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r-o-s-e-f-i-r-e · 10 months

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idk i’ve been thinking for the last day about modern day corroded coffin, semi-successful in the local music scene, did a self-funded tour through six states last fall where they all lived in the van together and didn’t shower for four weeks, has a standing gig at the dive bar next to the highway and the strip club, they’re established, they have a small but dedicated local following, they —

“can’t play a WEDDING, are you fucking with me?” eddie says, when gareth shows him the text from his cousin who’s getting married in two weeks and who, as of last night, has no wedding band because they accidentally double booked themselves and gareth’s cousin had sent the deposit in late.

“i’ve explained to him so many times,” gareth says, furiously texting his cousin back, “we’re not that kind of band—”

except gareth’s cousin, instead of responding directly to gareth’s text outlining the musical thesis of corroded coffin or watching the youtube link gareth sends to the show last month where eddie got a black eye in the pit from someone in an inflatable garfield costume, just sends back —

“holy shit,” eddie croaks, looking at the string of zeros on the end of the number gareth’s cousin offers me to pay them in exchange for saving his ass and his wedding and his marriage, since his fiancé was demanding a live band. “that’s—”

“three months of rent for each of us,” gareth says, awed. “that’s buy actual fresh vegetables money. that’s go to the dentist money—”

“yeah, okay, give him my number,” eddie says.

so they spend the next two weeks practicing every white people wedding song they can think of. there’s no way they’ll be able to do, like, get low, tragically, but they can pull off the classics, especially after they bring chrissy onboard for vocals and keyboard. there are places where eddie draws the line — no fucking journey or especially insipid top 40 — but they can do some whitney. abba. fucking — mr. brightside. a lot of it is pretty simple, when you get down to it, “and people will be wasted anyway,” jeff reminds them. there’s an open bar at the six figure venue gareth’s cousin booked. hopefully everyone will be too hyped just hearing the opening baseline to i want you back to notice if they fumble anything hard.

rehearsal montage, chrissy takes the boys to the mall to buy suits montage (except for gareth who, like most transmasc dudes, already has a custom fitted and tailored suit ready to go in his closet; instead he makes catty remarks about brian’s tie choices.) chrissy makes eddie put his hair up and eddie makes jeff shave the experimental mustache he’s been growing and eventually the day of the wedding arrives and they load up the van and drive 45 minutes to the six figure waterfront reception venue.

they riff for about ten minutes while the whole wedding party makes their grand entrance into the massive tent set up on the lawn, ending with gareth’s cousin and his new wife dancing in, the whole crowd screaming and clapping. it’s cute, eddie thinks, vamping as long as he can while gareth’s cousin’s best man takes the mic and introduces the new couple and directs everyone to their seats for dinner.

and meanwhile: best man is frankly one of the hottest dudes eddie’s ever seen. he’s got longish brown hair that he keeps pushing out of his eyes, full lips, an insane shoulder to waist ratio, big hands. eddie sneak looks at him while they play a bunch of low key jazzy standards for people to eat their expensive dinner to. he’s sitting with his arm around the shoulders of a girl with shaggy auburn hair, and they keep leaning in to whisper to each other and giggle, so. oh well. but it doesn’t hurt to look, eddie thinks, watching the guy take his suit jacket off and roll up his sleeves and make a toast to gareth’s cousin and his new wife’s long and joyful marriage.

once most people have had their plates cleared away jeff turns to eddie and the rest of the band and nods, once, and while chrissy plays the opening synth chords to i wanna dance with somebody, jeff turns his front man showmanship deal all the way up.

it’s good. people are fucking hyped, so they throw themselves into it, feeding off the crowd’s energy, and almost no one is more hyped than mr. best man. he’s jumping up and down, his arms around gareth’s cousin and his wife. he knows every word to dancing in the dark (hot). when they transition into robyn’s dancing on my own he turns to the girl with auburn hair and points at her and screams. cute, eddie thinks, watching best man pick her up and spin her around while she downs her wine and shouts along. okay, really fucking hot, eddie thinks, when he finally pulls his loosened tie all the way off and unbuttons the top two buttons of his shirt and eddie can see a hint of chest hair peeking out.

