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xhoneygirlxx · 8 months

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Juicy

Eddie Munson x big boob fem!reader

summary: the heat causes you to let the girls hang free and it causes Eddie to be a flustered mess

warnings: she/her pronouns used, reader has breasts and wears feminine clothing. skin color/ethnicity is not mentioned! Eddie being a flustered cutie. idiots in love :) mentions of high school jocks being gross. 18+ MINORS DNI. smut: heavy making out, grinding, titty sucking, premature ejaculation. mentions of titty fucking and cumming on tits. shitty writing and not proofread.

a/n: hello my honey buns!! i wanted to get something out while i work on some of my current wips. i got inspired to write this bc i have a tig bitties and every time i wear a bra i feel like i'm dying and i'm too insecure to not wear one lmao. also, i just wanted to say that all different shapes and sizes of bitties are beautiful!!! also please be kind! smut is not my strong suit.

The late August heat made living in Hawkins unbearable. That might be an over exaggeration since you've never traveled anywhere outside of your town, but it still felt like the underside of satan's ballsack.

You regret agreeing to hangout with Eddie the minute you saw the afternoon weather forecast and regret it even more when you got into the metalhead's van. With no working a/c in the vehicle, there was no choice but to have the window's down to get some sort of circulation.

It wouldn't be so bad if there was a breeze but the air was dry, burning your lungs with every single intake of oxygen. You could feel the sweat rolling down your spine, making the thin cotton tank top you had on stick to your skin.

The cotton shorts you had on didn't quell any heat that you were feeling, only making your thighs stick together uncomfortably. Eddie being the angel he was, had already stopped at the gas station, picking up whatever snack he thought you might want, including a cherry icee that was already melted.

The sweat the beaded at your hairline, falling down your face like raindrops, matched the sweat on your cardboard cup. Syrupy sweetness coated your tongue as you drank it, coolness going down your throat to extinguish the flames within your body.

You needed to get out his car as soon as possible and into some air conditioning. Eddie on the other hand looked as cool as a cucumber. His cut band tshirt blowing through the warm air, black jeans tight on his lower body, and his brown curls in a low bun.

You almost wanted to hate him for being so calm, never showing any discomfort when it got hot like this. God, you hated the way he looked so relaxed, puffing on his cigarette and driving with one wrist on the steering wheel. The sun shining off of his ringed fingers, the band squeezing at his tiny waist, the black ink on his alabaster skin dancing with every move he took- he was so beautiful and it was making your temperature rise even higher.

When he pulled up to his trailer, you were up and out of the van before he could even pull the keys out of ignition. To your dismay, he was taking his sweet time getting out of the car, making you wait in the blaze of the sun. If you didn't know any better, you'd think the cheeky asshole was doing it on purpose. As he rounds the car, a plastic bag dangling from his wrist, a playful smirk paints his lips.

He's definitely doing it on purpose. Asshole.

"Where's the fire, Cherry?" he jests playfully at you, making you scowl even more.

"It's going to be in your hair if you don't hurry the hell up." You yell back at him. A small laugh leaves his pretty lips, shaking his head as he pulls out his key to unlock the door.

"I'll open the door faster if you say please." You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. Playing up the part even more, Eddie takes his time putting the key into the door.

"Oh please Eddie, would you be so kind and unlock the door?" You smile sarcastically up at him. He mimics you, straight white teeth flashing brightly in your eyes.

"Now was that so hard?" Scoffing at him, you push right past his body and enter the trailer.

The small a/c unit the sits in the window works overtime, buzzing and rattling loudly, to cool down the small trailer. It feels like heaven when you walk in, the immediate temperature drop makes goosebumps rise on your skin.

Plopping down on the well loved couch, you sprawl your limbs out trying to cool every inch of your skin. Placing the bag of treats on the table, Eddie makes his way into the kitchen to retrieve a beer from the fridge.

"Is Wayne off today?" The absence of the older man only coming to your attention.

"Yeah, he went to Darla's house." Eddie mutters his response as he works the cap of the beer bottle off.

Darla was Wayne's new girlfriend he had been seeing the past couple months. You had fallen victim to many of Eddie's rants about his uncle coming home late and never calling letting his nephew know he was safe.

Humming a response, you turn your attention to the television that's currently playing reruns of The Golden Girls.

Now that you've been in the cool air for not even five minutes, the creeping heat comes back into your body. The culprit being your chest, heat radiating in the cups of your bra. It was uncomfortable already with the weight on your back and shoulders, not to mention the sweat that collected in the fabric.

Jumping up abruptly from your slouched position, you work your hands around your back preparing to take off the article of clothing. . Before you it off, you remember that you're not in your own home and that it might make Eddie uncomfortable.

As he walks in from the kitchen, sipping on his chilled beer, he catches your stare. Raising a brow and removing the bottle from his mouth, he turns to you.

"You okay over there?" He questions you, eyeing your posture and how you look like you've been caught in the act of something you shouldn't be doing.

"I need to take my bra off but I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Oh boy is he caught of guard, choking on his spit loudly. His cheeks are tinted a deep red, eyes wide and bulging from his face. Of course he didn't care, you guys were friends and he always wanted you comfortable. The only problem was that you would be braless, sitting next to him.

It's not like you haven't before, any time you wore big baggy shirts he knew you didn't have a bra on, but the extra material of your shirt blocked the visuals of your loose breasts.

When you cock an eyebrow at him, he shakes his head, brown curls bouncing with the movement.

"Y-yeah sure. Ya know what we Munson's say, this land is your land, or whatever." He chuckles nervously eyeing you from where he stands across from you.

Letting out a roaring laugh, you reach your hands under the hem of your shirt, undoing the hook.

"I'm pretty sure Woody Guthrie said that, Eds." Forcing out a small laugh, he watches as you pull the straps down your arms and then pulling the material out from under your white tank top.

Yeah he's going to die right here in the middle of his living room. When you finally pull it from your sticky skin and discard it somewhere on the floor, your nipples pebble up from the cold air. You lean your head back and release a sigh of satisfaction.

You don't see how Eddie's drinking you in right now, how he's staring at the way your nipples are visible through the wet cotton of your shirt, or how he can see the fullness of your chest.

It was no secret that you had a bigger bust than most of the girls in town, earning the nickname of Cherry from all the jocks at school, which you took pride in and eventually took ownership of.

Unlike the jocks, Eddie never made any comments about your bust. Not that he didn't think of them when he was beating off in his room every night, but he never commented on them to you which you appreciated. To him you were just you, double d's or not.

While you were in pure bliss, Eddie was living a nightmare come true. The girl he's had a crush on since middle school is braless in his home, right in front of him. He didn't know how he was going to sit next to you now with the way blood was rushing to his cock, the stiff material of his jeans didn't help his discomfort.

"So, what are we watching today?" Cracking your eyes open to look at your best friend, you could still see him standing in the same spot, staring right at your chest.

Oh. OH. He was staring at your chest. You could have so much fun with this, give him a little taste of his own medicine for his little stunt earlier, making you wait longer in the heat.

"Eds?" Your tone was sinfully sweet. Placing your arms on either side of you, you used your forearms to push your boobs together as best as you can.

"Huh? O-oh yeah. Um, we ugh, we could watch Nightmare on Elm Street." He was tripping on his tongue every other word.

Quickly moving from his spot, he knelt down in front of the television to pop in the horror movie. The boy who was so unbothered by record breaking heat, was now a sweaty, heavy breathing mess because of you.

After starting the movie, he slowly retreats to the couch but as far away from you as humanly possible. Maybe it wasn't that he was hot and bothered by you, maybe he was just uncomfortable with your state of dress.

For the first twenty minutes of the film that's all you could think, trying to figure out what you could do to make the situation better. Without thinking, you take a lollipop out of the bag of goodies he bought, popping it right into your mouth.

You took your time, swirling your tongue around the red candy, hallowing your cheeks every so often. You weren't really paying attention to what you were doing, staring straight ahead at the glowing screen. Eddie was paying attention though, growing unimaginably harder than before.

The movement of Eddie taking the pillow from behind his back and placing it right on his crotch, brings your attention the boy next to you. He wasn't as smooth as he thought, the placement of the pillow gave it away right away. His sweat soaked bangs, bouncing leg, and red cheeks definitely gave it away.

Removing the lollipop from your mouth, you place it down on the discarded wrapper laying on the table. Turning to him, your knees criss cross, you say his name softly.

His head turns with speed when you call him, chocolate brown eyes replaced with the darkness of his pupils.

"Are you okay? You don't seem, well you seem bothered. If it's me not wearing a bra, Eddie I can put it back on." You sputter out, worry rising in your stomach at the thought of making him feel awkward with your braless tits.

Releasing a loud sigh, he runs a hand down his face. "Cherry, I'm not bothered by you not wearing a bra. Well, okay, I am but I'm not uncomfortable."

He's staring right at you, almost like he's waiting for you to catch on but you don't. Eyebrows furrowed, you try to understand what he had just said to you. Before you can ask, he reiterates himself.

"Baby, I'm not bothered because you don't have a bra on. I'm very much the opposite and because I'm a gentleman, I'm trying to make myself calm down the best I can. It's just hard to do that when you're deep throating a sucker right next to me." The last part comes out as a joke, dimpled smile to prove it.

So you were right, he was hot and bothered by you. Just like he made you wait for him, you made him wait even longer to rid himself of his discomfort happening in his pants.

"Well Eds, you know if you wanted to see them all you had to say was please." You tease and he groans loudly, throwing his head back.

"Please, Cherry." He begs and you give in, lying back on the old couch. Beckoning him over to you, you spread your legs to give him room. Like a panther, he pounces on you, smacking his lips to yours.

Its heavy and animalistic the way your tongues attack each other. The lingering taste of beer mixes with the cherry from your candy. When you push your hips up to get some friction on your aching heat, he whimpers in your mouth.

He takes your motions as permission to grind into you, the pressure making both of you moan in unison. Pulling away from your mouth so you two can breathe, he moves to his next target.

The warmth of lips meet the chilled skin of your neck, he kisses all around the precious skin to find that sweet spot. When a wanton moan falls from your red stained lips, he thinks he's hit the jackpot. Sucking and kissing the spot under your ear, you're sure there will be a blotch of purple there.

You hiss out when he runs his teeth along the spot, jerking your hips up in excitement. Moving his face so that he's looking at you, you can see the spit that coat his red swollen lips, the lust the pool in his eyes. He's so pretty like this, so fucking pretty and he's all yours in this moment.

"Can I see your pretty tits, Cherry?" He asks so sweetly, like he didn't just sinfully makeout with you. Nodding in approval, he shakes his head at you.

"I need words, princess." He waits for you, who is currently looking up at him like he's hung the stars and moon. You look so fucked out and so disheveled. He's always known he was going to marry you but when he looks at you he has no doubt that he's going to marry you.

"Please, Eds."

That's all he needs to hear before he's pulling the front of your shirt down, revealing your chest to him. He stays there for a minute, looking unbashful at your tits, like they were the eight wonder of the world.

His unwavering gaze starts to make you insecure, worrying that maybe they weren't as nice as he thought they would be. They were heavy and slightly sagged due to the weight, you had stretch marks that decorated the skin like a zebra.

Pulling your arms up to cover yourself, he grips your wrists and pulls them down. Moving his gaze back up to you, his eyes are much softer.

"Don't hide, please don't hide. Not when I've waited so long to see these." A tingling sensation fills your face, making you smile giddily up at him. When you nod at him, he goes in face first into your chest.

"Fuck, I've dreamt of this for so long." You want to respond but you can't when his mouth is placing pecks to the delicate skin of your breast.

Resuming his motions from before, his hips roll right into yours like a wave crashing on the shore. He's everywhere, filling all your senses. Eddie.Eddie.Eddie. That's all that's in your mind, especially when he places your pebbled nipple in his mouth.

"Fuck, Eddie." You hiss out, reaching your hand to the nape of his neck, placing a gentle pressure to keep him there. His switches between swirling his tongue around the numb and sucking on it.

His other hand snakes up to your abandoned breast, groping the fat of it before his fingers pinch the nipple. It's sinful the way it feels, his hard cock hitting right where you need him, the warm of his mouth, and the moans that you release.

Eddie groans, causing your skin to vibrate. Removing himself from your abused breast, he moves to the other one, finally giving it the same attention as the other.

"Fuck, you're so hot." He groans out, eyes closed in ecstasy, high off the scent and taste of you. His movements start getting faster causing him to moan even louder.

Moving away from your chest, he looks down at you, the way your tits bounce with every roll of your hips. He looks at the mark he made on your neck, and how your skin shines with his saliva and your sweat. Your pupils are blown wide, lips puffy and shiny. Then he moves his eyes back to your tits, imagining what it would feel like to run his dick on your sternum, how pretty they would look coated in his pearly white cum, and how hot it would be to titty fuck you.

Every possible scenario plays out in his head when he looks at you and it's too much. With one finally grunt, pulled deep from his stomach, he hangs stops all his motions, collapsing onto of you.

Dazed and slightly confused, you let him catch his breathe. When he brings his face out from the crook of your neck, he has a boyish smile pulled on his cheeks.

"Ed, did you just-"

"Cum in my pants like a teenager? Absofuckinglutely, but if give me about five minutes I'll give you everything you want." You reach your hand up to his face, pushing some of the loose hair that fell from his ponytail, behind his hair.

"If you say please, pretty boy."

He didn't need five minutes, instantly getting hard from the sultry tone of your voice.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x fem!reader

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uglyducklingofthe2000s · 2 months

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Dangerous Conditions - Charles Leclerc

Summary: Charles and all of the drivers have concern for the conditions with the limit of laps for tyres already causing worry. But when Charles spots his girlfriend struggling in parc ferme, his own exhaustion is ignored to help her.

Alfa Romeo driver!reader

No part 2 requests please

If someone had told y/n her car had caught on fire with flames being the reason for her blood boiling her alive then there would've been no doubt from her side about it being completely true. She felt like her skin had melted to through her fireproofs and racing suit.

Her sweat only added to her heat, seeming to boil her skin further.

She would have been sick if she could ever get enough air to heave.

"Ok, that's P8, y/n. Amazing work. Good points. Well done, we're very proud." Her race engineer states as she does the cool down lap but y/n feels like she's almost choking as she tries to lift her visor just enough to let in some air. "How you feeling in there y/n? Sargeant had to retire because he felt unwell. Other drivers were complaining about the heat. Are you ok? You've been quiet."

Y/n gulps a couple breaths before raising her finger to the radio button.

"That's great work everyone. Thanks to the team, the pit stops were amazing. I uh..." Y/n chokes feeling her mouth too dry and sticky.

"Y/n?"

"A little hot. Just need some water, the drink was too hot to drink. It burned my mouth." Y/n states finally pulling into parc ferme and following the directions to park up, actually right next to Charles.

She shuts the car off resting back in the seat while the numbing shock seems to wear off. She thought her pain was bad during the race but now her muscles are relaxing a little. Her body screaming in the heat.

"Y/n? Do you need some help?"

"I'm just...I need a moment. I'm ok." Y/n insists slowly removing her steering wheel and placing it on beside the halo.

Her heart feels like it's jack hammering her chest, beating at her sore lungs as if it's almost bruising them. She attempts to use the halo to get herself out but her muscles set on fire from the strain and she feels blood rush away from her head.

"Y/n?" A voice calls as she feels her head be pulled up and the strap of her helmet be undone. "Y/n? Can you get out the car?"

"No. No. I can't." Y/n breathes as her balaclava follows suit with her helmet and she looks up at her boyfriend. Too dehydrated to even form tears as she looks at him. "It hurts to try and pull myself up."

"Ok, it's ok." Charles assures her looking at the alfa mechanic who places a fan down to point at the young woman before they body manage to reach and position her so they can get her out, only just to try and cool her. "Can I undo you suit?"

Y/n nods actually feeling better for being out the car, but her muscles are still failing her. Her body is soaked and dripping through the suit. Charles is literally peeling it from her as her upper body cools at the feeling of the fan blowing air at her.

She breaths resting her head forward onto Charles, he's burning hot too but she's struggling to keep herself upright without the world spinning.

They manage to get her to the weigh-in but she only just manages to hold herself up long before her trainer catches her and moves over to get her slip of how much she weigh.

"Christ, y/n. You lost 7 kilos."

"I don't feel like I have."

"We need to cool you down quickly. Media is going to have to wait."

Y/n finds herself in an ice bath that she's never been more grateful for. She dunks her head in the water feeling like she might be doing some damage to put her body in such hugely different temperatures.

"Y/n. The media is here!" Her trainer shouts making her reappear.

"I'm ok. I was just too hot." Y/n dismisses while the medic sighs.

"We just want to run some tests. Can you come to the medical centre once you're done here?"

"Yeah, of course."

Y/n was excused from media in the end along with both the Williams drivers but Charles was asked about his girlfriend's well-being.

"We saw y/n struggling a lot to get out the car you and a mechanic helped her and she looked very weak. Have you seen or spoke to her?"

"Not yet. She's in the medical centre right now. But I'll be going to see her soon." Charles states earning a nod and thanks.

He has to get to the debrief which Fred seems to make quick work off since Carlos didn't race and Charles wants to get out of there as soon as possible.

Y/n is still waiting outside, her trainer holding a fan stolen from the garage at her since she's still too hot.

"Finally. She wouldn't let without you even on doctors orders."

Charles looks at his exhausted girlfriend who appears to have showered and made a strong attempt at cleaning up but her body is slumped and visibly in desperate need of sleep.

"Come on, mon amour." Charles smiles pulling her up with both hands which is definitely needed. Usually he'd carry her, but his body also took a draining during that race and he doesn't want to risk dropping her. "I assume we will not be cuddling tonight no?"

"No. Definitely not." Y/n laughs tiredly but she can't really put her whole into it.

Safe to say she'll be sleeping hard tonight.

By the time they get back to the hotel, Charles is aiding her in her walk to the hotel. Her body getting heavier and heavier till she's placed down on the bed where she's asleep before her head hits the pillow.

"Will she be ok?" Charles asks looking at her trainer.

"The doctor said it's heat exposure. Rest is the best thing for her. Maybe keep the air conditioning on through the night, keep her from get. Call me if she seems to take a bad turn. She probably won't but just if she seems really uncomfortable."

Charles nods while Andrea looks at him a silent question of if Charles is alright himself. He seemed ok, hot but not struggling nearly as much as most of the drivers.

