moan. “Mm that’s the prettiest sound that’s ever come out of your mouth,” he chuckles as he reaches his other hand around to toy with my clit. I arch my back, biting my lip in an attempt to keep the symphony of pleasure from spilling from my mouth. I’m trying desperately not give him the satisfaction of praise, but it’s proving to be impossible.

“You’re such a dick,” I say lowly, unable to think of a good comeback as my eyes flutter shut, that familiar tension in my stomach building.

Warren pulls away completely, leaving me feeling empty and irritated. I stand up with a frown, spinning around to yell at him, but he grabs my arm and my waist, repositioning me back over the counter.

“Uh uh,” he chuckles using one hand to grip my hair, holding my head up so that I can see him in the mirror. With the other hand, he drops his pants and boxers, giving his- much larger than expected- length a few good bumps. My knees buckle at the sight behind me. “You’re gonna stay just like this and watch me fuck you,” he growls as he uses his foot to kick my legs a bit further apart. I watch his reflection as he brings his fingers up to his mouth, spitting on them before spreading the slick gently over my folds. As he lines his length up with my entrance, he holds my gaze through the mirror, sliding into me slowly. He lets out a loud groan, his grip on my hair tightening.

The way that he fills me up is unlike any other. Squeezing my eyes shut, I do my best to hold back my whimpers as I adjust to his size. He gives me only a few seconds before he starts slamming into me.

“Fuck!” I scream in shock as I clasp my hands over my mouth. Warrens strong grip is soon ripping my fingers away from my face.

“Now You’re want to be quiet? After all the times I’ve told you shut this pretty mouth of yours…” he grabs my cheeks, sticking a finger in my mouth as he rams his cock into me. “Now you want to hold back?” He lets out a devilish chuckle, before slapping my ass even harder than last time. He uses my hair to pull my head up making sure that I’m watching him.

His strong grip holds tightly onto my hair and my waist, making the veins very prominent in his arms. His toned torso glistens in a thin sheet of sweat as his hips buck mercilessly into me. My toes curl when I see the way he’s watching me. His eyes are dark with lust as they study every feature of my body in the mirror. His jaw hangs slack, but there’s a never faulting smirk on his face as if this is something he’s been waiting on for a while.

He releases my hair to reach down and rub figure eights onto my sensitive bundle of nerves. That and they way that he’s hitting the perfect spot with every deep thrust and the way he looks at me is enough to send me over the edge.

“Fuck! Warren!” I moan out in such a pathetic tone that I can’t believe it came from my own mouth. My legs begin to shake and breathing becomes shallow as I clench around him.

“That’s it baby. Scream my name in pleasure for a change,” he growls in my ear. My eyes are clenched shut, but I can hear the smirk in his voice. If the music wasn’t playing 100 decibels over OSHA standards and every single person wasn’t black out drunk, I might be concerned that someone might hear us.

“Oh god… fuck Warren! I’m cumming please don’t stop! Just like that please!” My words come out a desperate whine with each breath punctuated by his hips thrusting into me as I come undone around him. My legs give out as pure euphoria floods my system. My eyes roll back in my head as Warren holds me up with help from counter.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he grunts out, his thrusts becoming sloppy and erratic as low growls and moans slip out between his heavy breaths.

Warren pulls out of me as I lay with my head down on the cool counter trying to collect my thoughts. I feel him release onto my back. The warm seed dripping down my ass as strings of profanities fall from Warrens kiss bruised lips.

“Holy shit,” he pants out in a whisper. I hold my head up to see him in the mirror behind me, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. His chest rising and falling quickly as he wipes sweat from his forehead. As if he could feel me looking, he opens his eyes. That stupid fucking smirk quickly returning on his flushed face. He watches his cum drip down my ass and onto the floor. He silently walks to the toilet paper, then- to my surprise- he cleans me up. Silently, with a content smile, he wipes himself off me.

“Uh, thanks,” I say shyly with a bit of red creeping up to my cheeks. I find my underwear and slip them back on as Warren puts his pants on.

“Don’t mention it,” he winks, very obviously proud of himself.

“So uhm,” I start as I slide my dress back on. I don’t even know how to act; I feel so awkward and it’s pissing me off how casual Warren is being. “Do we just chalk this up to the alcohol?” I rub my neck awkwardly as Warren pulls his shirt over his head. He lets out a light laugh.