they slow it down for the first dance. it’s the leon bridges one everyone always does, but it’s perfect in jeff’s range, and there is not a single dry motherfucking eye in the audience. they do a couple more slow ones, throughout the night. best man dances with his girlfriend and then gareth’s grandmother and then with every child under the age of 10, letting them stand on his shoes while he twirls them around. how is this guy fucking real, eddie thinks, which of course is when best man notices eddie looking right at him and their eyes meet. best man looks a little flustered, at first, and then grins at eddie, right at him, before spinning the flower girl around in dizzying circles.

jesus christ, eddie thinks.

they’re closing out the night on the only other request gareth's cousin gave them: the one from the end of dirty dancing. jeff thanks the crowd, offers his congratulations to gareth’s cousin, and then goes right into it. except as jeff sings the first line everyone absolutely loses their shit, turning to best man and jumping around him and one of the bridesmaids. what the fucking hell, eddie thinks, keeping one ear on jeff and chrissy’s duet and one ear on the crowd piling around best man “—you guys HAVE to, dude, you’ve GOT to—“ but whatever it is he has to do is not immediately apparent to eddie. best man dances in a circle with the rest of the wedding party and auburn hair and the bride and groom, shout-singing along, and then during the build up to the second prechorus gareth’s cousin’s wife and her bridesmaids start pushing everyone to the sides of the dance floor, so there’s a long space in the middle, so the bridesmaid with curly dark hair is at one end and best man is at the other end and oh my god is he actually going to —

the bridesmaid runs and then launches herself at best man, who lifts her perfectly, right on cue at the peak of the second chorus, his hands steady on her hips while she floats her arms out in front of her just like jennifer grey. they hold it for a few moments while everyone loses their fucking minds and takes a thousand pictures. eddie actually takes his hand off his guitar for a minute. he thinks his mouth is open. he can see the muscles in best man’s arms flexing under his white button up shirt as he carefully lowers the bridesmaid back to the ground, laughing, his eyes scrunched up in joy.

eddie is maybe a little bit in love.

they close it out. the whole crowd whistles and stomps and applauds for them, which feels pretty good, eddie’s not gonna lie. as they start packing it up and high fiving each other and a couple people come over to ask if they have a card, if they’re still booking for next year or the year after (what?) gareth’s cousin comes over and hugs every single one of them, almost in tears, and then adds another 2k to the check he writes for them. eddie pulls out his cigarettes right then and there.

“steve, come meet the band,” he yells, when steve and auburn hair walk past. “gareth saved my whole ass, oh my god —“

“you guys were fucking incredible,” steve says, grinning, shaking gareth’s hand. “best wedding band i’ve heard in years —“

“they’re not even a wedding band!” gareth’s cousin shouts. “they’re like metal — moshing — thrash, i don’t know, LOUD—“

“whoa,” steve says. he pushes his hair out of his eyes and then turns that blinding smile right on eddie. eddie feels struck by it, wants to stagger back like he’s taken an actual blow. “cool, so you guys — play locally, or —?”

“oh my god,” his girlfriend says, rolling her eyes; steve elbows her in the side.

“i like your guitar,” steve says, gesturing at the warlock eddie’s still holding in his non-cigarettes hand.

“oh, uh, thanks,” eddie says.

“it’s a cool shape,” steve says, stepping closer, flicking his eyes down and then back up to meet eddie’s. there’s sweat gathered along his hairline, dampening the ends of his hair. behind him, his girlfriend coughs something loudly that sounds vaguely like slut.

eddie feels his eyebrows go way up.

“uh, thanks, shapes are. you know. shapes are great,” eddie says, nonsensical. he sees gareth shoot him an incredulous look out of the corner of his eye.

“can i bum one?” steve says, looking down to the cigarettes in eddie’s hand.

“totally,” eddie says. “let me just—“ he holds the warlock aloft and gestures to the open guitar case.

“sure,” steve says. he waits around while eddie hustles through getting his shit sorted out and then turns away politely while eddie has a silent desperate telepathic conversation with the rest of the boys, who roll their eyes and make their way over to the still open, still free bar.

where auburn hair is standing and talking to chrissy, putting a hand on chrissy’s arm while she laughs at something chrissy says.

hm, eddie thinks.

“so,” eddie says, walking out from under the tent with steve, down towards the water, awash in the moonlight. he holds out his cigarettes. “you like springsteen?”