It doesn't really take him much time to fall asleep too and while cuddling is off the cards, he does keep his hand latched onto her own.

After they got back to Monaco, some more tests to make sure her organs were all alright, mainly her kidneys and liver were checked.

Y/n is still lethargic and sleeping or dozing through the next few days.

But it's when Charles is on the sim that he finds her seeming to be more like herself as she appears.

"Mon amour, how are you feeling?" Charles smiles while she sits on the floor beside his seat. "Are you ok?"

"A bit hungry. I was thinking of just running to the store."

"I'll come."

"No, I just came to check if you wanted anything."

"I'll come with you." Charles reaffirms earning a small smile.

Charles helps y/n up to her feet before turning everything off and guiding her out of the apartment. She'd changed before coming to get him and seems fairly eager to grab all types of food when they get to the store.

"Next time we're in Qatar. I'm refusing to drive if it's like that again." Y/n sighs with a huff as she throws more food into the cart.

"I'm ok with that." Charles smiles since he hated to seeing y/n so weak after the race and hated seeing her so weak in the days following. "I think you and a few of the drivers might stand up against the race going forward if it's the same dangerous conditions."

"You were ok."

Charles frowns looking at his girlfriend since she almost sounds upset.

"Mon amour?"

"You were ok...but I couldn't handle it."

"A lot of the drivers couldn't cope with the heat-and I felt it too, it's just I managed to come out least of the worst." Charles states then pulling y/n to himself. "You were in hot air behind others for most of the race."

"Still I should've been able to handle it all so much better."

"You know you're not being fair on yourself." Charles sighs then lifting her hand up and kissing it while she manages a small smile at him. "It won't happen again and you finished the race in the points. You should be proud."

Usually y/n might argue, after all F1 drivers will never allow themselves the luxury of praise unless they're on the top of the podium. But for now she's going to enjoy Charles' praising.

Taglist: @namgification @hiireadstuff @jsjcue @geniusalpaca @itsjustkhaos

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hollandsangel · 5 days

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casual | m. sturniolo

i’ve been scheming for weeks !! (actually started this before move over AND voice. so.)

basically i’m obsessed with this song

summary: the most dangerous label is the casual one; or you both want more

warnings: matt x fem!reader, use of y/n, ANGST, cursing, happy ending bc i’m a sucker & a lost cause

wc: 6.5k

the sun is dipping behind the horizon, painting the sky pink and orange. you have your window rolled down, letting the salt air breeze pick your hair up as you rest against the car door. matt has elmer’s new song playing on aux, something lofi with a bit of spanish mixed in.

“like what you see?” he speaks up, taking his eyes off the road for a second to look over at you. he stares for a second, your skin illuminated by the fading rays of the sun, kissing the tops of your cheeks and giving you a warm glow.

you press yourself up to sit properly and catch his hand resting on the center console. you always loved that he drives with his left hand, the right always close enough for you to touch.

“it’s pretty,” you say, poking your head back out of the window, looking overhead at the passing trees, “the palms are so tall.” matt squeezes your hand, and when you look back up he’s already looking at you, smiling when you meet his eyes.. his hair looks lighter in the setting sun, the side of his face lit up all golden and warm. you bite your lip and smile, turning away with a slight flush.

“it’s green,” you tell him and he flicks his head back forward, muttering a curse under his breath.

“my bad,” he admits, refusing to drop your hand.

it looked like he wants to say something, but he doesn’t, just takes a breath and lets it out before turning back to the road.

when the car pulls into the garage you reach to the back to grab your overnight bag. matt’s already out of the car, coming over to your side to open your door, “c’mon,” he says in that silly high pitched voice, just to hear you giggle.

you make your way to his bedroom, knowing the ins and outs of the triplet’s house like the back of your hand. matt follows behind you, his footsteps echoing amongst the hardwood floors.

“i can’t wait to lay down,” you sigh, the effects of the sun's heat catching up with you now that you’re in the cool, air conditioned house.

“yeah, i’m feelin’ pretty tired too,” matt agrees, his voice heavy and suddenly cloaked by fatigue.

you’d been out all day, shopping on melrose, walking by the beach. dinner and ice cream and the beating sun soaked up all your energy. nothing sounded better than getting cozy in matt’s bed and watching a movie, maybe catching a bit of a nap before deciding to head home. you knew he’d insist on driving you, and that always hurt more than you’d like to admit.

the two of you weren’t dating, he wasn’t your boyfriend and you told yourself you didn’t mind. it wasn’t a very convincing lie though, most everyone around you could tell. it’s not that you hadn’t talked about it, you had, there were just things getting in the way.

matt was worried about how his fans would react, and he absolutely did not want it to be at your expense. you hated the thought of pushing him, like forcing him or asking too much, being too needy would only drive him away. all your friends had told you to stop, that you were only going to get yourself hurt, but you’d honestly rather have half of him and a broken heart than none of him at all.

you never doubted that he cares about you, in fact you know he does. he always picks you up from classes, knows your order at all your favourite fast food places and keeps an extra toothbrush in the bathroom for you. it’s things like that that make the title of causal or just seeing each other sting a little bit more.

here though, all settled in matt’s bed, you try not to think about it too hard. there’s some liam neeson movie he insisted on showing you playing on the tv, and you’re happy to be watching it, but mostly happy to be watching it with him. his chest rises and falls under your head with each breath and it’s making you more tired than before.

“i’m so warm,” you say through a yawn, all comfy now in your sweats and matt’s crewneck, although the comfort comes mostly from his arms wrapped around your middle.

“you can throw on a pair of boxers if you want, top drawer,” matt offers, his arms unmoving, keeping you mildly trapped against him.

“let me goooo,” you groan dramatically, making a big show of sliding out from under his arms and grinning to yourself when he laughs.

“come back,” he pouts, reaching for a stuffed animal to take your place while you cross the room to his dresser.

“just give me a sec,” you giggle, rummaging around in the drawer and pulling out a pair of plaid boxers. there’s something stuck to it, all tangled up in the mess of his clothes, “what the– is this my bra? i’ve been looking for this for like a month.”

matt lifts his head just enough to see what you’re holding up, huffing when he hits the pillow again, “i dunno, sweetheart, you probably left it, you’ve got a lot of stuff here,” he sounds tired, and the words are pressed against his pillow now that he’s rolled onto his stomach.

you’ve got lots of stuff here.

it digs into you, how casually he says it, an almost physical ache you feel beyond your ribs, right where your heart is.

quickly you try to shake it off, shucking off your sweatpants and sliding the boxers up your legs so you can hurry back into bed before allowing yourself to think about what he said too much.

“c’mere,” there’s a little smile on his face when he says it, arm outstretched for you to crawl under. immediately matt tucks you up against his body impossibly close, his nose stuffed into your hair and breathing you in. it feels nice, right, and you let yourself bask in it, like maybe the state of your relationship (or lack thereof) won’t be in limbo forever. he has to feel it too, the pull.

“i think you should just stay tonight,” he says quietly against your temple, leaving a little kiss there.

“are you sure?”

he nods, “it’s late, ‘m not gonna kick you out,” you can see his smile in the dark, his features lit up delicately by the dim light of the movie, “and i kinda wanna cuddle,” he admits sheepishly, trying to hide his blush when you turn to him.

“awe, matty,” you tease, scooching closer to him, hardly an inch away.

“hey,” he says all high pitched, making you laugh again.

“that voice always gets me,” you tell him, snuggling up under his chin.

“that’s why i do it,” he tells you.

it doesn’t take long for you to slip into an easy sleep with matt holding you, the mindless noise coming from the tv luring you deeper into unconsciousness. he’s being extra gentle, finger tips dragging along your waist under your top. you hardly feel him slide out of bed or tuck you in all snug under the covers.

nick’s in the kitchen when matt emerges from his bedroom for some water, hunting for something in the pantry. matt rubs his eyes.

“hello?” chris leans forward on the couch, his voice startling matt.

“jesus, what– you’re just both out here at fucking two in the morning?” he grumbles, eyes squinted against the harsh lights.

“we ordered food,” chris stands up, walking into the kitchen.

nick nods, closing the cupboard, glass in hand, “we thought you were at y/n’s or something, i didn’t hear you come in,”

matt grabs a bottle of water from the fridge and a takes a sip before answering, “nah she’s here, she’s asleep,” he says, nodding towards his bedroom.

nick groans, “god, are you guys dating yet,” he asks, head rolling back against his shoulders, exsapertated.

matt’s eyes widen at the sudden outburst of noise, looking back at his door to make sure nick didn’t wake you, “dude, be quiet,” he urges.

you’d felt matt’s absence after a few minutes, the warmth of his body leaving the bed when he did. slowly you sit up, pressing the heel of your palm into your eye and swinging your feet to the floor quietly. you stand behind matt’s closed bedroom door, prepared to silently creep out and go to the bathroom when you catch his voice.

“and no,we’re just casual,” he continues to answer nick’s question, who glances over and chris. “what— don’t look at him like that,” this earns him another sideye, “i mean it, it’s not serious.”

“matthew” nick starts, “isn’t she asleep in your bed right now?” nick points an accusatory finger in his brother’s direction, emphasizing his words.

it’s matt’s turn to look at chris, who holds his hands up in surrender, “don’t look at me, i’m with nick,” he says, looking away from his brother from where he remains on the couch.

“well she’s not my girlfriend, if that’s where this is going,” matt turns back to the fridge, not really looking for anything, just trying to hide from his brother’s judgmental, but justified, stares.

it hurts to hear, even if you know it’s the truth.

“and why not, idiot,” nick asks, getting fed up. he can clearly tell how his brother feels and is getting frustrated, mad even, with the idea of him toying with your feelings.

“i just—i just can’t do it.” that hurts more, a sharp pain you feel in your chest. you swallow dryly, and that hurts too.

you decide you don’t have to go to the bathroom that badly anymore, and slowly sink back into matt’s bed. you know you and matt aren’t together, that he’s not your boyfriend, but a part of you has always clung to the idea that one day he would be, that he’d finally make the move. you thought he liked you enough to at least try.

tugging the duvet up to your chin you roll over onto your side to face the wall. matt comes back into the bedroom and you can hear nick and chris talking quietly for a second before the door closes again. you’re not too sure, but you think one of them mumbles your name amidst the conversation. matt slides back under the covers with you, coming as close as he can to wrap his arms around you.

it makes your head spin, his words rattling around in your mind, saying he “can’t do it,” but here is, body tucked perfectly against yours, holding you so tight you’d think he never wanted to let go.

—

matt seems notice that you’re a bit quieter than usual the next morning, but you try to hide it under the excuse of not feeling well. he offers to drop you off and you take him up on it, knowing that marinating in the misery you feel won’t solve anything but seems to be the easiest thing to do at the moment.

“text me if you need anything, okay?” his tone is concerned and you can feel him looking at you even though you’re trying to avoid eye contact. you know you’d cave, catching a glimpse of the light blue with all that worry clouding it.

“yeah, i will,” you sigh, reaching into the back seat to grab your bag.

matt catches you, palm placed delicately along your jaw so you’ll look at him, “hey,” he says all soft, “c’mere,” he guides you forward slightly and you know what’s coming, you know it’s gonna hurt but you do it anyway.

he kisses you gently and you fall into it with ease, reaching out to touch his arm. when he strokes his thumb along your cheekbone you pull away, licking your lips.

“i’ve gotta go,” you whisper, afraid the full volume of your voice would shatter something, you’re not too sure what.

“yeah, okay,” he nods, pulling his hand away from your face and trying to smile as you open your door, watching you walk into your building.

he stays there in the parked car for a minute, wondering what’s wrong, pretending he doesn’t know that this whole situation hurts you just as much as it hurts him. he’s staring up at your apartment window, tapping the steering wheel and taking a long, deep breath.

“fuck,” he mutters to himself, pushing his hair back and putting the car in reverse.

—

you and matt don’t talk excessively for the next few days, only a few texts exchanged here and there and one phone call after he knew you’d just written a midterm.

he called to ask how it went and tell you he was proud of you, and also to invite you out to dinner with his parents on the upcoming weekend. they were flying out to l.a. for a few days and he wanted you to meet them. it felt cruel.

“i dunno matt, i’ve got an assignment due sunday at midnight, i might not be able to make it,” of course you wanted to go, but the tug of self preservation was starting to become more equal to the pull you felt towards him. you were starting to lose sight of what was more important, him or yourself.

for so long it had been him.

“please, sweetheart, i feel like i haven’t seen you in forever,” matt slumps into his desk chair, spinning back forth.

you cave and somehow your vision clears. it was him again.

“yeah, yeah, okay, i wanna see you too,”

matt smiles on the other end of the phone, “yay,” he says sweetly, making his joy obvious, “i can help you with your assignment if you want, too,” he offers, and you know he’s just trying to get a smile out of you.

you laugh without meaning to, “matt, you know nothing about the course,”

“i’ll figure it out, anything i can do to make sure i see you,”

you bite your lip, trying to keep a smile at bay, “careful, you’re gonna make me think you like me or something,”

“aw, well i can’t have that now can i?” he teases, and it cuts deeper than he realizes it does.

“no,” you mutter, trying to hold onto the smile on your face even though matt can’t see you, “um, i should probably get going, if i wanna finish my assignment on time,”

“oh, yeah, okay. i could come by a little later with some food?” he poses it as a question, sensing your hesitancy.

“you don’t have to do that,”

“i know, but i want to,” he says it so easily, like there’s no reason in the world he wouldn’t come to your house after eleven pm just to sit on your bedroom floor while you do school work.

“canes?” you finally offer.

“be there in half an hour.” you hear the car keys jingle through the phone, the front door latching shut.

—

the triplet’s parents land on friday afternoon. you haven’t seen matt since wednesday night when he called and brought take out to your place, and you’re starting to feel a little nervous at the thought of seeing his parents.

you’ve spoken to them over facetime once or twice when matt had called them, but this is real, this is serious.

you think you’ve completely driven yourself insane with that, thinking of it as serious. for days there’s been a battle in your head about whether or not this means matt wants to make your relationship offical. it’s become such a problem that you’ve forbidden yourself from thinking about it.

taking a deep breath you refocus on yourself in the mirror, fixing your hair and trying to decide on a lip product for the night when your roomate wanders into your bedroom.

“how are you doing?” she asks, leaning against the door frame. you don’t answer, just look up at her with what must be a miserable expression, because she chuckles sadly at you, “that bad, huh?”

you groan and clench your fists, “i’m just confused!” you exclaim.

“i know, but i think tonight should clear some things up,” she tells you hopefully, and you really want to believe her.

“i hope so,” you sigh, “i just really like him,” you whine, defeated.

your phone dings then, a message from matt of course.

matt sturn

be there in twenty

ive got the kids

you laugh sadly at the text.

“‘s that him?” your roommate asks.

“yeah, him and his brothers are on the way, they’ll be here soon.”

“you’ll do great, don’t sweat it,” she tries to reassure you, giving you an over enthusiastic thumbs up before shutting your door again.

matt, nick and chris have been in the car for about five minutes and already matt’s debating driving into oncoming traffic. him and his brothers have had the same fight at least three times since you stayed over last week, and if he’s honest, he’s getting really sick of it.

“enough of this ‘i can’t do that’ bullshit, matt, she’s coming to dinner with our parents,” nick says pointedly, running out of air at the end of his setence, “you don’t just bring your hook up to that shit, so fucking stop talking to her if it’s that much of an issue,” he continues, leaning froward against matt’s seat, staring holes into the side of his brothers face.

matt is clearly aggravated, gripping the wheel a little too hard, “shut the fuck up, nick— she’s not just a hook up,”

nick’s eyes get wider at this and he leans over matt’s seat, voice exponentially louder when he says, “you just proved my fucking point!!”

“you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” matt mumbles in a deft tone, staring harshly out onto the road.

chris leans over from the passenger seat, gesturing in matt’s direction, “and you do? you never shut the fuck up about her, and she’s always at the house but you’re too much of a pussy to do anything,” he yells over matt all in one breath, words coming out too fast.

matt’s mouth is set in a firm line and he’s shaking his head, “you guys don’t get it!” he finally yells back, signaling and switching lanes before he can finish his thought, “i can’t do that to her,” the car’s stopped at a red light now, allowing him to look nick in the eye from the rearview mirror. both him and chris shut up for a second.

“i can’t do that to her,” matt emphasizes again, making his point with his hands, bracketing the last two words, “the internet would chew her up and spit her out. you think i don’t want to make her my girlfriend? do you think i like doing this to her? every fucking day i think about cutting it off because i don’t wanna hurt her, but i’m too fucking selfish to do it.”

“it’s green,” chris mumbles.

“shut the fuck up,” matt says through his teeth as he turns back to face the road, driving through the light.

“so what are you gonna do?” nick asks, softer now, arm hung over the back of matt’s seat.

matt looks up at him in the rearview again, taking a deep, anxiety ridden breath, “i don’t know.”

the three boys are silent for the remainder of the drive to your apartment. matt puts the car in park and mumbles something about being right back before getting out and heading up to your floor, slamming the car door a little bit too hard.

“jesus christ,” chris breathes, feeling the tension finally break.

there’s a knock at the front door, and you take a deep breath before opening it. matt stands with his hair a little bit messy and his cheeks a little bit red, but he softens when he sees you.

“hey,” you say, “let me just grab my bag,”

“wait, y/n,”

“yeah?” you turn back around to look at him. he’s standing in the middle of your kitchen, looking a little bit deflated.

“can i have a hug?”

your heart nearly shatters. is he feeling it too?

“wha– of course baby, of course,” you cross the kitchen over to him and he already has his arms open. immediately he locks his arms around your waist, resting his head against yours. you gently rub his back and rest your cheek on his shoulder.

“is everything okay?” you wonder after a second, feeling him breathe heavily against you.

matt squeezes you a little tighter and kisses your hair, “yeah,” he sighs, “nick and chris are just annoying,”

“you love them though,” you remind him.

he pulls away but keeps you close, hands on your hips now, “sometimes i think about reevaluating that,”

you laugh at him, fixing his messy hair, “no you don’t,”

its his turn to smile, “you’re right,” he leans in for a quick kiss which you grant him, letting it dampen your nerves and reservations on the evening.

“i know, now c’mon, we’ve gotta go,” you slide your hand down into his.