“Well I’m not drunk. Are you?” He asks, already knowing the answer. I shake my head no as find my sticky, stained skirt and step into it. Warren chuckles, walking up behind me looking at our reflections in the mirror. “Well, on the bright side I made your make look better,” he laughs with a wink, motioning at the mascara running down my face and burgundy lipstick smudged around my mouth.

“Oh fuck off!” I huff, shoving him. He slaps my ass one last time before opening the door and stepping out. I look at myself in the mirror, waiting for the feeling of disgust to overcome my body… but it never comes. As I wet a paper towel and attempt to make my face look presentable, I can’t help but smile. The smile turns to a giggle. The giggle turns to a loud laugh. I cannot begin to explain or even understand what I’m feeling, but pure joy is bubbling through my body. It must be some kind of weird post nut clarity.

I grab my purse then step out the door, expecting Warren to be gone, but to my pleasant surprise, he’s leaning over the banister right outside the bathroom.

“What are you doing?” I ask as I step up beside him, assuming the same position.

“Trying to spit in people’s drinks,” he says flatly, not looking my way before a blob of spit falls from his mouth, landing on some random girls forehead. She looks around in drunken confusion, unable to identify the source. “Hey bonus points,” he laughs, turning to me with his hands held up in victory. I roll my eyes, but I’m unable to hide the smile that creeps onto my face.

“I uhm- I think I’m gonna walk home. I need a shower,” I tell him awkwardly. I’m so unsure of how to act now and him being so normal isn’t helping.

“Oh, I’ll walk you,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets. I look at him in confusion.

“What?” I ask, unsure if I heard him correctly.

“I’m going to walk you home, dumbass,” he shrugs taking step, expecting me to follow behind him- I do, of course.

We push through the crowds of dancing kids and out the front door. My ears ring as we step out onto the empty street, the silence is quite the change from the loud frat party behind us.

We walk in almost comfortable silence. My house is about a 40 minute walk away, but it seems so much shorter as I’ve been using the time to sort out my emotions- which I’m not having much success with.

I grab my cell phone out of my pocket, texting Spencer that I’m headed home so that he doesn’t worry.

“Who are you texting?” Warren asks simply as if he’s been trying to find something to start a conversation. He pulls a pack of menthols out of his pocket, holding the box towards me. I smile, taking one of the sticks and popping it into my mouth.

“Spencer. I figure I should let him know where I went,” I explain as we walk down the dim and empty sidewalk. The cool late summer air makes the orange flame flicker in the wind as it illuminates Warrens face in the evening dusk. The end of his cigarette glows a dark crimson as he lets out a puff of smoke. He stops, then looks down at me as he rests his fingers on my cheek, his other hand bringing the lighter up to my cigarette. I stare up at him, admiring how the orange light highlights his handsome features. The flame reflects in his dark eyes that are fixated on my lips. I breath in, igniting the cig.

“Thanks,” I smile, exhaling through my nose as we resume our walk.

“Ya know, I really did save your life back there,” Warren grins with a nudge from the same hand that’s holding his cigarette.

“You actually saw that dude slip something in my drink?” I ask, looking at him with raised brows.

“Yep. That girl I was dancing with was leading me up to one of the bedrooms when I saw the douche go into the kitchen. The dude looked the type, so I followed him in there, sure enough as he was walking away from the table, he slipped a tablet in your cup,” he shrugs as he takes a long drag.

It takes me a minute to process his words. It seems that he was actually looking out for me.

“But… Why? I thought you hated me. Now you’re saying that you left a hot girl who was trying to get in your pants just to make sure I was safe,” I ask. That seriously doesn’t sound like the Warren I know. Then again, I wouldn’t have expected the Warren I know to dick me down at a frat party either.

“Y/n I obviously don’t hate you. And even if I did, I still wouldn’t have let that guy drug you. I’m not that kind of guy,” he says, sounding a bit offended that I thought that of him. I’m seeing a part of Warren tonight that I had no idea existed. We approach my house, tossing our cigarette butts in the trash can beside the mailbox.

“No, I know, Warren,” I smile downwards, looking away from his stern gaze. “You’re actually a pretty good guy,” I laugh nervously. He grins as he leans against his car that’s parked on the curb right outside my home.

“I’m really glad you said that right now. I’m also glad that since I saved you, we’re even,” he smiles as he walks around to his driver door, reaching into his pocket. I stand on the sidewalk, looking at him confused.

“What Are You-“ he tosses me something, I instinctively catch it, clamping it between my two hands. I raise an eyebrow, almost afraid to see what’s in my hands. Warren chuckles as he gets in his car, starting it up as his radio starts blaring his ‘The Offspring’ CD.