#here have some dumb shit #steddie #stranger things #yes the joe keery dirty dancing lift video is playing in my head 24/7 #mine

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ashersanity · 3 months

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— “Shit, who’s my good boy?”

-> content warning! dub-con?, blood, m top bastard! reader

Ever get that high whenever you ruin a cocky bitch, reducing them to a blubbering mess beneath you as they frantically claw at any nearby surface to steady themselves? Dumb fuck, bitten lips normally quirked up into a smug smirk now oozing fresh droplets of blood running over their chin. The panted sighs that escape them, wheezing and gasping, struggling for any sort of breaths. Just the glassy look in their eyes, the wet eyelashes beaded with tears, freely running down their flushed cheeks. Makes you wanna ruin them, bruised fingers curling deeper through the strands of their hair and using it as leverage to fuck ‘em.

If they’re going to be all bark and no bite, might as well use them like they’re meant to be used, slutty and begging to be stuffed full of your cock. Idly rubbing a rough palm over your throbbing, clothed erection, barely constrained by the constricting fabric holding it back. It’s almost amusing, how the stupid fucker is so helplessly out of it, that they don’t even flinch at the smack of your cockhead, oozing precum against their bloodied lips. With a low curse, prying their mouth apart, experimentally slipping a finger in to drag over their pink tongue. Whorish, instinctively sucking on the pad of your thumb only for it to be replaced by something thicker, hotter insistently nudging against their swollen flesh.

Alright, so you might be the bastard here for even taking advantage of the bitch like this, but after all they’ve done to you. Snarky and bratty, never once listening to your well-intentioned advice, it’s only fair to do as you please with them. Fuck it. Cockhead weeping pre-cum, you shove the entirety of your length inside their mouth, head thrown back at the warm, tight heat snugly wrapped around your fat cock. There’s no gentleness to your action, none of that crap, not after how they’ve acted as you grasp for the back of their head, practically face fucking them. Stifled whimpers slipping into needy whines, curve of their throat rhythmically bobbing in time with each of your heated thrusts. Equivalent of a fucking glory hole, that’s what it is. This stupid, dumb bastard is now all yours and they’re gagging on your cock as though they’ve just been given the taste of it.

— “Fuck, fuck — Haah.. That’s my good fucking bitch. Keep suckin’ like that fer’ me.”

That’s right, balls tightening in need, pulsing cum squirting across their pretty face, burying yourself into the back of their sloppy mouth one last time. Your thick, sticky load dripping from between their lips, struggling to take it all in as you begrudgingly part away from them at last.

— “Make sure to swallow it all, you slut.”

And they do — they do just that, swallowing your thick seed with a faint gulp, dazed off of your fucking cock. Utterly broken.

— “Now that’s my boy.”

whitney, avery, remy, gojo satoru?, suguru geto?, childe?, toji fushiguro?, kaeya alberich?, scaramouche?, reo mikage?, your favorites. shit, i fucking forgot.

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brooooswriting · 2 months

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Hi! Could you please write a Leighton x r where r has too much to drink and forgets that Leighton is their gf and they are all flirty

My idiot

(Not the biggest fan of this one)

You’ve always been in flirt, ever since high school that was what people knew you as. It wasn’t really intentional, more just your personality and sure, sometimes it was just fun. College started the same way, you flirted here and there on purpose and the rest of the time it was just your personality.

At least until you ended up with Leighton. You didn’t change your personality but you kept it down and never flirted with anyone, but her of course, on purpose. She didn’t expect you to change and she thought it was kinda funny when people thought you were flirting with them right in front of her.

“I’m so hyped for this party” Bella told you four as you stood in their dorm with a shot in hand. All of you cheered as you were just as hyped, it had been way too long since the last one.

“Me too, but she should still drink responsibly” Kimberly said as you immediately refilled the glasses. You knew that she only meant it in a good way and you loved her for that, she was a great friend but you were going to a frat party and that was only possible if you were drunk.

“Kimberly, love, take this and shhh” you smiled kindly as she laughed. She knew you didn’t mean it in a rude way as you gave her a warm smile and she took the shot like you told her to.

“Damn, this queue is way too long” Whitney whined, earning a sigh from Bella before she suddenly gasped. And a gasping Bella was never a good thing, not once.