“you don’t have to be nervous, by the way,” matt says to you in the elevator, still holding your hand.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and he squeezes your hand, letting you know he’s there for you, “it just feels serious,” you finally admit what you’ve been thinking for the last few days. you’re a little bit afraid to look over at him, so you keep your gaze towards the closed elevator doors.

matt gives your hand a quick squeeze and glances at the side of your face, you can feel his eyes on you, “it’s not serious, don’t worry,” it’s a little strained when he says it, as if he means something else but you can’t quite decipher it. it’s too much to think about now and yet it’s all you’ve been thinking about for days, how ‘unserious’ it all is to him.

when you do get to dinner, marylou and jimmy are already at the restaurant. marylou is being so sweet to you, asking about classes and how you met the boys, what you like do to in your spare time and things about matt that you tease him over. you feel like a girlfriend, you feel like his girlfriend and you don't think you can take much more of it. she tells you how much he talks about you when he’s home, that even justin has started making fun of him for it.

when you look over at matt he’s blushing but staring directly into his plate, avoiding you.

the smile you plastered onto your face fades and you dig your nails into your plam under the table.

“excuse me, i’m gonna run to the bathroom,” you say to no one in particular, catching nick’s eyes. he seems to notice your pleading gaze, and sends you a text after you’ve left the table

nick stromboli

you okay?

you lock yourself in the single bathroom and stand staring at your phone screen.

you

this is brutal

your mom is being sooo sweet but matt won’t even look at me

i feel like he's embarrassed

nick stromboli

he's actually the biggest idiot that ever lived

chris is lowk giving him a death stare rn

nick was being serious, chris staring at matt as marylou goes on about how nice you are.

nick elbows matt in the side and he looks over, more than slightly fed up.

“i think you should go check on y/n,” he whispers, making matt perk up a bit in worry.

“why?”

“i don’t think she’s feeling good,”

“oh, i hope she’s okay,” marylou interrupts herself.

“i’ll be right back,” matt stands from the table and walks to the bathroom, knocking on the door gently, “y/n/n? it’s me sweetheart,”

a slight panic drops through you as you push away from where you were leaning against the wall, trying to catch your breath.

“c’mon let me in, nick said you weren’t feeling good,” he knows you were nervous about tonight, and he’s hoping that’s all it is, that he can fix it.

you sigh, head tossed back to your shoulders as you breathe out before letting him in, hoping you look more composed than you feel.

“hey, you okay?” he asks gently, closing the door behind him.

“yeah, uh, i think i’m gonna go,” you mumble, looking away.

“what? d–do you want like a gingerale or something?” his brows are pinched and he’s reaching out for you. you step back without thinking about it. you don’t even notice you’d done it until you see the hurt look on his face. he reaches out again, slower this time.

“y/n…”

something in you clicks, or comes crashing down when his fingers brush your wrist, “i’m not your girlfriend matt, stop worrying about me like i am,”

he's a little bit stunned at that and pulls back, saying your name again.

“no, don’t do that, i heard what you said to the guys last week, and you keep telling me we’re causal and we can’t be anything but we’re at dinner with your fucking parents. i can’t keep prenteding to be your girlfriend, or–or that it doesn’t hurt, i just can’t do it anymore,”

there’s tears in your eyes you don’t notice until matt whispers, “don’t cry,”

“i’m going crazy,” you tell him, voice so soft, so fragile that his heart breaks a little bit.

“no you’re not, c’mon– we can work this out,” the words are so comforting, and normally he’s the one you’d run to for comfort, but he’s hurting you.

“are we gonna make it official, matt? or are we just gonna keep sleepingover at eachother’s houses four days a week and tell all our friend we aren’t dating?” you ask, pressing your fingertips underneath your eyes, “are we gonna do this for real or are you gonna keep telling your parents about me when you’re in boston, and–and keep coming to my house after midnight with take out just because i don’t wanna be alone working on assignments,” he doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with a solemn look, so you keep going.

“i can’t take the sorry fucking look chris keeps giving me when i’m walking out of your room, it hurts, matt,”

he steps forward finally, trying to make up for more than the physical space that separates you, “no, c’mon, just–just come back to the table. i’ll stay at yours tonight and we’ll talk about this,”

you hold back a scoff at the irony of him mentioning he’ll stay over, “i need an answer now.” you tell him. he’s gone back to standing a few feet away from you, not touching you anymore.

“an answer for what?”

“can you commit to this now? to me?” you feel like you’re pleading with him and you hate how desperate it is.

“we aren’t having this conversation in the bathroom right now, can we please just talk about it later?” matt asks.

you shake your head, “matt, we’ve been doing this for four months, i don’t wanna wait any longer, i’m not a toy.”

he stares at you, licking his lips. you stare back, suffocating in his silence. it’s all the answer you need.

“i’m gonna go,” you mutter, “tell your parents it was really nice to meet them, and that i’m sorry for leaving,” you add, looking away when you walk passed him to open the door.

you leave the restaurant and call an uber, hardly sparing a glance in the direction of his family’s table on your way out.

“is y/n okay?” jimmy asks when matt comes back alone.

matt shoves a hand into his hair to push it back, not meeting anybody’s eyes, “she went home, she wasn’t feeling good”

“and you didn’t offer to take her?” marylou scolds, sure she raised her son better than that.

“she didn’t want me to,” matt admits, defeated.

nick and chris share a look, knowing that isn’t the whole truth, or really the truth at all.

—

a few days later, after their parents had gone back to boston, matt’s shuffling into nick’s bedroom, where him and chris are laying on the bed on their phones.

matt looks a mess, hair wild and eyes sunken in. he’s been in his bedroom all day, blinds drawn and door latched shut

nick thinks he’s wearing a hoodie of yours, the faded smell of your perfume lingering when his brother walks in.

“…you okay?” nick asks, glancing up from his phone.

matt shakes his head and sits on the edge of the bed, rubbing his eyes with his fists, “i feel like fucking shit,” he admits, still looking down, “i hate that i hurt her,” he tells the two, as if his brothers weren’t already acutely aware, “i was trying so hard to keep from hurting her and i fucking did it anyway,” they wait for matt to finish, knowing he has a little more to say, “i was so fucking scared of making things offical that i lost her all together, she’s never gonna talk to me again,”

nick sighs and looks over at chris, the two of them sharing a sympathetic look before he moves forward and puts his arm around matt, who slumps against his shoulder, “that's not true,” nick says, “she probably should never talk to you again, but she’s a good person, and she’s our friend,”

“yeah, and she cares about you a lot, matt.” chris adds, sitting on the matt’s other side.

matt groans and covers his face, “i know, and that’s what sucks,” he wipes his palms over his face, “god, why was i so fucking stupid?”

“because you really like her,” chris offers, “and you’re gonna try and make it up to her…right?”

matt sits back up, staring at the wall, “i dunno, i want to, i don’t…” he takes a deep breath, willing the pit in his stomach to go away, “i’m more afraid of losing her all together than i was of any of that other shit, but i don’t know how to fix…this,” he says, dejected.

nick perks up, because he’s never seen matt half as lively as he is when he’s with you, or talking about you. he’s pretty sure matt was on his way to falling in love with you (if he hasn’t already) and refuses to let him lose hope,“i have an idea,” he says.

matt looks at his brother, desperate. the circles under his eyes a shade too dark, his cheeks sunken in, his lips chapped. nick continues.

“we’ll need waffles.”

—

it’s been over a week and a half since you walked out of the restaurant, and since you’d spoken to matt. nick’s been messaging you, asking if you’re okay and telling you he’s there for you. there’s been a bit of him telling you how stupid matt is, which you’d agreed with solemnly.

nick’s messaging you now. you’re posted up at your kitchen table trying to review for one of your exams, but more so warding off another wave of tears, pressing your fingertips into your eyes.

you pick up your phone to answer the message nick had sent, something about a sleepover at your place this weekend and a promise of a hannah montana binge, but there’s a knock at your door. you’re confused at first, wondering who’s at your door this late.

“did you order food?” you ask your roommate as you get up, looking in through the crack of her barely opened door. her headphones are on and she's hunched over a textbook with a highlighter, oblivious to any visitors.

your heartbeat speeds up a little bit as you begin to think about who’s on the other side. with a huff you look through the peephole, met with a slightly distorted image of matt anxiously shifting his weight from foot to foot.

he keeps looking down the hallway and biting the inside of his cheek. he’s holding something. a paper bag in one hand and a bouquet of delicately wrapped flowers in the other.

you turn the lock, hand shaking a little bit as the door swings open. he whips his head from where he was looking down the hall to the now open door, your eyes locking immediately.

“matt,” you whisper, not even meaning to say it.

he stares at you for a second, seemingly forgetting any words he would have said for a second before holding up the bag.

“i brought waffles.”

—

“please let me in,” he says breathlessly, as if he was holding his breath waiting for you to open the door. “i know i probably don’t deserve a chance, and you probably don’t wanna hear me out, but…but please,” he licks his lips, grip tightening on the stems of the flowers, (you didn’t think he was listening when you told him your favourites all those months ago) “i miss you,” it’s quiet, the way he says it. he’s pleading with you.

there’s an ache in your chest, you’re trying not to mistake his tenderness for pity. and yet you still find yourself letting him in.

“okay,” it takes so little convincing. you missed him too.

there’s little talking at first, mostly just you and matt grabbing plates down and dishing yourselves out. he went to your favourite diner, because of course he did. the waffles are still warm and are making your kitchen smells like butter and sausage. you move your books and laptop out of the way to make room for the two of you to sit, elbows touching when you start to eat.

you’re half way through your first waffle when matt speaks up. you could feel him staring, his body half turned towards you in his chair. some of your hair falls into your face and his finger twitches before you tuck it away. all he wants to do it touch you. hold you, kiss you, anything. he’s such a jerk.

“i’m sorry,”

you freeze for a second, still facing away from him. after you finish chewing you set your fork down and turn slowly, finally looking him in the eyes. the blue has grown a shade too dark, melancholic.

“for what?” you ask stupidly, just needing to know how he’s felt about it all.

“fuck, everything?” he says, forcefully pushing his hair away from his eyes.

you shake your head and turn back to your plate.

“y/n,” he sighs, “c’mon look at me,”

you do, but it hurts.

“i’m sorry for what happened at the restaurant, and i’m sorry things got so out of hand and–and that…this went on for so long,” he gestures between the two of you, fixing his wild hair again.

“this?” you ask, voice breaking, thinking the worst, that he regrets it all, that it’s over. it’s really over.

“this stupid fucking dance we’ve been doing for four months, it’s crazy. it was always crazy.”

you huff, probably a little bit too dramatically as you shift to face him fully, “matt, what are you saying?”

“i’m saying that i like you! and it was so stupid to fucking…dilute that becuase i was scared or some shit,” the latter end of his sentence loses volume, he’s getting shy again.

“but–but you just wanted to be casual–” you start, looking down at your crossed legs.

“no, i never wanted to be fucking casual, i was just…. fuck i was just scared.” he says around a mouthful of waffle. the air smells like syrup.

“i wanna be with you all the time, i like you so much– i just– at first i didn’t want things to be weird between us, which is why i thought a relationship was the wrong idea, but then we started…doing relationship things and it only got better.” he starts, messing with his hair and pushing his food around his plate, “after i stopped being so afraid of that i just, i got scared of another thing,” he finally looks up at you, eyes a little sad, a little heavy.

you can tell that he knows how he’s made you feel, and despite that you hate that he’s sad. you never want him to be sad.

matt continues, “i’d hate for you to get hurt because of my fans, and i knew it was gonna be hard to keep things private, to keep things…ours. i thought that was something i didn't wanna do or i wasn't ready for but…” he sighs, cutting himself off and taking in another big breath. you want to reach out and rub his back, knowing he’s anxious and just trying to calm himself down.

“you being mad at me i can deal with,” he starts again, “you being mad, or–or upset because of me, is harder to handle, but fuck, not having you at all? that's worse than anything else we’d have to face,” he looks up, dead into your eyes to make sure you understand the weight of what he’s about to say, “together.”

“matt…” you whisper. you’ve forgotten about the food. it’s getting cold but it doesn’t matter.

he shakes his head before meeting your eyes again, “i’d rather go through all that bullshit with you than go through nothing without you,” he sounds so sincere that you think your heart skips a beat.

“what are you—”

“i wanna do this. for real.” he nods once, watching you closely.

“do you mean that?” he hates how doubtful you sound and he hates that he’s the one to have put all that doubt there. he thinks you might cry.

“y–yeah of course i mean it. i should have said it a long time ago, and if it makes you feel any better nick’s been giving me shit for like, two months, and i think chris wanted to beat me up last week.” he offers you half a smile, hoping you’ll give one back.

instead you breathe out laugh. he basks in it.

“i want you to be my girlfriend,” you’re looking down again and your hair falls from it’s place behind your ear. he doesn’t stop himself this time, nimble, ring adorned finger pushing it back, “i wanna be your boyfriend,”

you look up at him, studying his face for a second before you speak. he looks tired and a little worn, like he’s been thinking too much and too hard and worrying even more.

“yeah?” you finally say.

matt smiles at you. he has such a pretty smile.

“yeah.” he nods, smiling now.

“so we’re not just casual?”

matt scoffs out a laugh and stands. you stand too and he wraps his arms around you, tucking his chin atop your head when your arms go over his shoulders. he kisses your hair and breathes you in, the lingering scent of your shampoo and your perfume and you. it’s all over his clothes and his sheets, but nothing beats having you in his arms again.

“we were never just causal,” he assures you, as if you didn’t know.

tags ! @st4rswrld @urfavvev3lyn @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears @its-jennarose @strnilolo @cherrypostsposts

also tagging some of my faves (writers & other creators!!) 🥹 @pettydollie @wcters @grimholic @floristmatt (if you don’t wanna be tagged lmk!!)

#matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fic #matt sturniolo blurb #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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probably-writing-x · 8 months

Text

Hotter and Hotter

Summary: hi 👋🏼 I don’t know if you take any request now but I will still ask.. Can you write about the scene of the grocery when Conrad just lean on and take a sip (he was soo f hot ) and make it like more flirty and it can go like you want between Conrad x yn? thanks u ❣️

Warnings: Sexual references (Minors DNI)

Author’s Note: I’m not taking requests atm but this came through and I was inspired so maybe I am taking requests, we’ll never know xoxo

“This is the hottest it’s ever been I swear to God,” Conrad grumbles from the couch, hand resting on his chest.

“Well you try and fix the air con then, because it’s doing fucking nothing when we try,” Steven shrugs his shoulders, his head resting back against the seats of the couch from where he sat on the floor.

“You’re an engineer Steven, isn’t this like your job?” Belly points out, dragging her hair away from her face.

The air conditioning in the house had been out all morning and the temperature had been slowly rising with the sun. Now, it was stifling hot inside the house and just as bad outside too. And, clearly, the group were at their wit’s end.

“Okay, can we please stop talking about it? Like, can we talk about anything else?” You roll your eyes, your back against the couch where Conrad was laying, your head mere inches from his.

The two of you had been friends for years, ever since Belly and Steven had started coming to the summer house, you had too. The group of you were always inseparable whenever you were all in Cousins. But, before this summer, you and Conrad had realised your feelings for each other. He’d started calling you every night, texting you more and more often, and eventually the two of you spoke to each other more than anyone else. You’d both agreed, however, that is was not worth the drama for the rest of the group to know that anything was going on. You’d kept things completely private and, so far, it worked.

You’d turned up to the summer house this year terrified to see him again, and when you had done, it was like there was a weird tension that you’d never known before. There were sparks whenever he looked at you, electricity coursing through you whenever you briefly touched. You hadn’t even kissed the boy and yet all you could think about was doing so. It was driving you insane.

“Well, what else do you want to talk about, (y/l/n)?” He turns his head so that it is facing you but you keep your gaze averted away, worried he’ll make you blush.

“Anything,” You groan, “Like, seriously, it’s making it worse if all we talk about is how hot we are.”

He smirks, “You think you’re hot, (y/n)?”

You whip your head around to face him and roll your eyes, “Grow up, Con.”

His smirk remains, eyes trailing over your face as the conversation grows behind you. Jere and Belly were agreeing on getting into the pool and Steven was refusing to join them under the premise that he couldn’t find any swimming shorts in his suitcase.

“How about we head to the store?” Conrad suggests, pushing himself up to sit on the couch, “We can get some cold drinks, some ice cream, anything remotely cold.”

The group all sound into chorus of agreement and you nod too.

“Yeah, just get anything they’ve got,” You encourage, watching as he swings his legs over the side of the couch so that he’s sat next to you now, his knee bumping your shoulder.

“Oh, you’re coming with me,” He nudges you, “I need someone to help me push the cart.”

Conrad stretches out a hand to you and waits for you to take it.

“Right because that’s definitely a two person job,” You roll your eyes, taking the grip of his hand and pushing yourself up from the floor.

“Oh, absolutely it is,” Conrad shrugs his shoulders, walking out of the lounge towards the front door, grabbing his car keys on the way.

———

You sit in the passenger seat and he sets his hand behind your chair as he reverses, the air con in his car blasting enough for you to both cool down.

“Why didn’t we think of coming in your car earlier?” You question, glancing out of the window at the changing street beside you.

Conrad turns his head in your direction, “Because then they’d all want to come.”

You nod in agreement and fall silent, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“So, has anyone said anything about…”

“What? Me and you?” You finish the sentence for him, “Why? Do you think they know?”

Conrad smirks a little, “Jere told me that sometimes you talk in your sleep and he can hear you through his wall.”

You frown just slightly, cogs turning in the expectation of what he was about to say.

“Apparently he heard you call my name,” Conrad fully grins then, turning the car into another corner as he approaches the store.

You feel your face heat up more than the sun was capable of, your heart sinking a little, “I did… I mean he heard… what?”

Conrad chuckles gently and his hand moves from the wheel to squeeze your leg, “Oh come on, (y/l/n), I already knew you were obsessed with me.”

You clench your jaw and look away from him, the embarrassment seeping through you. He squeezes your bare leg again and keeps his hand there as he pulls into a space in the parking lot.

“Okay I’ll get a cart and I’ll meet you at the checkout,” You nod, taking a deep breath to relatively compose yourself as you get out of the car.

Conrad follows behind you, fighting back the smile on his face. He walks up behind you as you go to get a cart, his arms dropping to either side of your hands on the handle, thumbs brushing your pinky fingers.

“See, Ive just got so many questions,” He mumbles the words into your ear as his chin drops to your shoulder.

You feel a tingle go over your spine and quickly step out from underneath his arm, “And I won’t be answering them.”

Conrad persists, of course, pushing the cart into the store and following your every move.