I bend forward, he rolls down the passenger window. I look down into my hands to see my favorite lighter broken. The top of the zippo snapped off from the base. My expression falls, rage flooding my senses.

“Warren!” I scream, more pissed off at him then I’ve ever been. He quickly reminded me of why it is that I hate him so much.

“Yeah, my bad,” he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “You should really keep your stuff picked up off the floor,” he shrugs. I can’t even form a sentence right now. I knew this dumbass took my lighter. “Now get inside so I can leave,” he says motioning with his hand towards the door. I’m so shocked and exhausted- physically and emotionally- from tonight’s events that I just turn and leave. My face still contorted in anger, I silently walk up the steps and into my house.

Out of curiosity, I glance out the window at Warren. He waits a couple seconds after I shut the door to pull out of his parallel parking spot. I sigh, leaning against the door.

This was the strangest night of my life

#evan peters #evan peters smut #ahs cult #ahs hotel #jimmy darling smut #kai anderson #kit walker smut #ahs asylum #ahs fandom #ahs murder house #warren lipka smut #warren lipka #quicksilver smut #peter maximoff smut #peter maximoff #james patrick march #kai anderson smut #tate langdon smut

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

hii :) i love ur fics & i was wondering if you could do childhood friends to lovers with friends to lovers w/ miles morales (e-1610) where they're mutually pining but think that they don't feel the same but literally EVERYONE else sees it. bonus points if there's a confession in the rain or an accidental confession while crying when one of them gets seriously injured. sorry if my ask is either too descriptive or not descriptive enough thank you for your time <33

(Hello! Of course I can, lovely! Enjoy!)

Taglist

Frontline Confessions

Your guys' crushes on each other was practically orchestrated by y'all's parents

They always knew you guys would in some way like one another

You guys were best friends growing up, never leaving each other's sides

You also forced your parents to be friends just so you guys could hang out even more

You guys were always connected by the hip

If one was near the other was following closely behind

Miles and you always shared everything, sometimes you would come home at like 6 and your parents would be like

"Whose sweater is that?"

"Miles!"

And look at each other knowingly

Rio and your mom were mostly excited, as Rio wholeheartedly approved of you as she thought of you like a bonus child

Everyone could tell you two liked one another, it was no secret

But you guys didn't even know you had feelings until you guys got older

Miles would do anything for you

And I mean anything

Constantly sketching you, you and him as a photo on his lockscreen, he was bursting at the seems trying to keep it in he was Spider-man, but you found out

You guys had those little kid marriages under the slides at recess

You and him fended off childhood bullies or one who teased you guys

Only you two needed each other honestly

You guys obviously had other friends but always were each other's number one

The one to walk with you anywhere just to hold your hand

You guys had "platonic" affection but really just acted together

So many people thought you two were dating when they saw you guys

Ganke actually thought you were dating for like 6 months

You guys denied it over and over but couldn't help but wonder if you guys would ever actually date

His mom was constantly teasing him about you

Half of your closet was really his because he knew he wasn't getting them back

You guys were always out with one another, getting food, hanging on top of rooftops, sneaking away from your parents

He sometimes swung you around on his web shooters

You guys would also hang out at Uncle Aaron's apartment

You were there with the good and the bad

And Miles really needed you in the bad

He was always outside knocking on your window, or sneaking inside or just standing in front of your apartment door

You guys had movie marathons or pulled out old photos of you two when younger

"Look at your missing tooth!"

"Well, look at this horrible ponytail! What is this?!"

"You cut off half of it!"

"Oh, right-"

You guys always were seen giggling, holding each other or laughing your heads off

Everyone would look and know

Begging to be put out their misery

Confessions didn't happen for a long, long time, until a certain time you were almost bleeding to death

"Holy- I'm so sorry, (Name)!"

Miles panicked, by your side and spitting out apologies as you bled, holding your newly adorned soon-to-be battle scar.

"Are you okay?" Miles asked, glancing behind himself as Peter fought, Gwen and the rest of your friends desperately trying to keep up without you guys.

"Are you okay to fight?" Miles asked, grimacing at you and even more so at the look you gave him.

"I think I'm dying, Miles!" You yelled, holding your side in the pain as Miles tried to help stop the bleeding.

"Don't die! You can't die!" Miles said once more, trying to convince himself more than your blood piled beneath you.

"Why not? I'm gonna anyway!" You bickered back, much less concerned for your wound than Miles.