“I have an idea” she started and carefully looked at Leighton which made you even more weary of the idea. “Leighton, don’t kill me. But y/n should go up there and flirt us in” you could see Kimberly’s breath hitch and yours did too.

“I mean if it’s okay for y/n and he doesn’t touch her” you were surprised but only gave them a nonchalant nod as you were fine with whatever. “Well, go get us in baby” she pressed a couple of kisses to your lips before letting you off.

It didn’t take you longer than 5 minutes to get all of you in. Now you had to make sure that you weren’t going to see him in the house again as that would be more than uncomfortable but at least Leighton didn’t have to stand in the cold air anymore with her short black dress.

“Omg y/n, let’s get shots” Lila said as soon as you walked in which made all of you laugh. You gave her a nod before turning to your group.

“You guys want one too?” As all of them nodded you wandered off with your friend to get them. But you should have known that Lila wasn’t gonna let you off that easily.

“Can we have 10 shots please?” Lila asked the ‘bartender’ who quickly handed them to her.

“The fuck are you gonna do with 10 shots buddy?” You laughed.

“The question isn’t what I’m gonna do with it, the question is what we are gonna do with it. And we are gonna drink 2 each now and then we can go back and you can drink one with your girl” you would have loved to fight her but it would have been useless. So you clicked the cups and downed both of them shortly after another.

“I’m never getting drinks with you again” you laughed as you took the rest of the shots and went to find your group. “Ah, here we are. One for each” you handed out the shots until all of you had one, so you could settle next to Leighton your hand resting on her lower back.

Lila said something inappropriate as a toast and all of you downed the shots. “Why were you guys gone so long?” Your girlfriend asked as she leaned into you.

“Lila made me take two shots right there” you giggled, the alcohol hitting you slightly. You could feel the blondes snort against your body which made you smile wider.

“Leigh, can you wingman me?” Bella asked her once she spotted a dude she liked. You gave her a short nod when she asked if it was okay to leave you for a moment and kissed her before also wandering off.

“Y/n, didn’t think I’d see you here” Caneen greeted you as you nearly ran into you. “Come and be my beer pong partner” he dragged you away before you could say anything.

Once you won the game, you looked around to find your girlfriend send you a look clearly asking for help as somebody kept chewing off her ear. You excused yourself from the game and walked up to her, your hand wrapping around her waist. “Sorry, can I steal my girl really quick?” You didn’t waist for an answer, just pulling her away by her waist. “Jeez, that guy was boring” you whispered into her ear as you pulled her further which made her laugh.

“You’ve only listened to him for a couple of seconds, he was talking for like 10 minutes before you came” she groaned which made you laugh as you finally arrived at a secluded, quieter corner.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you the whole night. You look really hot in that dress” you grinned. Leighton leaned against the wall as your hands caressed her waist, sometimes dipping down a bit.

“Mhm, how hot do I look?” She flirted. You started to kiss her, leading you two to make out for a moment. The alcohol made you more needy as you have barely seen each other the whole time. But it seems like it wasn’t over as there suddenly was a knock on the door.

“Y/n, Caneen is down there about to get in a fight. Come and calm him down, that idiot isn’t listening to me” Lila screamed making you sigh as you had to pull away.

“We are just too popular” you joked to Leighton who also groaned and buried her face in your neck. “I’m coming L” you gave her another kiss before walking downstairs with the other girl. You calmed down the situation as you pulled the man away and promised him more drinking. Stupid decision.

The next thing you really remember was seeing a really really pretty and hot blonde girl dancing with an Indian girl and two other people whose backs were facing you. “Lla, m gna get ‘at grl over there” you slurred pointing to the woman which made your drinking partner gasp.

“You wkd mije such a hot couple” she slurred just as much as you did. You walked off to find the pretty girl and talk to here.

“Hey there” you said with the most charming smile you could muster and you were more than happy to see that she smiled back as she greeted you. “I just wanted to tell you that you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen and that if you’re single I’d love to have your number” she stared at you for a moment deciding whether you were really too drunk to know that she was your girlfriend or if you were kidding.

“Are you being serious?” She asked, her eyes scanning your face as she and Whitney had to hold in their laughs. You gave her a nod as you slightly leaned against Lila who was just as drunk.