You both take a silent sigh of relief at the feeling of the air con in the store, walking a little slower as if to revel in it for as long as possible.

“Okay, so what was this dream about?” Conrad asks, stopping the cart as you throw in a few items from the produce section.

You make brief eye contact with him in the coldest glare you can muster, “Con, I said we’re not talking about this.”

“I mean, it must’ve been pretty good for you to be calling my name,” He points out nonchalantly, throwing a few bags into the cart, “So, tell me what it was about?”

You spin on your heel and grip the end of the cart, squeezing down on the plastic as you look at him, “Conrad, I don’t remember, okay? Now can we please drop this because you’re being an asshole.”

He raises his hands as if in a gesture of surrender before placing them back on the cart and following you still in your slow steps around the aisles.

Conrad didn’t need to know to boost his ego, or to use it against you. He needed to know because the thought of you thinking of him like that made him feel like a kid with his first crush. He was infatuated, and his curiosity was getting the better of him.

Things were awkward between the two of you now, and neither was willing to break the tension with any form of conversation.

You were embarrassed, of course you were. The chemistry between the pair of you had been sky high since you’d arrived back in Cousins - all of the awaited feelings of seeing each other again had come bubbling to the surface. And yet neither of you could do anything about it. So there it stayed - bubbling wildly on a surface that would not release. Of course you were thinking about him, how could you not be?

“Okay, you get the ice and pay for this, I’ll meet you at the car,” You nod, holding your shoulders a little more sure of themselves.

“Oh, so I’m paying?” Conrad raises his brows, stopping in his tracks with a bag of ice in his hands.

“Your daddy’s credit card will,” You taunt in response, disappearing around the corner of another aisle to leave him to his own devices.

Minutes later, Conrad appears through the sliding doors of the store, the fully loaded cart bumping in the parking lot in front of him. You’re stood by the car, waiting for him, two large drink cups in your hands.

“And what’s this?” He nods his head a little towards the drinks, eyes returning back to yours.

“A peace offering,” You shrug your shoulders, “I’m sorry I got annoyed about you asking about… I just, I was embarrassed and I didn’t want you to think I was some weird stalker that was obsessed with you or something.”

Conrad laughs gently, the kind of laugh that always manages to ease your worry. He steps out from around the cart so that he’s mere inches from you.

“You know,” He lowers his torso down to take a slow sip from the drink, darkened eyes staring up at you as he does, “If you wanted to be screaming my name in the night, you should’ve just asked.”

Your mouth falls agape slightly as all words seem to escape you.

“Come on, I’ll load this up before the ice cream starts melting,” He clears his throat, as if nothing had happened, “Get in the car.”

You oblige and sit in the passenger seat waiting for him as he piles the bags into the trunk, climbing into the driver’s seat shortly after.

He reaches over to take his cup from your hand and his fingers brush yours - still electric as you repeat over the words he’d just said.

“So, home?”

You hum in agreement and keep your eyes focused on the road ahead of you as he reverses out of the spot, unable to hide the smile tearing at your face.

———

“We’re back!” Conrad calls out as the two of you head inside, arms full of brown paper bags.

“Thank god!” Jere exclaims, grabbing a couple of the bags from you to alleviate the weight, “Successful trip?”

You and Conrad exchange a quiet glance before looking back and both saying at the same time, “Yeah.”

Jeremiah frowns at you and his brother, “You two are weird.”

He helps to unpack the shopping before turning back to both of you.

“Hey, Con, did you ask (y/n) about her dre-“

“Grow up Jere,” Conrad snaps quickly, throwing the last bag of ice into the freezer.

You look at him and smile a little to yourself, averting your eyes back to the drink in your hand.

Jeremiah rolls his eyes at his brother and disappears out of the kitchen, leaving just the two of you once more.

“Here, they’ve not melted yet,” Conrad pulls an ice pop from one of the boxes and unwraps it, handing it to you.

You set down your drink and take hold of the wooden stick. Now was your chance to get him back. You make sure you’re stood as close as you can get to him, your eyes gazing upwards to focus on his. And you stick out your tongue, drawing it from the bottom to the top of the cold ice, not once breaking eye contact with Conrad as you pop the top in between your lips and suck gently before pulling away.

You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows the lump in his throat, and find yourself hiding back a grin at your obvious effect on him.

“What’s wrong Connie?” You ask him through batted eyelashes, “You look all… flustered.”

It’s almost as if you see the second that the cogs turn in his brain as his hands stretch out to grip your waist, both tightening to lift you up and onto the kitchen counter behind you.

And then, without a second thought, his hand grips your face and he pulls you in to kiss him. It’s rushed at first and overly fueled by passion but you don’t care. He can taste the sweetness on your lips and it only seems to encourage him more, kissing you like he’d been waiting to do so for years. His hand tightens once more on your waist, pulling you into him as closely as he can as your hands grip onto his shoulders.

Conrad pulls away then, only breaking contact at your lips to catch his breath as his forehead rests against yours.

“Don’t tease me,” He grumbles quietly, his lips plump in the absence of you.

You chuckle a little, nudging his head a little more, “From what just happened there, maybe I should be teasing you more often.”

Conrad smirks and pulls away, standing up straight as both of his hands settle on either side of you on the counter. He glances behind you at where the large glass doors lead out to the garden, “You know, nobody’s actually in the house.”

You turn over your shoulder to catch a glimpse, “Yeah, looks like it’s just us.”

He takes the opportunity as you’re turned away to kiss at the exposed skin of your neck, his touch hotter than any weather was capable of.

You let out a quiet moan and grip the back of his head. Damn, he was good at this.

“Connie-“ You hum, pushing into him as closely as you can.

He smirks against you and pulls away, eyes widening slightly at the mark left on your skin from his lips.

“We should probably join the rest,” You comment, dragging your fingers through his hair.

He flutters his eyes closed at the contact and sighs, “Five more minutes.”

Conrad leans in to kiss you again but stops as he hears;

“Conrad! Can you bring the ice pops out?” It’s Stephen yelling to the pair of you.

You look at Conrad and laugh a little, hopping down from the countertop, “Come on, before they suspect anything.”

“I think that mark on your neck will make them suspect enough.”

You bend down to take the ice pop box from the freezer and reach one hand behind your head to untie your hair, letting it fall around your shoulders.

“There we go, it’s like it never happened,” You wiggle your eyebrows and saunter outside towards the garden.

Conrad watches as you go, a smile on his face before his eyes drop to the barely-touched ice pop you’d both discarded onto the counter.

Thank god for hot weather.

#conrad #conrad fisher #tsitp #conrad x reader #conrad x you #conrad x y/n #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x y/n #tsitp conrad #tsitp imagine #tsitp one shot #tsitp drabble #tsitp blurb #tsitp request

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bunicate · 5 months

Note

mimi i wud die for sum wrio incest ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ i need nii-nii to punish his lil sis when she starts actin up and disobeying ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა

i kept u waiting long enough and Im not sure but I may have strayed a witl bit from whut u said but still ! ! wrio-nii <3 muhehe . some icky thoughts and babbling below nonnie.

⋆ 𐙚 ₊˚ pairing ꒱ྀི wriothesley x fem reader — warnings ꒱ incest ! ! big brother x litl sis + fucking in leggings + minor daddy kink + creampie + size kink [ reader is described as small ] / 18+

believe it or not, i don’t think wriothesley necessarily enjoys punishing his little sister ! but that doesn’t mean he’s opposed to it, especially if you’ve been seeking a less-than-innocent reaction out of him.

it crushes him to say it, but wriothesley knows that his chilling title as duke at the fortress of meropide doesn’t grant him the same freedoms as others. he’s an overseer, a self-appointed role that he carved himself. part of it is to maintain order; the other half is maybe to fulfill his own sentence and snuff out any remnants of the guilt he couldn’t shake off.

naturally, he’s a protector whose hands happen to be bloodied. if it meant guaranteeing the safety of his little sister, he’d fight his way through anything, even if it meant bruised skin and broken bones. to be at the fortress while you remained in the world above was, to say the least, hard, but he’s working around that obstacle.

its some days, like today ( though rare on occasion ) he takes a well-deserved break.

a long shower, a couple of hours in the at home gym to stay dedicated, and then he promises afterwards that he’s all yours. maybe a picnic, a stroll through the town, a shopping trip—whatever you set your sights on, he’d do it; he’d get it because he has the patience of a saint, but that just happened to be the one thing you lacked.

your attempts at seducing him were messily orchestrated. adorable, and innocent, and his cock strained against his sweatpants nonetheless.

wriothesley’s bare chest expands with each deep breath he takes, greedily sucking up the air to calm his lungs and beating heart after he drops his weight.

though away from the world below, he doesn’t stray from his regimen. even when darling little girls strut in loungewear not even appropriate enough to wear in their own homes, offer him water.

he downs it—gulps it incredibly fast and wipes the remnants of water that escape on the back of his hand. he sets the glass down, and he knows that water isn’t the only thing his body is aching for.

the clothes are practically second skin, your nipples are puffy and alert under your shirt from the air conditioning, and the leggings are tight enough to emphasize the chub of your lower lips.

“why are you lookin’ at me like that?”

it’s a silly question he doesn’t bother to answer.one foot behind the other, hands intertwined, you give him that a stare that reveals more than you let on. your tongue delicately swipes your bottom lip, and his eyes follow. he watches closely when your lips do that small bounce from the release of your teeth.

he wants to wipe that doe-eyed look off your face and rip the flimsy pants off. maybe even ruffle up your pretty pigtails, but you’d hate him if he did. yet, it’s only fair for him to tease in return, and wriothesley isn’t too keen on enforcing discipline. but if you want it so bad, he can’t see why he can’t be voracious just this once.

it takes him only a split second to wrangle your body to the floor and push your cheek into the plush mat. he’s pumped with adrenaline; his brute strength nearly knocks the wind out of you.

those fingers that you love so dearly trail down your hips and backside to finally press down on the seat of your leggings—right where your cunt sucked in the fabric. just two of his digits encompass the size of your heat, and they trace the sticky folds through the cloth. your grip on the mat tightens, bracing yourself for the inevitable.

he roughly rips open your leggings, the sudden exposure to air making you gasp. it’s a wide enough hole to display your plump ass and fat little pussy to his icy blues. such thick, succulent lips dressed in a thin layer of your slick that he wanted to lap up selfishly.

his large hand reels back and collides with the flesh of your butt watching it jiggle.

“hnn— !”

your body lurches forward on impact, and wriothesley flexes his thick arms to keep you still.

“shh,shh s’okay.”

he rubs the fat of your butt briefly before landing another swift strike.

you squeal, “nii-nii! p-pleaseee !”

the arch in your back deepens, and wriothesley licks his lips in anticipation at your show of embarrassment.

“oh, princess. this is what you wanted, isn’t that right?”

he’s dizzy from the sight of your gaping cunt, and he can’t tell whether to spank it, fuck it, or kiss it first.

ultimately, he decides on spitting.

he puckers his lips, and a tiny glob lands right in the center of your pussy, and he eagerly stares as it disappears between your plump folds.

you flinch away reactively from the moist invasion, scrambling on the floor, but your brother overpowers you.

“come on, don’t run from me now, you little brat.” his hold on you tightens, forcing your ass higher up.

wriothesley begins to tug his pants down and pull out his heavy cock. it’s thick and drooling pre-cum from his wide tip, eager to empty his load inside your tiny hole. he gives it a few strokes and watches you wiggle your butt in excitement.

“put it in nii-nii. i'm so messy down there, so you don’t need’ta prep me. . .”

a manicured nail runs down your slit and separates your fold, and nothing but arousal webs across your twitchy cunt.

“fuck .”

you are messy.

you’re dripping and creaming, and he’s barely started. he takes his own thumbs to spread your lips apart further, like he couldn’t believe it himself. your vagina thumps erratically, pumping out a bubbly, clear fluid. the squelch is disgustingly loud, and he has to fight himself from collecting the salty drops with his tongue.

he whistles in agreement.

“would you look at that? i guess you’re right. this needy cunt can take my fat cock. ”

he's holding his breath when he presses it against your quivering center.

“i always thought you were too little to take it, but your pretty pussy is more than ready for me.”

he rubs the softness of your skin in awe.

you turn your neck slightly to give him a shy smile. “mhm, s’ only for you. . but,” you shake your hips again. “could you put it in, please?”

slick was now stuck between your thighs, staining your already ruined leggings, and you felt dirty, but not enough to overpower the desire to be fucked by your older brother. you were practically humping the air in utter want, but wriothesley doesn’t match your urgency.

“i’m trying, sweetie, but—” the duke makes no effort—he wipes his sloppy mushroom head on your clit, dragging it in messy circles.

“nii-nii is having trouble, doll.”

his pre-cum frothed into a cloud coating your already wet lips, and he hisses when your pussy briefly twitches around his glans. he nudges your opening teasingly but doesn’t bother to push his way through the tight seam.

he shakes his head in faux remorse.

“see, i guess you’re still too little after all."

you throw a small fit, “that’s not true! i can take it!”

he chuckles at your pouting. the hold on your ass digs into your skin as a warning to not get so worked up.

"then what do you suppose we do?”

he spits again, but this time on his shaft, and he drags his hand up just enough for his foreskin to cup the crown of the flushed tip.

"jus’ ruin it—force your cock in. .”

and he didn’t need to be told again.

two beautiful holes, a tight little knot that he can’t wait to split apart one day, and a wet and fat pussy. was he even strong enough to tough it out a little longer?

he looks up towards the ceiling, muttering a brief prayer. you just might kill him, but he's more than ready.

the tight fist around his member squeezes until a thick drop of white plops against the floor. his balls firm and round flutter with every gasp of air you take. his body is in sync with yours, and as soon as his tip pushes against your opening, it stretches—coaxing in his meaty girth. he pushes all the way in until he's sure he can’t go any deeper, and then pulls back out. his cock shines with your wetness, and he takes a few seconds to marvel at where your groins meet.

without warning his hips to mount forward, and he fucks you with purpose—to teach a lesson.

his pace is far from what you predicted; it's much faster and filled with a vigor you weren’t used to. your big brother prefers to handle you with much more care, knowing that you're just a delicate little thing, but he trusts you’ll get used to it.

you proved time and time again to be adaptable, so you keep your ankles crossed and your face down, smushed into the floor, while he uses your body for his own end. his balls, warm and taut, spank your clit unabashedly, turning the screw inside of you. a ring of milk forms at the base of his cock, and the friction pulls noises out of you you didn’t think you were capable of making.

you move to crawl away and put some distance, but wriothesley doesn't let you.

“nah, be still; let nii-nii use you. that’s what little girls are supposed to do, right?”

he laughs, maybe even out of disbelief. each time he tries to convince himself that it will be the last, he still finds himself forcing his cock inside his cock-hungry little sister. and your moans only elevate in pitch as you get closer to that edge.

“yesssss. ah !—hn—you can use me as many times as you want. m'your little stress toy!”

wriothesley grunts loudly. the sound of your lustful proclamations rattling his very being.

“I'm your little girl. keep fuckin’ me, please, nii-nii.”

he doesn’t want to stop.

the recoil of your round ass from the impact of his thrust is a view too otherworldly for him to separate his eyes from. his body accumulates more sweat, and he continues to deliver those fucks that pushes you harder into the floor. your leggings, other than the gaping rip, were thoroughly obliterated, and the mixture of fluids made the fabric darker and stickier.

“! m’almost there, keep going nii-nii. . . s-so close !”

a foggy cloud slows the whirrs in his brain; all of his thinking ceases, and the only thing he can focus on is finishing inside you. to empty his large balls of his salty seed and pull out more of those choked sobs out.

“s’okay baby. relax . i got you.”

“hnn-! hiccup . mmkay ! i love you s’much."

“yeah, nii-nii loves you too, baby. don’t fucking forget it.”

"i won't, d-daddy.”

he stills only for a moment before continuing.

“daddy ? what are you talking about, silly girl?”

he snickers in between moans and claps of skin. did he fuck you that dumb already?

“I’m your brother princess, don’t tell me you forgot.”

you pulse around his cock.

“mhm, but you’re my daddy too.”

he rolls his eyes and smiles.

“i guess i have a pretty daughter to take care of now,” he says and he’s rewarded with your cute mewls and noises of happiness.

he’d kill for you.

again.

he’s a man free of guilt when he’s the closest to you, and it’s why he feels no shame when he delivers one last thrust and pumps your pussy full of his hot semen.

you welcome it, feeling it fill your belly and it takes few minutes for wriothesley to separate himself from you. the minute he pulls out is when he feels robbed of your warmth, he feels naked but satisfied. his cock layered with thick cum fell limp between his legs and he feels relief that his balls were no longer aching with cum ; it was instead leaking from your puffed cunny.

his hands reached out to touch your sensitive pussy, squeezing it to watch the dollops of his seed drip on the gym mat. your legs shake in desire and it’s when reality sinks in.

you didn’t finish and wriothesley makes no move to get you off. he smirks, he’s sure that this time his punishment will keep you in line.

although, only for a bit .

#tw:incest #૮꒰ ๑´ତ `๑ ꒱ྀིა #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley x reader smut #wriothesley smut #wriothesley x you #wrio smut #wrio x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #female reader

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mazeinthemiroh · 7 months

Text

[9:23pm] chan grinned at your lying body that was currently splayed out on the floor.

visiting australia with your ever so handsome boyfriend had it's perks, but damn, you weren't used to the heat.

consistent, heavy and unmerciful, barely cooling even at night time.

he couldn't help but laugh as you groaned dramatically into the carpet beneath you.

"i think i'm melting," you breathed out, a cheek pressed against the carpet as you splayed out like a starfish. he chuckled uncontrollably and made his way over to you.

"it's not that bad," he teased, angling a fan in your direction which only really blew hot air in your face.

"not bad enough to resist my cuddles?" he said, and before you had time to react, he spooned you from behind and attacked your neck with kisses.

"stoppp! you're sweatyyy" you groaned and tried to wriggle out of his strong grasp but he wasn't having it, giggling like a child in your ear as he snuggled closer to you.

and finally you gave up, relaxing in his grasp, exasperated.

"you're lucky i love you enough to stand this heat," you grumbled and pouted, crossing your arms, "and your cuddles at the same time."

he had a massive smile resting on his face. the air of the fan whisked over your bodies in a peaceful sort of way.

"i appreciate you. you know that right?" he mumbled in your ear, kissing your temple. "for being here, for supporting me, for loving me."