"Because I still have something to still tell you!" Miles tried once more, his own small tears in the corners of his eyes at the thought.

He couldn't lose you.

"Tell me then! What's the point of holding it in now?!" You continued on, shaking your head as your hand was almost coated red.

"I can't!"

"Why not?!"

"Because I'm scared you won't like it." Miles revealed, shaking his head as you gave a look of disbelief.

"Who cares! I'm dying." You countered.

"I like you! I've liked you since we were kids! And I don't want you to die because I'm scared!" Miles yelled back, looking down at his hands as they both tried to stop the blood, making it better, somewhat.

Miles then noticed his mistake, not able to take back his words but instead being able to slowly look up at you, grimacing at himself.

You couldn't help but stare at Miles, barely believing your ears, much less now.

Much less with the boy you had liked since you were kids.

"...you like me?"

"...yeah."

Miles stared at you for a moment, like the world went away as he took in your face as you spoke.

And suddenly, Miles laughed.

Miles laughed hard, the tears in his eyes turned to relief as he laughed. As your best friend, and maybe now more, laughed, you couldn't help but join in.

Miles then took a moment, turning it over in his head before he launched forward, bringing you in closer to him.

You and Miles stared at each other, closer than normal, then suddenly, you couldn't help but lean in and kiss him, one you wanted to do for so long.

The kiss wasn't long, but it was waited for, dreamt about and slow and passionate, lips moving together almost like they were meant to be.

Miles pulled away, not away from you but away enough he could laugh, smiling in victory.

"Have you wanted to do that for as long as I have waited to do that?" You laughed at the both of you, and so did Miles as he nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah I have." Miles shook his head, the same smile there as he hugged you, arms around your waist as he almost pulled you into his lap, but stopped.

"Ow, ow, ow!" You cried out, punching his arm, cause even if you liked each other, you were still best friends, and friends hit.

"I'm sorry! Shit! I'm sorry!" Miles cried out, wincing as he looked at the blood on his arm, wiping it away quickly.

"We gotta get you out of here." Miles said, tucking his arm under yours and starting to lift you to your feet, a bit too rough at your circumstances.

"You think I don't know that?!"

"Don't make me leave you here!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagslist:

@mushystrawberries

@sweetheartlizzie07

#across the spider verse x reader #spider man: across the spider verse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse spoilers #into the spiderverse x reader #into the spider verse #miles morales x you #miles morales x y/n #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles x reader

[eddiemunsons80sbaby]

Gobble You Up

Pairing: EddieMunsonxReader

Summary: Visiting your parents for Thanksgiving and you show Eddie your old room. He takes the opportunity for more.

18+ only

 You gave Eddie a reassuring smile as the two of you approached your childhood home. You had been dating for a few months now and he agreed to come home with you for Thanksgiving and meet your parents. You could tell he was nervous, he'd told you parents didn't tend to like him on sight, but you had no doubt he would win your mom and dad over. Your parents were not hard to impress.

Your mom threw open the door, beaming from ear to ear at seeing you back home, standing on her porch. She pulled you into a big hug and then immediately pulled Eddie into one too. He looked a bit surprised, eyes going wide. But then he smiled, his arms coming around the small woman, touched at her affection that she gave so freely. You knew his mom hadn't been around since he was a kid and it was probably a bit shocking to experience a mother's warmth when you'd only just met but that was your mom.

"I am so glad you two could make it!" she exclaimed. "You must be Eddie. We've been dying to meet you. Y/n talks about you non-stop on the phone."

"Oh, hopefully all good things," he said, his neck flushing from the compliment and he pulled at his collar slightly. He was just waiting for the ax to fall, for her to give a reason why he wasn't right for her daughter.

"You should hear her gushing about how wonderful you are," your mom laughed, pinching his cheek gently. "Sorry, just had to prove to myself that you're real. The way she makes it out, you're just about perfect."

Eddie laughed, his cheeks blazing red at the compliment. "I promise you I'm as real as they come. Thank you so much for inviting me."

"Of course! Anyone who makes our daughter so happy is always welcome. Come in!"

The two of you entered your childhood home, the home that hadn't changed since you were a kid. Eddie paused at the pictures of you through the years that lined the buffet in the entryway. He grabbed one of you as a child and held it out, smiling.

"You were adorable," he commented, clutching it to his chest, those lush lips pouting.

You rolled your eyes, "Shut up. That was when my mom cut my hair herself."

"Well, I think you're cute as a button," he said, his finger pressing gently against your nose. "Still are."