“Yeah, I mean I can only imagine that your personality is just as beautiful as you. So can I have your number cause I lost mine” you flirted again, Lila adding a ‘period’ which made Whitney break. She had to take a step back as she laughed.

“I’m sorry but I got a girl, her name is y/n” Leighton said seriously and watched your face fall before it suddenly lit up again.

“My name is y/n” you suddenly exclaimed, a happy look on your face that then fell again. “What’s her last name?”

“Oh it’s Y/l/n” the blonde was actually amazed. How were you so damn drunk?

“Damn she’ll never be as good as this girl bitch. She’s the one” Lila hyped you up as you gave the hot girl a sad smile.

“Well, I wish you all the best” you mumbled and were about to turn before the girl next to you suddenly gasped.

“Oh my god, Y/n that’s your last name. You’re y/n y/l/n” now it was your time to gasp which ultimately made your girlfriend break out in laughter.

“I’m your girlfriend?”

“Yes, yes you are” she couldn’t help but giggle when she saw how big your eyes were as you stared down at her with love.

“Damn I’m lucky, you’re so hot”

“I’m the greatest wingman ever. Now I’m gonna find someone hot, so bye bitches”

Once Lila’s support was gone you had a hard time standing which the blonde seemed to notice as she put her hands on you to support your weight. “Would your heart skip a beat too if we kissed now?” You flirted again, your brows raised a bit as you bit your lip.

She snorted a bit and nodded before hoisting your arm around her so she could walk with you. “Let’s go back” she said, not yet walking as she wanted you to be ready.

“Can I follow you home? My parents told me to follow my dreams” it was hard to make out your slurred words but she still could which made her laugh even more.

“Sure, let’s go” with her arm around yours waist she led you to say goodbye to her roommates before walking out with you.

“Who would have thought that I’d leave the party with the prettiest girl?” You asked, your voice was so genuine that it did in fact make her heart skip a beat. Sure, she knew that you loved her and that you thought she was pretty but the fact that even when you were black out drunk and couldn’t realize who she was, you’d always come to her.

“You’re an idiot” she mumbled with a smile that even showed her teeth. You didn’t hear her as you kept on talking about how pretty she was. Once she finally got you into her dorm she gave you your pjs that you left at hers. As she moved to help you change you suddenly pulled back.

“No! I got a girlfriend! Don’t touch me” you grumbled as your back was turned towards her. Your shirt came off easily but you struggled with the clip of your bra as you just couldn’t coordinate your hands so she stepped closer to do it for you. “Don’t touch me! I’m taken”

“Y/n, baby. It’s me, Leighton?” She immediately heard you sigh happily as you turned your head to look at her, which was followed by a happy smile. Once you have her the okay she opened your bra and helped you put on your top. The moment you were changed you fell into her bed, burying yourself in the pillows and the thick comforter. It didn’t take long for the blonde to join and you clung on to her as soon as possible.

She knew that tomorrow your headache was going to kill you and that you weren’t going to remember most of the night. But the memory of you trying to hit on her because you couldn’t remember that you guys were dating was going to stay forever. And she’s never let you forget it, ever.

#reader insert #brooooswriting #leighton murray x reader #renee rapp x reader

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leclercss · 10 months

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Tainted Love, Part 1 (Charles Leclerc)

Masterlist

plot: in an attempt to fix your marriage, you've reluctantly agreed into being in an open relationship with your husband. so far, it's only been your husband that has taken advantage of your recent arrangement until one night out you meet a man who makes you begin to question your marriage.

pairings: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: (+18) mentions of smut, cheating and some swearing

authors note: this is based on a story that i was writing in my spare time but thought it would be interesting to use Charles and a couple of other drivers as characters instead. so Charles is used as a character inspo rather than it including his life as an f1 driver. would love to hear your thoughts and if you'd be open for a part 2. i'm thinking of making this a longer fic.

word count: 4.8k

"[Y/N!]”

You don't really hear your name being called at first. You've been stuck in your own thoughts for the last five minutes, staring at nothing in particular.

"[Y/N]!" It's a little louder this time but still not enough to knock you out of the deep trance you've found yourself in. It's only when you get an elbow into your side and the champagne that's in your hand falls onto your lap that you finally snap out of it.