"yeah i know," you leaned a bit closer to his body, despite being sweaty yourself. you didn't feel that it mattered anymore.

"i will love you in sickness and in health," you said dramatically, "in summer and in winter! in heat and in snow!"

"well it's good to know no matter what season, we'll be cuddling like this. no conditions can tear us apart," he said assertively, and you rolled your eyes, a part of you feeling as though you were being cuddled against your will. but the other half, the stronger half, made no effort to move away.

"whatever you say, baby."

you melted into his touch.

skz taglist: @hearts4sungie, @alyszaen, @a-wandering-stay, @anyamaris, @acciocriativity, @minnysproutgriffinteddy, @junebug032 (let me know if you want to be added or removed)

#abi's timestamps .・゜#bangchan #chan #bang chan #skz #kpop #stray kids #bangchan x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader

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blissfullyecho · 1 year

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how to begin your rebranding journey (self-rebrand tips)

1. start following accounts (like mine🫶) that helps you with your rebrand. whoever you want to become, how you want to live, use social media as a way to constantly be reminded to upgrade yourself. subscribe to youtubers who live how you want to live and those who will help you with what you need help with. you use social media everyday so you might as well use it for a purpose rather than endless scrolling. change it up, it’s okay

2. this kind of goes hand-in-hand with number 1, but change your mental environment. you are the content that you consume. you are the music you listen to, you are the tv shows you watch, you are the social media you follow— all this media is being recorded in your mind. your subconscious mind perceives it as real. think about it: people who listen to sad music are generally always pretty sad. people who watch crime documentaries are usually scared and on high alert 24/7. it’s okay to enjoy your favorite music, tv shows, movies, books, etc., but be careful of how much of it you’re consuming. change it up, it’s okay

3. change your physical environment. redecorate, move, clean, organize, go outside more, do everything you need to do to change your physical environment. this can be as simple as letting in fresh air and sunlight rather than keeping the blinds closed and being in the horrible fake yellow light and air conditioning (unless it’s extreme heat or cold outside.. obviously). maybe try eating out at that restaurant instead of having it delivered. always look to change your environment and surroundings. change it up, it’s okay

4. i suggest doing the steve harvey 300 things list. if you don’t know what it is, you write down 300 things you want for yourself and for your life. read it every morning and every night. pray over it. meditate over it. and work on some of those things. it’s not enough to just read and pray, you have to do the work. feel free to look it up on youtube

5. start working on your goals today. do something. anything. maybe you can only handle one goal at a time. that’s okay. maybe you can work on multiple goals at once, that’s okay too. it’s not a race. do something right after reading this, it’s okay

helpful things to remember:

it's not going to happen overnight, relax

you must enjoy the process and not try to focus so much on just the end result

you're going to have good days and bad days. again, relax

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harrysonlylover · 7 months

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Heat*

Summary: Your fiancée plans a trip to Italy after you get uncomfortable from the Summer heat.

Trope: CEO! H

WC:7.2k

Warnings: Jealousy, Possessiveness, mentions of pregnancy and ovulation, soft domrry.

A/n: so seepy besties don’t mind the mistakes.

CEO H Masterlist

Long hot summers are not for you.

Even though you’re unemployed, going out is still a must for you whether it be for hanging out with friends, running errands, or visiting Harry at his office.

Now that the heat is intensifying, you can’t bear making plans or even thinking about stepping out of the house. The high temperature makes sweat build and the humidity ruins your hair and overall mood, Summer was never your favorite season but now that you’re pregnant, you despise it.

Whining about it was unintentional, frankly, everyone was annoyed by the heat. At first, Harry panicked and begged you to stay indoors. His biggest fear was something happening to you when he wasn’t near, let alone now when you’re pregnant.

You did comply and stayed home for most of the days, but there is only so little you can do when you’re alone. You tried Pilates and Yoga for pregnant women with different instructors on YouTube, cooked new recipes that help with pregnancy, and changed the decoration in the living room twice. You even read some of the books Harry bought.

You’re one month into pregnancy and so far, you’ve only experienced morning sickness, fatigue at night, and frequent urination. The whole vomiting ordeal drains the life out of you, not only is it disgusting but it occurs every day.

Harry was over the clouds ever since he found out about the baby, he wanted to arrange a huge party for the celebration but you were against it and insisted on privacy for the first few months.

All it takes is for you to demand something and he would do it with a sealed mouth. He has been acting quite giddy and clingy, and much more obsessed with your body now that you’re pregnant.

He insisted that you gained some sort of glow even though you look dead after you vomit. The whole sickness part is what made him pouty and apologetic. For the first few days, he teared up and refused to go to his office, there wasn’t much you could say because you were feeling quite shitty.

Then it became less frequent but it didn’t stop him from feeling bad, he kept saying ‘Sorry’ over and over again because he knocked you up and caused all this fuss. He wouldn’t listen even when you assured him that it was just a part of the pregnancy.

Flower bouquets decorated the apartment every single day. He is aware that you have a spacious backyard with a garden that houses different types of plants but no. Every morning he sent out a flower delivery and a handwritten card by him, not the florist.

‘Morning my dove, hope you have an amazing day. Thought I’d give the orchids a try today. Eat well and rest for the little peanut. I love you endlessly. XOXO.’

That was one example out of many. He might as well invest in a flower shop.

As for the unbearable heat, even the poor flowers didn’t handle it. It reached up to 35 degrees every day and you couldn’t move from the couch even though the entire penthouse was air-conditioned.

You weren’t mentioning the temperature on purpose but Harry always listened intently even if your conversations meant nothing. He simply hummed and warned you to not go outside as he was already running errands for you.

It wasn’t until two days later when you woke up to the sound of bags zipping that you noticed what he had done.

“Sweetheart I made you breakfast, please eat it so we can get going to Italy.”

That was all he had to say as you glanced at the set of bags he packed, one of them being unfamiliar. At least five bags were waiting to be picked up by Harry’s chauffeur.

You didn’t have the heart to question anything because you knew that he did it for your comfort, even though he could easily say that it was business for the new branch in Italy.

You enjoyed the omelette with veggies that he prepared as you observed him walking around in shorts and a ‘Daddy’ shirt. Yes, a fucking ‘Daddy’ shirt.

He was making phone calls in Italian, you understood very little but you could tell that he was asking for his yacht and something about his villa.

Maybe it’s the pregnancy or simply your love for him but the way he was handling these things for you and casually strolling in such clothes with his biceps flexing every time he switched the phone from one ear to another with his other hand in his pocket….

Some drool fell on the omelette but it was nothing compared to the wetness between your thighs. He’s already looking like a dilf and you’re only one month pregnant.

“Baby I’ll clean the plates so you can take a shower before we leave. I packed all of your stuff.” He pressed a long kiss to your cheek and caressed your tummy before ushering you to your shared bedroom.

In your head you replied with ‘Yes Daddy’ and he was just taking care of you, nothing sexual!

It’s going to be a torturous vacation.

The flight to Italy was smooth and comfortable, not that he would allow anything less. He used one of his private jets and demanded to land at the nearest airport to his villa so you could avoid getting road sickness.

Whenever work got crowded and pressuring, Harry escaped to Tuscany. He was eager to introduce you to his villa in his haven. The first time he invited you he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, not that he doesn’t usually stare,but Italy is precious and so were you.

You napped on the way to the villa, resting your head on Harry’s chest as he wrapped his arm around your body, not forgetting to leave kisses on your face.

Once you arrived, he thanked his chauffeur and tipped him using a checkbook before asking you to rest and hydrate as he unpacked the suitcases. Of course, you knew better than to offer your help.

Harry’s villa was surrounded by vineyards and acres of land, he decorated it with paintings picked from all around the globe and furniture that was designed by a local Italian artist.

In the center of the living room, he has a wall dedicated to pictures of you together, from trips to random candid shots around the house. Your lip quivered as you thought of the pictures that will soon join the collection but with a new member.

You followed Harry to the bedroom and leaned against the wall watching him unpack your suitcase even though you’re capable of doing it. You approached him slowly and pressed your body to his back, allowing your lips to linger over his shoulder blade.

“I felt that something was different but it was just my baby love.” He discarded the items in his hands and turned around to wrap your body around his.

“Do you want me to help—“

“No. You know how I feel about this. Leave it to me.” His voice was stoic and straightforward, the same one he used around the office.

“What is this suitcase anyway, I haven’t seen it before.” You pointed to the unfamiliar suitcase that you first saw at the penthouse.

“It’s yours.” He stepped aside to reveal a wide range of summer clothes still in their tag, along with different types of bikinis, all being luxury brands.

“Harry! What is this?” You searched through the full suitcase, gasping at the price on the tags. It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been with your fiancée because you still haven’t come around to how much he spends on clothes. Let alone on you.

“Thought you’d want to try on new stuff while we’re here and we’re going swimming…” Harry loved to spoil you no matter what the item was. Though he never told you, he gets some sort of thrill or ego boost whenever he sees you wearing clothes that he picked out himself and paid for. Call him him weird, obsessive, or even crazy but his head becomes filled with unholy things when you wear what he chose. As for the bikinis…. With your small bump or at least the knowledge of knocking you up.

May the lord have mercy on him.

There was nothing for you to say except a ‘thank you’, followed by a ‘no need’ from him and a forehead kiss. As you glanced around the room, you noticed that he arranged everything in its place leaving nothing for you to unpack.

“Sweetheart you should start getting ready we’re spending the day on our yacht.” He shouted from the bathroom where he was making sure that all your skincare and toiletries were present.

Harry always referred to things as yours and his, even though everything was paid for with his money, not yours. The sentiment of it made you feel warm.

You glanced at all the pieces Harry bought till your eyes landed on a skimpy bikini that would barely cover your breasts or pussy…

You smiled to yourself as you placed it aside and grabbed a towel to shower. The teasing game between you and Harry was never-ending. You acted like cave people around each other when one of you was half-naked or just looking yummy.

If you were still trying to conceive, you and Harry probably wouldn’t have left the villa not that he isn’t all over you now, because boy he is.

If he wants to wear a ‘Daddy’ shirt then he might as well preach it.

It wasn’t long before you found yourself relaxing on the yacht, as you went through your beach bag to fetch the essentials. A beige dress with a simple cut near the breast area hugged your body as you hid the revealing bikini underneath it.

“Babes, is the SPF with you?” You lifted your eyes upward only to be met with your shirtless fiancée, his arms raised on the doorway and body leaning forward. The shorts were barely hiding anything, his hips were on display and if he tugged the fabric slightly, everyone would be graced with the sight of his cock.

He had an amused smile on as he lazily chewed gum and taunted you with knowing eyes from behind his Gucci sunnies. Handsome motherfucker. You might as well ovulate again right there and then even if you’re already pregnant.

You offered him a nod and tossed the cream in his direction, but why not give him a show too?

You took off your dress in front of him and everyone who was nearby.

The bralette was strapless and tight on your breasts prompting your cleavage to appear plumper, as for the bikini bottom it was a thong.

You kept a casual attitude around him as you folded your dress aside and unpacked the beach bag while sparing him glances to delight in the sight of his clenched fists and tense body.

He was a soft dominant in bed, he disliked all that ‘punishment’ stuff. Pleasure to him is something sacred, if you want to get spanked then ask for it, and if you want soft lovemaking then you should ask for it too.

You weren’t the only ones around, after all this was an area known for welcoming the wealthy so it wasn’t a surprise when you noticed the few other yachts positioned near you.

“Put it on me.” Harry handed you the sunscreen as he stood in front of you giving you a stern look. Whenever he used this facial expression with you, you knew that he was feeling it.

You squirted a small amount of the creamy SPF before lathering it all over his chest and abs, your hands were completely covered as you glided them over his skin.

His body towered over you and you could feel his gaze on you even though he had sunglasses on. He was enjoying your hands all over his hard abs especially when you slowed down your pace to take in the sight in front of you.

Would it be so bad to drop on your knees in public?

“The way you’re rubbing shows me that you’re desperate sweetie.” You avoided responding verbally and instead raised your face to taunt him with a wicked smile as your hands tortuously massaged his skin before reaching his hips and giving extra attention to the fern tattoo. With each glide, his shorts got looser and looser, his happy trail was on display, and when you glanced down you got a peek at his cock by toying with the waistband.

“Should I go for the biceps too?” You put on an innocent act, which he didn’t mind at all. He nodded at your request and turned around to give you a better angle.

“You should sit down, I can’t reach you.” He was taller than you by some good inches and that didn’t stop you from reaching him, but of course, you wanted to play your little game which he complied with.

He took a seat on the sunbathing lounge chair, with his legs spread dangerously. Instead of beginning to apply the cream on his biceps, you abruptly seated yourself on his thigh, not forgetting to let out a subtle moan at the friction or pretend to fix your position by going back and forth on his thigh.

Again, he did not seem fazed by your actions. Not because he’s unimpressed but because he adored it when you were all over him, and it showed when he wrapped his entire arm around your body, giving you easier access to his biceps but also making sure to knead your ass with his palms.

You had to use both hands to rub one bicep and still, it took longer than expected. The more he kneaded your ass, the more his bicep flexed making you drool over his body and push yourself more against him for friction.

“I thought I told you to put protection not ride my thigh.” His voice was delicious, yet so near to your ear which didn’t help your current situation.

“I’m not! Just getting comfy…” You lied to his face and continued to rub the sunscreen on his muscles. His face was inches away from yours trying to intimidate you in a good way. You always get flustered when stared at for too long, and Harry knows how to play his game.

“I can feel the moist and warmness on my thigh.” Your hands stopped gliding at his words, you knew better than to lie, he had you memorized like the back of his palm.

He slowly guided your cream-covered hand to his chest area and moved it along his skin back and forth, his alibi was seeking sun protection but his real motive was to get you riled up.

“You could lie to anyone except the person who made you pregnant.”

Playing dumb was your method. You delighted in touching his skin and toned muscles before asking him to do the same to you. You settled on your stomach, enjoying his calloused fingers running all over your back and shoulders. And of course, you offered him moans.

“You’re in for it sweetheart.” He warned as he headed off inside not even attempting to hide his visible hard on.

Too bad he left before you took off your bikini…

An hour later, you left your initial spot and sailed ahead basking in the cool wind and warm summer sun that didn’t have you begging for winter. Harry brought you refreshing drinks, water bottles, and plates of fruits.

He had switched his attitude and turned into a sweetheart, It wasn’t on purpose, but it’s how he is. He turned on the autopilot and excitedly propped himself near you. He opened a water bottle and handed it to you, asking you to have some sips despite doing that earlier as well.

Then he gave you some cherries and peeled an apple with deep focus, feeding it to you with his hand, before rubbing on your stomach and inquiring if little peanut is causing a fuss.

He rested his head on your tummy, as his lips lingered there for a while offering love to you and peanut with his fingers dancing along your hips and thighs. You swiped your hands through his hair, giving him head scratches making him a satisfied fiancée.

A straw hat covered your face from the sun, and the sound of the waves muffled Harry’s voice. He spoke to your tummy but none of the words reached your ear, but it’s fine since he seemed to have a little private moment with Peanut.

As much as he wanted to bask in this blessing, his job was to check on you. He lifted himself up barely fifteen minutes later and reapplied sunscreen to your arms, insisted on pouring water over your head because the sun was out and about, and fed you an apricot.

Most of the time his gestures are nonsexual but oh well he’s a gentleman, your gentleman, and everything he did turned you on. After leaving you alone earlier, you ogled him as his hands steered the wheel and sailed the yacht. Obviously, his biceps contracted which did not help at all since you recalled rubbing lotion on them. He even placed the pilot hat on his head.

His curls fell all over his face, and his back muscles flexed with every steer of the wheel. The weather was amazing yet the heat followed you here in the form of your fiancée.

There was nothing you could do except spread your legs, as you observed him doing regular things that got you frothing at the mouth.

And now his extensive care and dotting made it much worse. You know that other men do not act the way he does nor take care of their pregnant women this way, you’ve seen some bad examples.

“Are your muscles knotted? Do you want to get up?” His voice pulled you out of your dirty thoughts, showing his concerned face.

“All good.” You smiled at him and pulled his face in for a kiss.

Another yacht approached yours blasting loud music interrupting your little bubble. It was the same yacht that was next to you before sailing, many young adults were on board probably enjoying their euro summer.

Harry got up to take a look scoffing at how loud the music was, they were dancing in bikinis and shorts, distributing drinks, and singing along with the song.

“Scusatemi, potreste abbassare il volume della musica per favore?” He shouted to the group of girls whose yacht was in close proximity.

“Si Bello!” One of the girls replied before sending a flying kiss his way making the others erupt in giggles.

That was your cue to get up. You don’t have much knowledge on the language but you don’t need translation to know that she’s flirting with your fiancée, who was fucking smiling.

You walked toward him placing your arms around his body and waved to the group of girls as if your blood wasn’t boiling. Their faces dropped upon seeing you as they sent a fake smile your way.

“H, let’s continue sunbathing.” As soon as he heard you whispering, he knew you were off. You only used this tone with him when you were mad or up to something devilish. It wasn’t a suggestion as well.

“Of course babe.” He guided you to the huge lounge chair but instead of helping you to lie down, it was the other way around. He didn’t object nor open his mouth and from the look of mischief on your face, he won’t be questioning anything.

You straddled his lap positioning your pussy right over his crotch and inched your face closer, catching his lips in a kiss. You rested your hand on the side of his neck, deepening the kiss as you moved back and forth on his clothed cock.

“Wha—what’s gotten into you?” He panted in between kisses, with his hand wrapped around your ass.

“Am I not allowed to kiss my fiancée?” You didn’t part your lips from his and spoke in a muffled voice.

Ah, so you were feeling possessive.

“Anytime you want babe, you own me.” He played along by kneading your ass and pushing his tongue further into your mouth. Your jaw grew sore from how feverish the kiss was but Harry became relentless.

Your body leaned backward from the intensity of his kiss, and his hands roamed your body, gripping your skin tightly before moving on to another area. He moaned into your mouth and pressed his hard on to your pussy.

You knew that they were watching and that was exactly what you wanted. You didn’t care if you appeared petty or crazy. He was yours.

“You’re such a needy slut.” He had to pull you away by wrapping his hand around your throat. Your lips were swollen and the look of mischief was still painted across your face.

“Look who’s talking, weren’t you flirting around with those girls?” You tilted your head to the side, relishing the way his facial expression changed.

“Watch the words that come out of your mouth dove.” His grip against your throat tightened and the warning in his eyes was serious.