The same floral pattern couches sat in the living room that your mom bought when you were ten. And there was your dad's recliner with your dad in it, as usual. He rose up as soon as he caught sight of you two and pulled you close before offering his hand to Eddie.

"Good to meet you, son," he boomed, patting Eddie on the back.

"You too sir," Eddie responded nervously.

"Oh, no need for that," your dad laughed, "just call me Keith. You're practically family now the way our girl talks about you."

Eddie's eyes widened. "Wow. You guys are really welcoming. I have to admit, I was a bit nervous."

"No need to be nervous," your dad assured him. "You make our little girl happy and that's all we care about. You're more than welcome."

Eddie reached over and squeezed your hand, that dimple you loved so much appearing on his cheek. A warmth spread through you at how quickly he was made to feel at home because you knew this was where he belonged forever. It may have only been a few months, but you knew this was it for you. He was your everything.

"Y/n, why don't you show Eddie your room? You guys can relax for a bit after your long drive," your mom offered. "Your dad and I have to run to the store real quick to get a few things for dinner tomorrow and I want to make it there before they close."

"Oh, are you sure you don't want me to run with you mom?" you ask.

"No," your mom laughed, "you guys just got here. It was a long day for you. Just go on up and rest. I am sure you need it. We'll only be gone for about an hour or so."

Your parents headed out and Eddie glanced over at you. You could tell what he was thinking without him even having to say it. His eyes had darkened, a little smirk playing along his lips as he grabbed your hip, pulling you close against him.

"We have a whole hour to ourselves, whatever will we do to fill the time?" he teased.

You could already feel his excitement pressing against your lower belly and it flared white-hot desire in you. You slid your hands along his arms and up his shoulders, looping them behind his neck.

"Well, my mom did say I should show you my childhood room," you replied.

"I would very much like to see where your bed is."

You grabbed his hand, dashing up the stairs and pulling him behind you. Your bedroom was the second one on the left and you threw open the door, intending to shove him on the bed and rip off all his clothes but he stopped in the doorway, his hand tugging against yours.

He was gazing around your room, soaking in every detail. You looked around, trying to see it through his eyes. The blue comforter covered in daisies, the stuffed animals propped on a beanbag chair in the corner, the desk with the typewriter where you did all your homework in high school, the posters that covered your walls. Your mom hadn't changed anything since you'd left. Your train of thought was broken when you heard Eddie chuckling.

"Bon Jovi," he snorted, pointing.

"Shut up!" you snapped, glancing at your life-size poster of Jon that still hung on your wall. "Maybe Bon Jovi isn't metal enough for you but Jon is sexy as fuck."

"Ohh, is he now?" Eddie purred, slowly walking toward you. Grabbing your arm, he spun your body so you were facing the poster, your back pressed against him. His hands slid around to your breasts, massaging them through your top as his lips pressed gentle kisses along your neck. "And is Mr. Bon Jovi hotter than me?"

"No," you breathed, struggling to focus as his hands moved down along your abdomen, brushing the bare skin above your jeans. "No one is hotter than you."

"Good girl," he growled, nipping at the tender flesh on your neck and you cried out. His fingers nimbly undid your jeans, his hand sliding underneath your panties. "Did you used to lay in here and touch yourself while you looked at Jon?" His index finger found your clit, making slow, torturous circles. "Oh, you're so wet already princess. Is that for me or Jon?"

"You..." you struggled to say through the waves of pleasure that were sweeping you under. It was always the same with Eddie. You lost all sense of the world around you when he was touching you.

His finger slid along your folds, gently pushing inside of you and you gasped, bucking your hips against his hand. His other hand gripped your jaw, pulling your head to the side so he could have full access to your neck. A second finger joined the first, the rhythm of his movement picking up speed. A litany of curses and sounds no human should be able to create erupted from you.

"Mmm...is this just how you sounded when you lay in that bed touching yourself?"

"No," you whispered, "because I could never make myself feel as good as you do."

"That's right. No one can make you feel as good as I do," he responded, his fingers sliding out of you.

You whimpered at the sudden loss of him but then he grabbed your jeans, pulling them down your thighs and away from your feet, tossing them across the room. He placed his hands on your shoulders, pushing you until your back hit the wall.

"I know what I want for Thanksgiving dessert," he said, a wicked smile on his face as he dropped to his knees, hiking your thigh over his shoulder. "Mmm...gobble, gobble baby."