"Shit!' you squeal as you look down at the champagne that now soaks the bottom of your dress.

"Oh my God! I'm so sorry," the girl beside you laughs, "We've been trying to your attention for the last minute."

You look up at her, eyebrows furrowed. You can't remember her name. Was it Bethany? Stephanie? You didn't care, to be honest. It didn't really matter anyway; she wasn't your friend. You were only here as you were roped into pre-drinks before a girls' night out by your best friend, who was the only person you know here.

"It's fine, I was totally out of it," you mumble as you reach out for a napkin to dry the bottom of your dress.

"No shit," you hear a familiar voice say with a hint of smugness. You look across the table and see your best friend Whitney holding back a smirk. "You're on your fourth glass of champagne. I'd be out of it too if I was drinking as quickly as you've been".

You chuckle half-heartedly. Laughing it off as if it was the bottle of Moet that you mostly managed to get through on your own which caused you to be zoned out for so long. Not the fact that you’ve been replaying the arguments that you’ve been having with your husband over the last few weeks in your head. Nor the fact that you’ve been thinking about your shambles of a marriage.

As Whitney takes her attention off you to start cleaning up the mess, you let out a little sigh to yourself and go back to your previous thoughts.

How had your marriage gotten to this point?

You had been so in love with your husband when you first met. In fact, he’d been the only person you had ever been in love with. There was a ten-year age gap between the two of you but that hadn’t stopped you both falling for each other so quickly. He was one of the first people you had gotten to know when you first moved to London six years ago. You’d met on a night out about three months after moving to the city. The physical attraction was instant but that blossomed into something much deeper and within two years you had gotten married. He was your rock, your entire world. And maybe that was a bit of a risk for a girl, who at that point was in her early twenties, to depend on somebody so much and so quickly.

You had a few sceptics when it came to your relationship back in the early days. A few friends from back home had told you it was just a whirlwind romance with a hot older guy. Your mother had been unsure about the age gap. What would a girl in her early twenties need from a man in his early thirties? And what would a man in his early thirties need from a woman in her early twenties?

Your brother had joked that it was probably daddy issues.

You married him anyway. And the first two years of marriage had been bliss. Until about eighteen months ago when things had started to change. Your husband spent more time away from home (he said it was work related), the sex had become less regular (not by a lack of trying on your part) and you slowly started to feel like a spare part in your marriage.

You started to have a feeling that someone else was now involved in your marriage. And that feeling was unofficially confirmed to you when your husband had brought up the possibility of having an open relationship - basically, he could fuck whoever he wanted, and you couldn’t (and wouldn’t) complain about it. You reluctantly agreed. You loved your husband, and you were willing to make this sacrifice if it means that you could start to repair your marriage. But you were so wrong.

Deep down you knew that you were never going to leave him. And your husband knew that too. Six months into your “open relationship” and your husband had been taking full advantage of the arrangement. Meanwhile, you took the opposite approach and hadn’t slept with anyone outside of your marriage. Despite that, your jealousy grew towards your husbands’ new partners and your loyalty was wearing thin. You had initially been quiet about your doubts when it came to your arrangement. But lately you had been more vocal to your husband about your feelings. Of course, he dismissed those feelings. That’s why you were arguing lately. He had told you that it was something you both needed in your marriage, you guys were too dependent on one other. You told him that you should be enough for him, you didn’t need other people to fill whatever void he was feeling. But you were beginning to realise that maybe you weren’t enough for him.

“Oi! Snap out of it. I’ve poured you another glass. But you better drink it quickly. And fix your dress because the Uber is getting here in ten minutes,” Whitney scolds as she shoves the champagne glass back into your hand.

“Thanks, Whit.” You can’t help but smile at her. Apart from your husband, Whitney had been your only other source of love and stability during your years in London. And that was why she had dragged you out tonight to pull you out of your recent misery.

“You know what you need? A girl’s night out! And before you roll your eyes and tell me how you’re officially too old for clubbing, we’re going out. You need to spend time with someone else other than him. And it’s been so long since you’ve been shitfaced,” is what Whitney had said when you had told her that you and your husband had been arguing more and more these days. You still hadn’t told her about the open marriage thing. She’d never forgive you for agreeing to it.