“Or what? You’ll leave and party with them?” His stern look revealed his clear irritation that he could no longer hide.

“You’re getting too mouthy. Up.” He snaked a hand to the back of your thighs, lifting you both in the process.

Again, he isn’t a man who delights in “punishment”. If he wants to be a tease or rough then so be it, he doesn’t have to call it a punishment. The one thing that he would never do is embarrass you in a situation where he is aware of your feelings, and right now you’re jealous.

He didn’t dismiss that, he’ll prove you wrong inside but for now, he has his lips attached to the nape of your neck, while his hand wanders between your hips and bum. Of course, the girls who fancied him were looking as he was all over you.

Once you were in the clear and away from prying eyes, in the safety of the bedroom inside the yacht, Harry switched his demeanor.

He guided you to the bed where you sat at the edge admiring your annoyed fiancée who gave you a promise to destroy you with his eyes.

He stood in front of you, his crotch so close to your face as he raised your chin upward. A curl had fallen on his forehead but it didn’t help in erasing his irritation.

The smell of the summer breeze and salt penetrated the room but was not enough to dismiss his cologne. He swiped his finger over your bottom lip, as your eyes ogled him starting from his pumped chest down to his chiseled abs and toned V line, right where your eye level was.

“I’m going to ask you questions and you will answer in full sentences.” His voice, low and raspy indicated that he was not up for silly games.

“Yes Sir.” You shamelessly tried to take his finger inside your mouth but he didn’t allow it. Instead, you kept gazing at his hips where the shorts were loose.

“Who’s your fiancée?” You felt his engagement ring digging into your neck as he wrapped his hand there.

“You Sir.” You answered without hesitation hoping to get away with squirming your thighs.

“Who owns you?” His pupils darkened and his voice got deeper.

“You sir.”

It stayed this way for a few other questions…

“Who worships you?”

“Who got you pregnant?”

“Who loves you endlessly?”

All of them were followed by a weak ‘You Sir’ as you rubbed your thighs together feeling aroused more than usual just from his veined hand over your throat (and the questions).

“Then why are you being a brat?” He questioned with his face inches away from yours, noses bumping together while you looked into each other’s eyes. His were dark and hungry, yours were bright and needy.

You shrugged your shoulders, avoiding a verbal response, pretending to be clueless about your attitude. Honestly you just couldn’t help it, your blood boiled when you saw how they eyed him.

“Maybe some cock will refresh your mind?” He tugged down on his shorts revealing his thick girth, red at the tip and already leaking precum.

He always knew what game to play, where to touch, what to say and how to make you surrender to him. The fact is that as much as he was obsessed with your pussy and body, you were equally infatuated with his cock.

There was no such thing before Harry, but when it came down to him everything changed, including your perspectives on dicks.

“Poor baby, is that what you want? Craving some cock to make your brain mushy?” He cooed in a mocking tone as he tapped the tip on your bottom lip, not giving you a chance to take it inside your mouth.

You stuck your tongue out at him to show him that you need it, but he definitely had other plans in his mind. His pre cum leaked on your lips and dribbled down your chin, your tongue instinctively tried to lick his cum but he knew you’d try and do that. Instead, he beat you to it and picked them up with his finger observing the subtle pout in your lips when he took them away.

“Hmm so good.” He brought his finger to his mouth and licked it clean to tease you with outrageous moans.

“Please, let me suck on it.” Your eyes darted to his veiny hand that was wrapped around his thick swollen length that is asking to be sucked.

“You do need it… maybe it’ll fix that brain of yours.” He caressed your cheek with his knuckles as one last gentle moment before coming closer, and forcing your mouth open to push his cock in.

His eyes rolled back almost immediately at the warmth of your mouth, you didn’t complain nor protest, you got to work right away as you went down on your knees with your hands going up and down on his thigh, then to the base of his cock where you cupped his balls.

Your warm mouth was heaven to him. For some reason, sinful thoughts began to flood his mind uncontrollably as he imagined you going down on your knees a few months from now as he looks down to get a view of your ruined sight, with his cock in your mouth and your big bump protruding.

“Fuck’s sake! I gave you my seed yet you still get down on your knees like a little slut for my cum.” He groaned audibly, rocking his hips back and forth enjoying the feeling of your tongue licking his cock from the base to the tip.

Whenever you gave Harry a blowjob, you had to use both of your hands. That’s how big he was. One had would be wrapped around the base while the other stroked the shaft and eased it into your mouth where your cheeks would hollow around it, as you swirl your tongue and push his length as far as you can.

The sound of your gagging was music to his ears, let alone the mischief in your eyes as you looked up to him while removing his cock from your mouth to allow the mix of saliva and pre cum to dribble down your chin, before you take him in again and moan as you squirm your thighs and shift.

“Such a good warm hole.” He patted your hair as if you were his pet while he rocked his hips faster in your mouth and smirked at the way his abs flexed.

You were absolutely insatiable when it came to his cock. You already sense the soreness in your jaw but you couldn’t care less. Your head kept bobbing on his cock back and forth, you wanted to drain the cum from him and from the look on his face, it is no secret that euphoria is hitting him.

“Fuck my mouth harder Mr. Styles.” You let out his cock from your mouth with a pop, only to reveal your scratchy voice due to his cock hitting the back of your throat. You smiled back at him with your face covered in cum and saliva, as if you were daring him.

“You won’t be speaking for days.” His hand roughly grabbed a fistful of your hair before thrusting his cock harshly inside your mouth, he maintained a vigorous pace of thrusts as the sound of intense gagging filled the room.

His hips snapped roughly as he treated your mouth like a vagina. Thrust after the other with no remorse, feeling his entire body light up from the heat of your mouth and the skill of your tongue.

Your nails dug into his thighs leaving crescent marks on his skin. Tears were streaming down your cheeks due to his roughness, the sting from his grasp on your hair intensified the feeling of pain and pleasure.

“Oh fuck!” He threw his head back as your nose bumped his happy trail. Everything felt overwhelming. Your tongue didn’t stop for one second, the veins along his girth were caressed by it, let alone his sensitive tip that leaked drop of cum that you happily choked on.

He murmured words of praise followed by a warning of his close release, his grip on your hair got loose as all the blood in his body rushed to his cock.

You broke a new record for holding your breath but it was definitely worth it, the furrow of his eyebrows, parted lips and Adam’s apple that protruded from throwing his head back and swallowing down his throat.

His cock twitched followed by the most lustful moan as he released his load, it flooded your mouth seeing as you had him fully tucked inside. You choked on the large amount of cum and pulled him out to properly swallow what he gave you. Harry was observing your movements making him release even more. Your entire face was covered with cum, some drool and saliva dripped down from your chin landing on your thighs. The cum you attempted to swallow leaked from the corners of your mouth as your hand gripped Harry’s cock tightly, aiming to milk it completely as you stuck your tongue out to not waste any drop.

“That’s it baby…drink it all up.” His sensitive tip oozed more cum into your open mouth, twitching in your hand when you squeeze at the base.

You kept swallowing his seed for what felt like ages, he released a huge load and you got dizzy from thinking about how he gave you such loads almost everyday. No wonder you get pregnant.

“Good girl, swallowing it down your tummy?” You couldn’t reply nor hum, sure you could nod but you were far too gone. After all you’re both equally obsessed with each other.

Your mouth stayed open for a while as Harry swiped his thumb over the corner of your mouth, before bringing it inside for you to suck on.

“Can’t waste any drop baby.” He caressed your cheek lovingly while you attempted to lick your lips and any area that you forgot about. Harry’s low deep voice did things to your body, let alone the sight of his toned body that you were graced with.

There’s just something about your fiancée’s body.

A few moments later, Harry lowered himself to your level pressing a kiss to your temple as he snaked a hand to the back of your thighs to lift you up on the bed with one arm.

He placed you on your back gently before moving his lips all over your tummy down to your legs where kisses your scratched knees from going down on him.

“My pretty girl bruising her pretty legs for cum.” He murmured, rubbing his thumb on your ankle.

If he had kept moaning while you sucked him and ogled his muscled body, or even pumped more of his seed into your mouth, you probably would’ve came right there and then without him touching you.

The way his eyes closed as he bit his bottom lip and clenched his fist making veins protrude in his arm, just to hold back a scandalous moan will always be engraved in your mind.

But of course he did not hold back the moans. He’s too much of a slut to do that.

Your breathing was ragged as his hands explored your lower body, you were already too aroused and Harry just won’t get to the point. Your bikini bottom is definitely wetter than it would be if you had gotten into the water.

“What’s that baby?” He cooed, pressing his nose to your clothed (and extremely wet) pussy. He took a long inhale closing his eyes as his grip tightened on your thighs before opening his eyes again. His pupils had gotten darker.

“I could smell your leaking pussy from miles away. Are you that achy?”

He was mocking you.

It was no surprise that you got insanely wet from making him cum, he knows how easily you can get aroused from the simplest of things like seeing him naked or from his actions as a gentleman toward you.

Besides being feral and primal about breeding you (which he did successfully), he tends to have a certain affinity for smelling your wetness…

Perhaps it messes with his hormones, turns him on even more or he genuinely loves the smell which would be normal as he spends most of his free time between your thighs.

“Harry you know it hurts, just fuck me.” You whined throwing your head back, trying to ignore his devilish grin that tells you he’s up to no good.

“Oh I will darling but how about some questions first?” He took your bikini off so that you were both completely naked and bare for each other.

His muscular body towered over you making you feel safe in his embrace, his cross necklace dangled in front of your face and you couldn’t help but bring your hand forward to move the fallen hair strands from his face.

“Yes love.” You were not sure what these questions were but from the look in his eyes, you knew that you won’t be moving your legs for a few days.

His eyes took in your face features with a cheesy smile plastered on his face, the same one he has on when he tells you that he adores you. He inched his face forward till your noses bumped together and his cologne consumed your thoughts.

His hand slowly reached down to your inner thighs where he rubbed circles dangerously close to your cunt.

“Are you wet because… you wish I could breed you again?…” His eyes burned into yours, his body weight pressing on you.

“…because you sucked me off?” Your breath hitched in your throat when he inserted a finger inside your warm cunt, so that the only sounds heard were the calm waves, the beating of your hearts and the sound of your wet cunt being used.

“…or because you love the idea of being fucked by your fiancée while others want him?” He added in another finger, pushing them deep inside feeling how they got soaked instantly. He fucked them slowly in and out as his eyes raked your facial expression, and relished in the clenching of your warm cunt around his fingers.

“All of them.” You answered as quickly as you could before pouring all of your focus on his fingers, they were now three massaging your folds delicately. Your hands instinctively clung to his back, as you dug your nails into his skin.

“That’s my good girl.” He increased his pace and you knew that some of your wetness must have splashed the sheets. You pushed yourself against his hand for deeper access, making him spank your bum with his other hand.

“I need you inside of me please.” Your begging was frantic and rushed.

“Could never resist this cunt baby.” He pulled his fingers out, and glided his hand over your hips making your skin soaked with your own arousal, as he nipped on your neck (the more hickeys the better).

Heat radiated off your bodies that were intertwined in the best way one could imagine, but both of you needed more. Harry asked for reassurance before lining himself up with your entrance and pushing in slowly.

The first few moments of entering your cunt were better than the whole experience. The clenching of your walls, your warmness, tightness and the tiny whimpers in his ear as your foreheads touch was priceless to him.

It never mattered if the sex was soft or rough, it will always be love making to him.

Love,love,love.

“So fucking tight.” He groaned as he slowly thrusted himself inside your snug cunt, before stilling his hips and taking a deep breath to avoid cumming so soon.

“Full.” It was all you managed to say. Harry’s length could make you cry from how warm and full it makes you feel. Clenching around him is unintentional, it just happens yet you can’t help it. The pain and burn you feel at first made you drool at the mouth, you didn’t mind a little pain kink but whenever his tip pushes through your tight walls, your brain goes numb.

It was as if your cunt itself begged him to go inside. Deeper.

He continued to push himself in till your hips were against each other. You were back in your element, skin on skin, soft rocking, hungry kisses and euphoric feelings.

All the blood was rushing to your engorged clitoris that is growing more sensitive with every passing day, Harry raised your leg over his hip for a deeper angle that made you moan audibly.

His thrusts found a faster pace and you felt the veins on his thick length massage your velvet walls. The sound of wetness echoed in the room as he repeatedly hit your cervix.

“Don’t you ever doubt my love for you.” His tone was both a mix of anger and reassurance. He hated what you implied, how you thought for even a split second that he would look at someone else.

Your walls pulled him in even further with more clenching as you wrapped your legs around his hips and pressed the heel of your feet into his bum in an attempt to get him deeper (if that was even possible).

“I love you.” You whispered through short pants with your nails leaving fresh marks on his skin. His cock worked itself inside your snug cunt, in and out till you could feel him in your tummy, which he probably could too as he was glued to your body.

“Deeper please. Just want you inside.” Some teardrops fell down on your cheek from the pleasure and love you’re feeling and your need for him to be so deep inside. Whenever you had sex, Harry would fuck you so deep you’d feel him for days, yet still it doesn’t seem enough for you.

But his brain worked the exact same way in a repetitive mantra : deep inside y/n, deep inside y/n…

“Yes babylove, gonna leave you sore for a while.” Your bags always contained at least one lube bottle and a cream for soreness because well.. your fiancée is feral.

He picked up his speed with one hand balanced on the mattress and the other pressing on your throat right where his cock reached a few minutes ago.

“This cock made you pregnant. Isn’t that right baby?” His voice was straight out of an erotica book, but you couldn’t reply. You were simply lying down, taking his cock that is thrusting into you hard and fast with your eyes shut as you savored the blissful feeling.

The headboard banged against the wall as the sound of skin slapping filled the room and you almost forgot that you were out in the open on a yacht. Harry imprinted himself everywhere.

His cock fucking you roughly, his hand on your neck, the ache in your muscles, drool on your chin, old and fresh bruises on your skin, your engagement ring and the baby in your tummy.

You let out a string of curse words followed by short words in which you asked him to keep fucking you. The pressure on your neck loosened but only so he could use his hand to pull your face in for a passionate kiss.

“You own me baby. Never forget that.” He stilled his hips for a few moments before pulling himself out, only to thrust back in immediately knocking the breath out of your lungs.

He provided some attention to your perky sensitive nipples right as you stuck your tongue out at him, which he knew was an order to spit onto your tongue. A string of saliva fell from his mouth right into yours before he connected your lips again, moaning into each other’s mouths.

“I’m close.” Your clitoris was so sensitive and lately you’ve been cumming way sooner than you usually do. Your sweaty skin clung onto Harry’s as your orgasm washed over your body with one particular thrust to your cervix.

Harry followed upon hearing you moaning his name as he spurted hot cum inside your walls. The feeling of his seed flowing inside you was peak euphoria. You’re not sure if you could ever have him wear a condom again.

You bit his shoulder knowing how much he liked it but also because you lost your mind when he came inside your pussy. You felt his cum leak from where you were connected down to your thighs and onto the sheets.

“I love being stuffed by your cum.” You whispered a few moments later, earning a chuckle from him.

“Me too my love. Pussy’s made for me.” His fingers danced along your hips and slowly went down near your thighs where he swiped some of the cum that leaked, bringing it to your mouth. You immediately sucked on it and swallowed without hesitation.

“Too fucking greedy. Didn’t let me taste.” He pouted and pretended to be hurt before pushing his tongue inside your mouth.

His cum was still flowing inside your pussy, opting you to clench around his cock. He hissed from the pulsing and swatted your bum as a warning.

“Do you want me to pull out?” He whispered after a few minutes while kissing your temple.

“No just a bit more please.” You shook your head and pulled him closer.

“Whatever you want my love.” Staying inside your warm cum filled pussy was torture, and you knew that of course. His twitching did not go unnoticed but you loved it.

“Do you realise that i’m loyal to you only? I don’t want anyone else.” He murmured with his head resting on your breast.

“I know. You’re mine.” You swiped a hand through his hair before tracing his face with your fingers.

Getting jealous was a natural instinct, but at the end of the day you’re the one he fucks till he’s out of breath and of course you’re the mother of his child.

You’re his and he’s yours. It was as simple as that.

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urhoneycombwitch · 1 month

Text

imagine being loved by me

🍯 honey flavour: your love has stood the test of time, thus far, but a party fit for a rockstar brings up some bitter emotions.

🐝 the bees: rockstar!Eddie x jealous!Reader

wc: 8k

cw: drugs and alcohol consumption, mentions of weight gain (eddie’s, in a positive manner), R has panic/anxiety attack, jealousy (talked about and resolved tho), softdom!Reader, softdom!Eddie, oral (E and R receiving), R has breasts + a V and referred to with she/her pronouns, P in V sex, cumming inside w/out protection

foreword: timeline is wobbly and may not align perfectly w canon bc I’m bad at math so shhhh suspend ur disbelief. based on this anon thank you v much anon <3

___

It’s the coldest January Hawkins has seen in ages. Snow banks sit high on the roadsides, air thick with snowflakes, three-AM fog brought in courtesy of the bitter wind chill.

Under the yellow floodlight of a nearby streetlamp, your boyfriend is sucking down the last of a joint while you stamp your feet against the gravel parking lot.

“C’mon, Eddie,” you whine, crossing the arms of your fleeced puffer jacket, bouncing on your heels to keep the blood flowing. “My toes are gonna get frostbite.”

“A touch dramatic,” Eddie replies, unbothered. The cherry of the joint between his lips burns orange, casting a warm glow over Eddie’s cheekbones, the twinkle of snowflakes caught in his bangs. “I told you to go in without me, princess. Warmer in there.”

“Without you? As if.” You pull the pity card, and it works, ‘cuz it always does- that boy has got to learn how to say no to you, one of these days.

Not today, though, because Eddie is tamping out the ember on the sole of his boot and crunching up the snowy path to sling an arm around your neck.

“Grub time,” he says against your hair, pressing his cold lips to the side of your forehead as you both make your way into Benny’s Burgers.

The heated air is a welcome relief, and save for a couple of old-timers at a side table, you and Eddie are the only customers in the place.

Benny greets you both from where he’s flipping patties on the kitchen grill, waving a spatula at the corner booth- “All yours, kiddos. Want the usual?”

You and Eddie call out affirmatives as you sink into opposing seats, unwrapping yourselves from all your winter gear as you go.

“God bless Benny Hammond for expanding his night hours,” you say, piling your green scarf on the tabletop. “This is a good tradition for us, y’know. Post-band practice smoking and coffee- very rock and roll.”