It was so ridiculous you wanted to laugh but then his tongue was on you, teasing along your clit, sliding along your folds, dipping into you and back out and you for anything else but the feel of him. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you lost all focus but you had to focus on keeping your one leg steady. It was the only thing keeping you from falling over. Your palms spread wide as they held the wall behind you, desperate for any support you could find.

"Jesus Christ Eddie..." you groaned.

His tongue swirled lazy circles around your clit before flicking at it rapidly. The sudden change in sensation was overwhelming. He continued this torturous pattern as his hands slid along your thighs and then his fingers were back inside of you, relentless in their pulsing.

"Fuck Thanksgiving dinner," he growled, sucking your clit in between his lips. "I just want to feast here all goddamn weekend."

One of your hands left the wall, the other remaining to hold yourself up. You buried your fingers in his hair, grinding yourself against his face, keeping him right where you needed him. He moaned against your pussy and the vibrations sent more waves of pleasure rocketing through you.

"Oh baby, I'm so close..." you moaned.

His tongue swept over your clit quickly, back and forth and then up and down. His fingers curved, rubbing against your walls in the exact perfect place to send you barreling over the edge. You screamed his name, shaking from head to foot, your leg giving out from under you.

Eddie caught you, sliding you into his lap and you sighed, resting your forehead against his shoulder. He pressed kisses along your cheek, nibbling on your ear, moving along your jaw, following a path to your shoulder. You could already feel yourself stirring again just at the feel of his lips along your flesh.

You grabbed his face, smashing your lips against his, gently pulling at his bottom lip with your teeth. He moaned against your mouth, gripping your ass in his hands. You stood up, him following suit, and feverishly worked on his jeans to get them off of him, quickly followed by his shirt.

Pressing your hands against his chest, you gave a sharp shove, sending him backwards onto the bed before crawling slowly over top of him, straddling his hips.

"Goddamn baby," he murmured, his eyes hooded with desire, his hands digging into your hips. "I like when you get feisty."

Smiling, you gripped his cock in your hand, sliding yourself along it but not letting it enter you. He cursed, his head falling back against the pillow, those beautiful mahogany waves splayed out like a mane. You slid the length of him all along your folds before allowing just the tip to slide past your entrance before pulling back.

"Jesus Christ..." he moaned, those fingers on your hips digging in so hard you were sure you'd have marks tomorrow. You didn't mind. Eddie had never truly hurt you, but you liked a little rough play. It gave you pleasure to wake up and see a little mark from his teeth or imprints from his fingers, reminding you that he was completely yours and you were his.

You slid the tip of him around your clit, using his cock for your own pleasure. Gripping him, your ran your hand up and down his length, allowing just the tip of him to enter you again before denying him once more.

"Shit baby, stop teasing me," he pleaded. "I need to be inside you now."

You slowly lowered yourself, taking all of him in. You moaned softly at how he completely filled you. Your hands gripped his shoulders as you began to ride him, propped on your knees as you lifted and lowered yourself on his cock.

"Fuck, you feel like heaven," he groaned, his fingers splayed wide over your hips, gripping them as he moved with you, bringing his own up as you brought yours down.

Your fingernails dug into his flesh and he hissed softly through his teeth. His hands slid from your hips, along your stomach, cupping your breasts. His thumbs began to brush over your nipples and you bit your lip, moving your hips in circles. This motion caused Eddie's cock to hit the most delicious places within you.

"Jesus Christ," you breathed.

Eddie gripped your hips again as he began to thrust up faster and harder. You gasped, gripping his chest for dear life as your body bounced vigorously with his thrusting.

"God, I love watching your tits when you ride me," he growled. "You look like a fucking goddess."

His thumb found your clit, stroking it as he continued to thrust. You arched your back, your hands moving to his thighs, whimpering as you moved closer and closer to the edge of sweet oblivion.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck!" you screamed, gripping his thighs for dear life as you rode out your orgasm, your whole body convulsing.

Eddie hand left your clit and grabbed onto your waist, steadying you as he drove into you even faster. His thrusts were causing you to feel like you might bounce right off of him. He screamed out your name as you felt his release.

"Jesus Christ..." he moaned, grabbing you and pulling you down on top of him. "Fuck, you are amazing."

"Mmm...you're pretty amazing yourself," you murmured, pleasantly numb from your head to your toes.

Eddie's hands grabbed your face, placing a gentle kiss against your lips.

"Well, I know what I'm thankful for," he said with a grin. 

#eddie munson #eddie the banished #stranger things eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x femreader #thanksgiving fic #eddie x reader #eddie the freak munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson imagine