You flash her a smile before downing your last glass of champagne. Despite your hesitation, maybe a girls’ night out was what you needed.

“To getting shitfaced!” you yell before throwing the hard liquor down your throat. You try not to gag as you slam the empty shot glass down on the bar. Despite your previous doubts of this girl’s night out, you had been having a good time. It wasn’t your usual scene, but you had made an effort to join in and found yourself in a tipsy but playful mood.

“Come on, Stephanie has found a group of hot guys who’ve got a table,” Whitney shouts in your ear. You look at her and giggle, “Seriously?”

“Seriously! Now come on, I think they’re French.”

You allow yourself to be dragged over to the table where the other girls were mingling and flirting with a group of guys. You take a quick glance; they look about two or three years younger than you. Not your type (there was no harm in looking) but they were definitely good-looking.

“This is my friend Whitney, she’s single by the way. And this is her friend, [Y/N},” you hear Stephanie tell them. “But she’s married”.

One of the guys looks at you and lets out a laugh, “What a shame. Lucky guy”. You try to fake a smile at his remark, but your mind momentarily flashes back to your husband.

Rather than trying to come up with a response, you look around the table for something to drink. “Who’s up for some shots?” you ask before grabbing whatever alcohol you can find on the table. God, the hangover is going to be deadly tomorrow.

Just as you’re about to pour yourself something, you feel someone lean over to place a tray of Jager bombs on the table in front of you. “Did someone say shots?” he shouts before being met with a round of cheers. Before you have a chance to look up, the guy has sat down beside you. He leans over and whispers in your ear, “Weren’t you just doing tequila at the bar?” His breath is hot in your ear, his accent even hotter.

“Didn’t know there was a limit to how many shots a girl could have,” you tease, your playful mood apparent.

As you turn to face him, you’re met with a pair of piercing green eyes staring back at you. Fuck, they’re gorgeous. He’s said something to you but you’re too busy staring into his eyes that’s you have no idea what he’s said to you. “Huh?”

You only break eye contact with him as you notice his eyes start to scan your face, most notably he’s looking at your lips before lowering his eyes towards your cleavage. His eyes stay there for a moment before he’s looking into your eyes again. A knot begins to tie in your stomach.

You feel yourself starting to blush at the intense eye contact when you see his mouth start to move again. You really have no clue what he’s said this time.

“I’m sorry, what?”

He chuckles. He quickly scans your face again, smirk still intact, before leaning over to your ear once more. “I said, there’s no limit as long as it doesn’t stop me dancing with you later.”

As he leans back, you can’t help but admire his face. He has a light amount of facial hair, making his somewhat boyish face slightly more mature and handsome. You notice his dimples as he continues to smirk at you before taking a not-so-subtle glance at his lips. As you look back up at his eyes, you realised your staring is painfully obvious.

He leans over you and grabs two glasses from the tray of shots, handing you one. His eyes are back on yours again as he clinks his glass against yours, “Cheers!” You down the shot, wincing in the process before slamming the glass back on the table. “That was disgusting,” you groan before letting out a giggle.

You look back at the Frenchman who’s smiling at you. “Now I’ve gotten you a drink, are you going to tell me your name?” he asks. As he does so, he leans in slightly, so his face is a little closer to yours.

“It’s [Y/N],” you reply. “And yours?”

But before he has a chance to respond, the guy sitting behind your drinking companion leans over and chuckles, “Leave the girl alone, Charles. She’s married,” before turning back to his previous conversation. The beautiful man in front of you, who you’re assuming is Charles, looks back at you. “Married, huh?” He doesn’t look phased.

You nod. “And he’s not with you tonight?”

“No, it’s girls’ night. No husbands or boyfriends allowed,” you reply.

“And what other rules do you have on these girls’ nights?”

“Get as drunk as humanly possible with a group of hot guys.”

You’ve spent quite a while talking to Charles. He’s still flirting with you, lightly pushing the boundaries of “I know you’re married”. You’ve learned he’s from Monaco, not France. And he’s been living in London for about a year with a group of his friends from back home. He’s single (you’re not entirely sure how when he looks like that) and he’s better at handling his alcohol than you are.

You’ve spent a short amount of time getting to know some of his friends. His best friend Joris has been getting cosy with Whitney. You didn’t even get a chance to learn one guy’s name before he had started making out with Stephanie. The others you’re too drunk to remember they’re even here. However, your attention always falls back on Charles. And his attention always falls back on you.