“I concur.” Eddie tosses his knit hat at you playfully. “You, my lady, have the most rock ‘n roll soul I ever did see.”

As Benny approaches with two mugs of steaming coffee, you muse aloud, “Not sure if the amount of sugar you’re about to dump in your coffee is very metal, per se...”

“Y’hear that, Benny?” Eddie grabs a fistful of sugar packets and shakes them indignantly. “My girl’s trying to keep me on the straight and narrow. How’s a rockstar s’posed to live in these conditions?”

“Lord knows,” Benny says, sardonic, setting the mugs down and turning back to the kitchen.

Eddie winces as his hands wrap around the heat of the mug, and you notice right away. “Your fingers splitting again? I have that salve that you used last time, but it’s back at the trailer.”

He puts his hand face-up onto the table, and you slip yours into his, the deep fingertip grooves from guitar strings rough against your soft palm.

“I’ll live. Plus, it’s kind of metal, right?” Eddie runs a calloused thumb across the back of your hand.

You squeeze back, give him a wink. “Very metal.”

Eddie’s been working himself to the bone lately. Trying to stay in school and not drop out is a feat in itself, but compounded with the band practices that have only ramped up in length recently, it’s a lot to balance.

He hasn’t complained at all, of course. It’s not really in his nature.

In the past few weeks, however, he’s been imbued with this near-manic energy, a renewed sense of purpose. In between your own fitful sleeps you often wake in the early hours of the morning to find Eddie hunched over his desk, pen flying across his notebook as he reworks an old song or outlines a new one. Not that you weren’t proud of him before, but seeing him apply this newfound passion to his music has been a huge source of joy for you.

And, if you’re being really honest, also a major turn on. I mean, the boy’s got swagger like no other, and you’re so glad he’s finally utilizing it on stage. Even if that stage is in the middle of a piece of shit dive bar. Still counts, in your book.

Benny drops off baskets of hot fries, a burger for Eddie, and a BLT for you. Methodic and familiar, you offload half your fries to Eddie’s basket as he slides his burger towards you for the first bite.

After a few minutes of peaceful eating, Eddie balls up a napkin in his fist and raps the table with his knuckles. “So, uh. Kind of have some news.”

You slot the ketchup bottle back into its metal holder and look up with raised brows. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He looks suddenly nervous, knee knocking into the underside of the table as he bounces his leg compulsively. “You remember Paige Warner? Graduated in ‘81, brother is a baseball jock?”

When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath- his unease is kind of setting you on edge.

“What about Paige Warner?” you prompt.

“She moved out to L.A. for a job and she’s working this scouting gig for some bigshot record,” he continues, absently pulling the thin napkin in his hands into pieces, staring vacantly at the mess. “And she wants Corroded Coffin to record and send out a demo to the label.”

As the news sinks in, your jaw drops. “Holy shit. What?”

“Yeah.” Eddie’s fidgeting with the paper scraps now, still not making eye contact with you. “She wants us to start recording next week. I haven’t told anyone else, yet, I wanted to make sure you were the first-”

You interrupt him with an excited little squeal (drawing glares from the old guys across the diner) and shove up from your side of the table to throw your arms around Eddie.

“Holy shit,” you repeat, laughing as Eddie pulls you into his lap- “Eddie, that’s amazing!”

“You think so?” he asks, your enthusiasm allowing his own to creep in; He slides his hands to your denim-clad hips, his self-professed favorite stress toy (well, tied for favorite with your thighs).

“How come you were so nervous to tell me?” You ask him, gently, tucking his dark hair behind his ears so you can see his face better. “Were you thinking I’d react differently?”

He looks up at you wide-eyed, shakes his head- “No, no, I wasn’t worried about you reacting a certain way. I just… I’m just worried about what this’ll mean. You know. For us.”

“Us?” You echo, encouraging him to continue.

Eddie squeezes at your hips, presses the crown of his head against your collarbone like he’s mustering up the courage to speak. “Yeah, us. I know L.A. isn’t your dream- shit, I don’t even know if it’s mine- but you didn’t sign up to go on the road like this. You’ve got college to consider, and-”

“So I’ll take a gap year,” you interrupt, putting a hand to his cheek to make him look at you again, and when he starts to protest, you talk over him. “No, Eddie, I’m serious. I don’t know what the hell I wanna do with my life yet anyways. Following my hot rockstar boyfriend to a new town sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”

He shakes his head again, and you can feel his dimples spring to life under your hand as he teases, “Gonna be my little groupie?”

“And more,” you confirm, giving him a kiss (chaste, so as not to invoke any more ire from the grumpy other customers) and sliding off his lap to return to your own seat. “I’ll be your assistant extraordinaire, if you want. Or bodyguard. Make sure none of the other groupie chicks get too close.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, fondly. “You’re the only groupie I need, sweetheart.”

Settling back into your respective seats, you both work on the last basket of fries while chatting genially about the future. Eddie mentions getting an apartment in Los Angeles, so there’s less of a commute, which branches the conversation into the logistics of a cross-country move, and then on to more important topics such as the alleged coolness of west-coast parties.

“Who’s your celebrity hall pass?” you ask, out of pure interest, dipping a fry into the well of ketchup. “Like, say you’re rubbing elbows at some famous muckety-muck’s party and someone catches your eye. Who’re you taking back to the motel for a slutty roll in the hay?”

Eddie snickers at your phrasing, then says, “I mean, preferably, my super hot girlfriend-”

You throw a fry at his head. “That’s such a cop-out answer. In this hypothetical, Joan Jett is in red leather petting up on you and you’re saying you wouldn’t take her up on a one-night stand?”

A laugh bursts out of Eddie, a real, proper one where he throws his head back. “Are you actively encouraging me to hook up with some bimbo at a random party? Without you? Unlikely scenario on all fronts, babe.”

This earns him another launched fry, and he squawks, trying to shake it out of its place caught in his hair as you reprimand him- “Joan Jett is not some bimbo, watch your mouth! And what I’m saying is, if you didn’t at least try to score us a threesome with her, I’d be pissed.”

“Okay, baby,” Eddie soothes you a tad derisively, likely a ploy to avoid more flying food- “if I meet Joan Jett I will do my level best to get her in our bed. Scout’s honor.”

He holds up two fingers and wiggles them obscenely, grinning when you laugh again. “All right, Nosey McGee. Who are you taking home from the party?”

You hum, eyes flicking up to the ceiling, contemplating the options. “I guess I could be talked into a night with Kirk Hammett.”

Eddie’s turn to launch a fry. “You slut,” he chuckles, “That was a way quicker answer than mine.”

“Okay, fine. If I meet Kirk Hammett, I promise to at least make a bid for threesome. Deal?” You extend your pinkie across the table.

Eddie loops his little finger into yours. “Deal.”

____

The memory of that cozy diner evening years ago fades as you shake yourself to the present.

You aren’t two highschool kids with lofty dreams, anymore- after Eddie’s recovery from all that Upside Down bullshit in ‘86, Corroded Coffin took off. Even though Paige didn’t end up coming through with any deals, Eddie and his bandmates fought like hell to get signed- and by the end of that year, a small record label in the heart of downtown Chicago had taken the bait.

Corroded Coffin turned out to be the best thing to ever happen to Arken Records; by the spring of ‘87, business was booming thanks to the help of Corroded’s debut album, The Banished Ones- their new single was a chart-topper for over 6 weeks. (Smash Hit magazine’s latest review was titled “Fresh Sound Rises from Dirt Nowhere.” You have the paper clipping saved in your ever-growing folder with “rockstar boyfriend!!!” handwritten in black ink.)

And in a few weeks, the band will set off on their first real tour, starting in Chicago and ending with a bang in an already sold-out show in Hawkins- Dustin, Steve, and the rest of the gang with VIP front-row seats, of course.

As much as you and Eddie have grown and matured in the past few years, the core of you both has remained the same. Eddie is still just as dorky, goofy, and caring as he always has been, while you’ve kept that tenacious spirit and quick wit that he fell in love with back in the early days of dating. Even now, with his popularity rising and his rockstar dreams on their way to coming true, Eddie constantly brings his focus back to you.

Pillow talks in cushy hotel beds, late night ramblings over post-show whiskeys, holding hands in the back of yet another cab- when he could be talking about the thousands of exciting things happening in his own life, Eddie is asking about you.

Did you talk to Robin last night, sweetheart? How’s ‘ol Birdie doin? What do you wanna wear to that dinner thingy tomorrow… could go naked for all I care. In fact you probably should because of feminism and all that. Did you sleep okay last night? Let me look at ya. You thinkin’ any more about those applications you got?

You’d taken a gap year to support Eddie, which you were happy to do, but with ‘87 drawing to a close, he’s been more insistent lately that you take a look at all your college options. Honestly, you’ve been enjoying the adventures that come with touring way too much to consider going back to the rigidity of school.

And plus, having the love of your life nearly bleed out in your arms in a parallel dimension has totally realigned your priorities. If folks thought you and Eddie were attached at the hip before…

He’ll likely argue you into academia, eventually. He always rolls high on persuasion. Damn him.

For now, you’ve got a party to attend.

Arken Records is playing host, on the last night of 1987- in celebration of Corroded Coffin’s success and to kick off the New Year’s festivities, they’ve rented out a house in east Chicago for the event.

Well, house isn’t the right word. More like mansion. Vaulted ceilings tall as a church’s, huge windows overlooking the Chicago river, a grand chandelier with flickering candles in nearly every room.

When you and Eddie had toured the place a few days previous, he’d made a joking complaint low in your ear about not having the time to fuck you on every surface. Your laugh had reverberated off the sweeping mahogany floorboards, mostly at the expense of Eddie’s poor publicist who’d happened to hear his comment. (Melanie had really been putting in overtime lately; you made a mental note to send her a very nice flower arrangement and vouchers for a spa trip.)

The party was in full swing by the time you and Eddie arrived, fashionably late, and he had been folded into the throng of other musicians and partygoers against his will pretty much immediately- which you’d expected. The last hour, he’s been throwing you piteous looks from his spot across the room, where he hasn’t had the chance to move an inch with the amount of people keeping the conversation going. You’ve slipped to his side a few times, refreshing his drink, letting him curl an arm around your waist as you perch on his knee, only half-focused on whatever story some producer is saying as Eddie’s hand trails up your thigh.

You’re back on the nearest wall again, sipping champagne, taking it all in. There are probably over a hundred people crammed into this banquet room, bass thumping through the floorboards, tables shoved to the outer corners making space for a makeshift dance space.

The air is hazy with smoke from various cigarettes and joints; as the night has progressed, the smell of freshly-applied cologne has been replaced with heady sweat as the dance floor calls more people to writhe and grind in groups and partners. Eddie is still stuck in the lone pod of living room chairs, surrounded by a rapt audience of people crammed in to hear him better over the blaring music.

He looks damn good tonight, in a cut-off black tee and his favorite ripped jeans, leather jacket hung on the chair behind him. Silver catches the light from every angle- on the chains at his hips, around his neck, glinting off his rings as he gestures animatedly mid-story. He’d asked you to do his eyeliner at the hotel earlier, and although it’s smudged and blurred at the edges now he’s still pulling it off. Tiny silver stars, hand-drawn with your eyeshadow brush, twinkle across his cheeks like freckles.

Eddie wanted to match with you, whined until you added a belt made of gold-plated stars to your outfit. You went simple, the gold to his silver- belt cinching your short black satin slip dress, delicate brass rings and bracelets around your fingers and bare forearms. The one piece of silver you are wearing is a chain around your neck, Eddie’s guitar pick nestled snug between your breasts.

You still resolutely refuse to wear heels, even after Eddie’s stylist cajoled you into practicing on stilettos for a disastrous media training session last month- tonight you’re in a chic pair of Mary Janes with the slightest suggestion of a heel. Compromise.

There’s a big laugh from the crowd in the corner again as Eddie knocks a hand into Gareth’s chest for emphasis, nearly knocking the younger boy off his seat. You stare unabashedly at Eddie’s forearms, biceps on full display; he’s filled out a bit since leaving home, his usually lean frame boasting a bit more weight and bulk now that he’s got consistent access to well-rounded meals.

He’s looking healthy, down right glowy. You’re thinking about that smattered trail of dark hair that slides down the crest of his stomach, now with extra padding enough to sink your teeth into. As if he knows, Eddie catches your eye from across the room and winks, cheekily.

You shiver and unconsciously press your thighs together, hiding your grin with another swallow of champagne.

The alcohol turns a bit sour going down, though, as a crimped-haired blonde girl worms her way to Eddie’s side, laughing a little too loudly at the joke he just told. When she places a manicured hand on one of his shoulders, the thin stem of your glass nearly snaps in your grip.

The thing about rockstars is they have crazy sex appeal. The thing about your rockstar is he’s only interested in you, something that has been proved many times over.

So why is tonight hitting you so hard? Why do you feel nauseous the longer Eddie lets some random woman’s hand stay on his bare skin when you know he’s going home with you, and only you?

Maybe it’s the alcohol, or the overcrowded room, or the memories of Benny’s diner still lingering like a bruise in your mind. Hard to pinpoint exactly. All you know is that jealousy is gnawing like a thing raw and seeking in the pit of your stomach, and if you don’t get out of this stuffy room soon you’re gonna do something tabloid-worthy, like cry in the middle of a New Year’s Eve party.

By the grace of some god you make it across the dance floor and into a side bathroom unscathed, the pulsing sound of the party blissfully dimming as you shut the door behind you. Your mind whirls as you grip the gilded sink for stability, blinking hard at the tears beginning to form.

You love having a boyfriend who’s larger than life. You love that he’s taking up space and getting to use that charm that was nurtured on the DM throne back in Hawkins. You’re so proud of him, you really are.

You’re just starting to hate the way other people’s surface-level love of him makes you feel.

Because that’s what it is, right? Just surface-level, you reason with yourself- the level of intimacy that you and Eddie have is unmatched, something that the newly-formed masses of admirers won’t ever get to experience.

Christ, can jealousy give you hives? You grab a handful of paper towels and soak them in cold tap water, then press the damp bundle to your chest, breath stuttering.

You’ve never been the jealous type, or the overbearing type- it’s a new feeling, and maybe that’s why it feels so scary. The more you try to tamp it down, the more it rears its ugly head, making you, in turn, feel embarrassed for having such a strong reaction in the first place.

It’s a vicious cycle that’s only seeming to gain speed as you realize you haven’t yet managed a full breath since coming to your hiding spot. Your lungs are pinched and burning as you drop the soggy paper into the sink, leaning into the lip of the porcelain to steady yourself.

There’s a knock on the door, and you choke out “Just a minute”, not sure if the person on the other side can even hear you over the music when Eddie’s voice leaks through.

“Baby? That you in there?”

Against your better judgment, you open the door, and he crams in the small space, locking it again behind himself.

“There you are, I saw you leave and thought you were getting a drink or something but then you didn’t come back and- are you okay?”

He interrupts his own stream of consciousness when he notices the state you’re in. You give him a trembly smile, waving a hand dismissively.

“Yeah, all good. I’ll come back with you, just needed to pee.”

Eddie is not so easily thrown off the scent. He murmurs your name, sliding his hand into yours, looking at you with a wounded puppy gaze- fuck, you can’t have a breakdown. Not here, not on New Year’s in some knockoff-Playboy’s bathroom.

And certainly not in front of Eddie, who’s asking you to tell him what’s wrong, what happened, with an increasingly pleading tone that’s really, really not helping your whole Don’t Cry agenda.

Hoping your voice doesn’t break, you clear your throat and pull your hand from his grasp. “Nothing happened, okay? I just had too much to drink, feeling overly sentimental or something. I’m okay.”

You think your white lie was convincing enough when Eddie reaches back for the door handle, that maybe he’ll rejoin the party and leave you to have a good cry, but after poking his head out the doorway briefly he grabs onto your wrist, tugging you to his side and hissing “Quick!”

And then you’re both making a break for it down the mostly-empty hallway, Eddie pulling you smoothly past a wall of expensive-looking oil paintings before going through a set of double doors that lead to the outside.

It’s December in Chicago, which means a light layer of snow covers the terraced garden that Eddie is leading you through, stopping at a stone bench flanked by two scraggly bushes.

“Made it,” he huffs with exertion, dropping your hand to shrug his leather jacket off in favor of draping it around your own shoulders.

“You’re gonna be cold,” you sniffle, partly from the tears, partly from the crisp night air.

“Yeah,” he agrees easily, wrapping you in a hug. You press your forehead to his chest. “Got my girl to keep me warm, though.”

You stay like this for a few moments, his arms solid around you, breaths coming easier as the familiar smell of his tangy skin and that spicy bar soap he uses fills your senses.

“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asks, gently, holding you at arm’s length to study your face.

When you shrug, unsure of where to start, he lets go of you and walks backwards, taking an unflinching seat on the snow-covered bench.

You gasp despite yourself, reaching to pull him up even as he twists out of your grasp- “Eddie, jesus, you’re literally gonna freeze your ass off. Get up!”

But he’s solid in his seat, widening his stance, boots planted on the ground- “I’m not moving until you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, so you better start talking before my jeans freeze to the concrete.”

“It’s nothing,” you insist, but he’s giving you that look again, the one that cracks through the tough exterior every time, and you wrap your arms around yourself under the warmth of his jacket as you admit, “Okay, fine. It’s something. I’m just… having an overreaction.”

“To the shellfish?” he deadpans.

“No, asshole, to the blonde girl who was rubbing up on you earlier,” you snap.

Eddie blinks, genuine confusion in his voice- “There was a blonde girl… rubbing up on me?”

“She was petting your shoulder,” you continue, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the ground. “She was touching you, and I got- jealous, I guess.”

“Baby, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t remember her, at all,” Eddie emphasizes, spreading a palm flat against his chest in a gesture of sincerity, hair shifting across his shoulders as he cocks his head to the side.

His face is too familiar, too earnest for you to be able to say what you’re feeling without bursting into tears, so you turn on your heel, pacing a short loop in front of the bench, your breath hanging in misty clouds as you speak.

“It’s not even about her, necessarily. It’s about me and my stupid emotions. I’m not usually like this- jealous, you know? Like, I’m so proud of you, and everything you’ve accomplished, and I don’t mind sharing you, really I don’t, it’s just…”

You pause in your pacing, let your head drop back to look at the inky black sky pinpricked with stars, and your next words fall out like a confession.

“I just feel like I’m in mourning.”

You can feel his eyes on you still, as you loose the feeling that’s been caught tight in your chest. “It sounds so dramatic, when I say it like that. But I think that’s what it is. I miss when it was just the two of us, in this little bubble where no one knew our names and we just had each other.”

As the words leave your mouth, you scramble to explain, to soften the blow, hands tightening around your upper arms as you turn back to face the boy on the bench. “And I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, or, like, a total jealous bitch, because I really love you and I hope you know I’m not- are you laughing?”

Eddie tries his best to stifle the laughter into his fist when he sees how indignant you look. He rises from the bench, still a bit mirthful, pulling you back into his space. “Sorry, honey, I’m not making fun of you, I promise.”

You’re glaring at him now, and he ducks to kiss at the lines between your brow before pulling back and saying, “I think what you’re feeling is normal, and I don’t think you’re overreacting at all. Remember that asshole at the Smith Center party who kept trying to get your number right in front of me?”

“Vaguely.”

“I wanted to punch his lights out. Make a real scene, kiss you sloppy in front of some cameras.” Eddie cups your face in his hands, soothing his thumb against the wetness of your lashline. “What I’m saying is, I get jealous, too. And I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

“But…” there’s a well of emotions that you’re drawing from, and it’s not empty yet, one nagging thought still surfacing. “But these girls that are coming on to you, they’re like… really hot. I don’t look anything like them.”

Eddie frowns. “Are you seriously trying to make a case for yourself on the grounds of not being really hot? That’s not gonna hold up in court, gorgeous. I mean… have you even looked in a mirror recently?”

He lightly taps his knuckle against your head, trying to get you to crack a smile, but you’re not ready to give in yet.

“You don’t think you’ll get bored of me?” you whisper, dropping your eyes from his consuming gaze to the wyvern inked on the inside of his arm.

“Sweetheart…” Eddie sounds genuinely pained. The ink in his skin stretches as he slips a hand to the back of your neck, cold rings against your skin making you shiver. “I couldn’t ever get bored of you. Not in a million years. We've been through too much together for you to think like that, hm?”

He strokes his thumb down the column of your neck, those doey brown eyes on you again. “Now I’m not saying you shouldn’t ever be jealous, ‘cuz god knows it makes me hot under the collar when you are. But I’m sayin’ I never wanna make you feel like you need to earn me, okay?”

His thumb tracks back up to the hollow of your jaw, taps twice questioningly, and you nod, letting out a shaky, “Okay.”

When he kisses you, it feels like every other time- comfortable, grounding, familiar. His tongue presses against the seam of your lips, and you let him lick into your mouth, gripping at his arms, flushing hot as you give it back to him in spades.

With a short groan, he pulls back, a wet click as your mouths separate- “As much as I wanna jump your bones in this wintry wonderland, I think the snow might’ve actually frozen my balls off.”

You giggle, spanning your hands around the meat of his waist, kissing up into his mouth again- “Poor baby. Want me to warm ‘em up in my mouth?”

He gives a solid smack to your ass for that, his palm smoothing over the stinging skin with condescension when you yelp- “All dish and no take, baby? Not exactly fair.”

____

Despite your weak protestations that you both should probably rejoin the party, at least until midnight, Eddie insists on taking you back to the hotel.

“This party blows, anyways,” he says over his shoulder to you as he leads you back through the halls of the house. “If I hear one more Tears for Fears track I might throw myself into the river from one of the hundred balconies in this place.”

He manages to track down Melanie with some effort, winding his way through the throng of people to where she’d been chatting with a reporter, plucking at her elbow to get her away from the crowd and into the quieter hallway with you.

“We gotta scoot, Mel,” he tells her, really hamming up the charm as the young publicist widens her eyes. “Think you can get us a ride outta here?”

“Mr. Munson, you can’t just leave,” Melanie insists, frazzled. “Someone from Rolling Stone has been waiting for the last hour to talk to you, if you could just-”

“No can do.” Eddie shakes his head, mock-apologetic. “There’s been an accident. Of a personal nature.”

You manage to choke down your laughter as Eddie turns around to show off the dark stains on the back of his jeans. They’re just wet from the snow that he sat in earlier, of course, but it looks convincing enough to make Melanie blanch and pinch the bridge of her nose.

“I’ll have a cab out front in ten for you both. Please keep a low profile until then.”

Eddie gives a sharp salute and you mouth an apology at her before she retreats to find a phone.

Okay, so maybe add a hefty bonus to that Nice Things for Melanie list of yours.

____

One of the perks of having a rockstar for a boyfriend is the sweet digs- the label shelled out for Chicago’s finest penthouse suite; an entire luxurious upper floor with a private elevator, windows overlooking the far-below city lights, and a sunken bath big enough for two.

Also included? Soundproof walls.

A perk you’re very grateful for as Eddie walks you backwards into the room, sucking a mark with stinging teeth into your neck as you moan, then giggle breathily, admonishing- “Christ, Eddie, slow down. We have all night.”

Eddie pulls back just far enough to frown down at you, his hands slipping under the hem of your dress to squeeze at your ass. His rings are cold against your bare flesh, and he grins when you shiver. “Uh huh. Sure do have all night. You gonna take advantage of that?”

He wiggles his eyebrows, cheekily, but that smirk drops from his face in record time the second you shove him to the bed. As his knees give out in favor of sitting on the mattress, you steady your hands against his broad shoulders to swing yourself into his lap.

Eddie’s looking up at you, cinnamon eyes darkened with lust- it makes your stomach flip something awful. Your skin feels alight with heat as Eddie’s hands drip like water down your sides, then to your parted thighs.

You sigh into his mouth as his fingers trace the front of your underwear, the silk sticky with your arousal.

“Oh, baby,” Eddie says, equal parts admonishment and pitying as you squirm into his touch. “What’s got you this worked up, hm?”

He’s asking like he doesn’t know- like he didn’t tease you with filthy whispers and wandering hands in the back of the car the whole way here.

“Whaddya think,” you scoff, not quite ready to give in yet, enjoying the thrill of being cagey as Eddie hooks a finger to tuck your panties to the side.

He grins, simmering, enjoying the chase just as much as you. His middle finger swipes through your folds and you shudder in his arms, hands tightening into the meat of his shoulders as he brings the wetness up to your clit.

Eddie rubs quick, steady circles until you’re mewling, bucking hips grinding down to seek more friction. You can feel the wetness seeping out of your core, dampening his jeans as he licks back into your mouth, capturing the soft noises you’re making as he winds you up.

“Can’t believe a pretty thing like you has anything to be jealous of.” Eddie noses at the spot under your jaw, and when you let your head fall back on a hinge to grant him access, he sucks another mark into the column of your throat. “‘M all yours, sweetheart. You gonna take what’s yours?”

Truth be told, your mind went fuzzy the second Eddie got his hands on your clit, the consistent build of pleasure sparking between your legs rather distracting. You’d almost forgotten how the night had started, but you let the jealousy and possessiveness creep back in as you push at Eddie’s chest.

He goes down easily, toeing his boots off and lying flat on the mattress; big hands settle on your waist as you rest your weight into him, warm cunt pressing against the bulge of his clothed cock.

At a light drag of your nails against his bare chest and across his nipple, Eddie groans low, squeezing your hips and rucking into you.

“You’re all mine, Eddie, right?”

His pupils nearly eclipsing their soft brown irises, Eddie stares up at you like you hang the moon and stars every night just for him. “Yeah, sweetheart. ‘M all yours. Lemme show you.”

Eddie pulls at the backs of your legs, helping you shuffle up his body until your knees are dipping into the mattress at either side of his head. Your core hovers just above Eddie’s mouth- you can feel his breath speed up on the inside of your thigh at this new position.

“Oh, fuck, Eddie- jesus… christ,” the last word ending in a moan as Eddie’s tongue licks a wet stripe through your folds.

He pulls you closer with an arm over each thigh until you’re sitting on his face, his nose hitting your clit with each tilt of his head. You’ve got no idea how he’s able to breathe down there but you’re hardly able to hold onto that thought when his tongue has started plunging in and out of you.

Automatically, your hands shoot out to stabilize yourself- one hand goes to the headboard and the other ends up in his hair, gripping the roots hard. Eddie groans, sending vibrations that make your cunt clench around his lithe tongue.

“Like the taste of my pussy, baby?” you coo down at him, regaining some of your breath to give him attitude.

Reaching a hand back to palm at his cock, you say “No one else can have you like this, hm?”

Eddie catches your eyes as he mouths wetly at your clit, then sucks it into his mouth. Your thighs shake around his ears, your orgasm unfurling in clenching ripples.

“Oh, yeah, Eddie, fuck, I’m coming- just like that, fuck fuck fuck…”

He doesn’t stop suckling at you until you’re gushing around his mouth, then pulling him off by his hair to make him stop.

Eddie heaves in a breath, kissing at the inside of your thigh, his lips and chin shiny with your release. “God, baby. Such pretty noises for me.”

“Mhm.” You shuffle down until your hips are aligned over his, then lean in to lick his mouth clean. “Gonna make some pretty ones for me, now?”

After helping pull his shirt off, Eddie whines softly as you press kisses down his bare chest, and by the time your mouth is pressing over that dark trail of hair that leads into his denim, Eddie’s begging.

“Please, angel, please- need your mouth. Do anything for it, baby, please…”

You rub your cheek against his bulge before pulling back to pop the button on his jeans, then help him shift them down and off his body. Once his black briefs join the growing pile of floor clothes, Eddie’s completely bare and at your mercy.

He gets on his elbows to watch as you mouth at the inside of his thigh, dark hair splayed around his shoulders, chest heaving when you ignore his leaking cock in favor of grazing your teeth against a sensitive spot. “Fuckin’- christ, sweetheart. Come on. Please?”

“Sound pretty when you beg,” you say, mildly, kissing across his heavy sack, hiding a smile when the contact makes him jolt. “Gonna do it some more?”

You keep eye contact as you take one of his balls into your mouth, watching his own eyes roll back so far you can see the whites of them as you use your tongue on him.

“-yeah, baby, yeah- just like that- fucking, fuck, you’re killin’ me…”

Eddie sounds wrecked already, and a hot flush of pride courses through your body at the knowledge that he could come from just this and it’d be you getting him there.

You mouth over to the other side of his sack, rolling the skin wiry with coarse hair against your tongue as Eddie moans above you. When your hand wraps around the base of his cock, starting to move in tandem with the pull of your mouth, Eddie makes a noise like he’s been punched.

A line of drool breaks and hits wet against your chin as you straighten up, settling yourself into the V of his legs and using his thighs as handholds while you begin to kiss up the line of his leaking cock.

He’s got a gorgeous dick, truly. Thick and long, curving slightly to the right, a pretty blue vein snaking up the underside that you lathe your tongue against, seeking out the salty brine at the ruddy head.

Eddie moans, brokenly, white-knuckled hands twisting into the sheets. When your mouth closes around the tip, his elbows give out, leaving him flat against the mattress as you work his length further in.

“Oh my god. Oh, fuck, baby. Please don’t stop. Please. Y’feel so good…”

You hum around the stretch of him in your mouth, relaxing your throat to draw him in a bit more. The spiky jealousy from earlier really is your biggest motivator here; covetous, you’re thinking back to all those first times with Eddie- trembling hands under your bedsheets back in Hawkins, stilted voices and giggles to cover up the awkwardness of trying to learn the other person’s body.

No one will ever know him like you do. No one will ever have all that shared history, those fumbling nights that slowly turned to lovesick days; memories of him on his knees for you, learning all the little things that make you tick, memorizing the song of your body.

The boy is all yours.

Your throat automatically constricts at the intrusion of Eddie’s cock slipping past your soft palate- his hips cant up, which you can hardly fault him for, patient as he’s been with your retrospective and teasing.

Before he can apologize you’re sitting up, wiping at the excess drool with the back of your hand and shucking your dress over your head, letting it and your belt fall to the floor with a soft clunk.

Eddie reaches for you again as you slide your panties down and off, and you let him help you up his body, your knees coming to rest alongside the lightly raised scar tissue at his sides. You stroke a hand down his chest, giving in to a moment of softness before seating yourself fully in Eddie’s lap.

His hands snap to your hips, a near-brutal squeeze as you sink onto his cock. The stretch is always an adjustment, but you’re so wet right now that he slides in easily, a breathy moan from the both of you as the walls of your cunt fit snug around his sizeable length.

“Fuck, you’re perfect.” The crown of Eddie’s head is pressed back into the bed, veins in his taut neck on full display as your hips start to swivel, blunt nails scraping into the soft flesh of your waist. “Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck me.”

With your knees planted on either side of his body, you begin to bounce in steady, rhythmic earnest, going for gold, the desire to bring your boy to the babbling edge overtaking every other thought.

“Feel so good, Eds, so big… can barely fit…” There’s a wet squelch accompanying each bounce now, slick dripping down to the base of his cock, your vice of a cunt flexing with every movement.

“S’all you, baby,” Eddie rasps out, toes curling in the efforts to keep his orgasm at bay for awhile longer. “Got a perfect pussy. Takin’ me so well.”

He’s almost in delirium territory, with you chasing after that bright unwinding pleasure at both of your cores; your hips stutter, hands flat on Eddie’s chest to center yourself, a hunger that you can’t seem to satiate gnawing at the edges.

Eddie notices immediately, feels the falter in your motion and brings his hands to your forearms, rubbing a path up them soothingly- “What’s wrong, angel, hm?”

You’re not sure how to put it into words, wishing (not for the first time) that you could just rest your forehead against his and transmit all the complexities of your emotions through touch alone.

Instead, you sigh out the name that you use when you’re done with taking, a name that lights Eddie up from head to toe as you say it- “Teddy.”

In one swift movement, Eddie slips an arm behind your back and flips you to the mattress, his hair a curtain around both your faces as he leans in to whisper against your mouth- “Teddy’s got you. Arms around me.”

You’re quick to obey, looping your arms around Eddie’s wide shoulders. He slides one hand up the back of your leg, pushing a knee up until it’s at your chest, mouth dropping open briefly when the new angle allows the head of his cock to kiss against that gummy upper wall of your cunt.

“Bored of you,” he huffs, recalling your words from earlier with disdain. “You’re talkin’ to the guy who memorized the first six chapters of The Hobbit just to recite for your bedtime.”

A quick thrust of his pelvis into yours has your stomach clenching in anticipation, brows on a tilt and knitting together as Eddie grins down at you. “Got a wicked attention span, baby. Lemme show you.”

He starts slow, agonizingly so, every inch of his thick cock dragging in and out, wetness pooling down your ass and probably the sheets, too; errant thoughts of housekeeping are rapidly erased as Eddie begins snapping his hips into yours in faster tempo.

He’s working to find that spot, the one that turns your brain to mush and is guaranteed to cause full-body muscle fatigue from the force of your orgasm. Your back arches off the bed, breasts pushing into Eddie’s chest, one arm still supporting your lower back as he laughs hoarsely, half-amazement and half-pride.

“That’s the spot, huh, sweetheart? Atta girl. M’all yours. Take it. Good girl…”

With each thrust, the wiry patch of hair dusted across Eddie’s pubic bone grinds slick and filthy against your clit. You’re so close to the edge now, a wave of pleasure cresting as you look up at Eddie.

There are two thin tracks of black makeup trailing down his face from where tears have made a mess of his eyeliner; rosy spots of flushed color in his cheeks, eyes like twin pools of chocolate, locked with yours as he rocks into you.

He’s learned the song of your body so well, knows every chord to strike- his hand leaves your leg to grasp at your breast, calloused palm against pebbled nipple sending more shockwaves through your body, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you sing for him.

“All yours,” you gasp out, and it feels like victory when his hips stutter and the cresting wave crashes around you both at the same time.

The pleasure roils through your gut, clit throbbing and cunt spasming around Eddie’s cock as he spills into you.

A wrecked, broken string of moans leaves you as you ride out the highs together. Eddie presses his forehead to your collarbone as he chants your name, twitching out the last of his spend, warmth blooming inside.

The quiet that follows is filled with shaking breaths, soft kisses, murmurs of “good job, sweetheart” as you both float back down to earth.

Eddie stays in you for longer than usual, his draped weight a grounding comfort as you trail gentle fingertips up and down his skin, lovingly against the scars that interrupt the smooth flesh of his back. Through the closed windows, you can hear the distant sounds of car horns and the deep boom of fireworks.

Sometime in the last foggy hour of lovemaking, 1987 has given way to a new year.

Eddie pulls his heavy head up from your chest to press kisses to your collarbone. “Happy new year, lover.”

You tuck his hair behind his ears, hands squishing lightly at his cheeks to bring his face close enough for a kiss. “Happy new year to you. Hell of a way to kick it off.”

Eventually, Eddie extricates himself from the intoxicating heat of your body (with minimal whining) and brings a warm washcloth to tenderly wipe away the mess between your thighs. Once you’re both cleaned up, he stretches out against the sheets, pulling the covers up as you hook a leg around his waist and snuggle in.

“So I was thinking,” he starts, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “I wanna take a trip back to Hawkins. Before the tour.”

Your hand stills in its rhythmic circles against Eddie’s chest; heart in your throat, you tilt your chin up so you can gauge Eddie’s reaction. “...yeah?”

“Yeah.” Eddie picks up your hand on his chest, twining his fingers with your as his other hand settles on your bare hip beneath the sheets. “Could visit Wayne for a few days, fool around in that twin bed like we’re teens again.”

He grins at your giggle, taps playfully at your hip- “Gonna parade you around all our old haunts. You’ve gotten even hotter since we left, babe. Gotta really rub it in the faces of those Hawkins Tigers burnouts whose best dates are their own left hands.”

You snort, and Eddie looks pleased again, but then sobers a bit before saying- “I mean, I’ve got my piece of home with me. But I think it could be good, to visit. Just the two of us.”

You’re quiet for a moment, a longing for home that you’ve managed to ignore these past few years resurfacing. “Can we get high and go to that diner? I mean, Nell’s isn’t as good as Benny’s was, but I’ve been craving a Hawkins milkshake.”

“Christ.” Eddie hides his smile in the crook of your neck, dimples springing to life. “You could ask for the Mona Lisa and I’d find a way to get it to you. Fries and a milkshake, that all I need to keep my girl happy?”

“Yeah,” you reply, a contented noise as Eddie settles against your chest again. “That’s all I need.”

___

thank u thank u for reading if you made it this far have a little kiss from me to you <3 xx lulu

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie

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