You hadn’t even spared a thought about your husband until you saw your phone light up. First you notice your phone background, a picture of you and your husband kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower (and you’re aware that Charles is looking at your phone too). Then his name pops up on your screen. You glance at the message through your alcohol-blurred vision. It says something along the lines of how your night was going and if you were coming back home tonight. You roll eyes before swiping away the message.

“Husband?” Charles asks you. His finger has been tracing your knee for the last few minutes. You nod, trying to push the face of your husband to the back of your mind.

“Yeah, nothing important.”

Charles smiles at you. “How long have you two been married?”

“Four years, together for six.”

“Six years, you must have been late teens when you got together right?” you think it’s his attempt of saying you look good for your late twenties (as if that’s old). But it works on you momentarily, or it’s the fact that the finger tracing your leg has now turned into a hand.

“Well, I was twenty-one. He’s ten years older,” you tell him.

“And how’s that going? Is he okay with these girls’ nights out?”

You’re not sure why he’s quizzing you. It’s probably because of the face you pulled when you saw your husband’s name pop up on your screen. Or the fact that you haven’t mentioned him once all night. Most girls Charles has come across quickly name-drop their partner into conversations quite quickly if they aren’t interested but not you. Your body language has changed since the mention of your husband. And you’ve only been giving short answers when being questioned about him which tells Charles that your husband may be the reason you’re here tonight.

“He has his nights out, I have mine,” you lie before having a quick look around the table. “I’m not here to talk about married life.”

You momentarily look back to Charles who seems a bit taken back by your bluntness before looking back across at Whitney who’s no longer being occupied by Joris. “Whitney, can we go dancing?”

“Let’s do it!”

You stand up from your seat and look down at Charles. “I’m going to go dance. Whenever you want to do another shot come grab me,” you tell him before Whitney takes your arm and leads you to the dance floor. You feel a bit rude for ending your conversation with Charles so abruptly. But you weren’t here to spend the night talking about a man you’re trying to avoid.

Swaying your hips to the music and dancing with your best friend was exactly what you needed. The alcohol was well and truly coursing through your body at this point and it gave you the confidence you needed to feel sexy on the dancefloor. You weren’t a bad dancer by any means, but the numerous shots and glasses of champagne were a big help.

Whitney had reunited with Joris on the dancefloor, grinding and making out with one another. You didn’t mind dancing on your own. You were lost in the rhythm of the music, attracting some bystanders who you subtly moved away from when they got too close.

That was until you felt someone place their arm around your waist from behind. The hand felt familiar, but you couldn’t quite place it until you felt a mouth press against your ear. “You were looking a little lonely, thought I’d come and join you.”

You could get used to that voice whispering in your ear.

You look up at him and smile, “How thoughtful of you, Charles.” You were a little too drunk to care about the fact that his other hand found itself around your waist, pulling your body towards gently towards him. Mostly because you were enjoying it.

You felt his torso press against your back, and you leaned against his body as his hips joined yours in swaying to the music. As the both of you found your rhythm, you pressed your ass against his crotch and grinded a little harder on him. Truly letting yourself get lost in the moment with him. You think you hear Whitney cheer at the sight in front of her, but your only focus is on your movements against Charles. You feel one of his hands slide from your waist towards your ass, squeezing it a little before running it back up your waist to just below your breasts.

Fuck, that felt good.

You lean the back of your head against Charles’ chest and peer up at him through your lashes. He’s looking down at you and slowly moves his face towards yours, hips still moving in synchronisation. You look into his eyes, his attention fully on you before you take a quick glance at his lips. They’re slightly parted and if you didn’t have a slight nagging voice in the back of your head you totally would have kissed him. You’re suddenly nervous, you haven’t felt like this with a guy since you first met your husband. It’s new territory but it excites you. Is this why your husband wanted an open relationship? For the thrill and excitement of being so close and almost intimate with someone that wasn’t you?

Charles notices that you’ve gotten lost in your thoughts but wants your attention back on him. He lifts your chin with his thumb, so your face is closer to his and mimics your actions from a few moments ago – looking into your eyes before looking at your lips. You can feel his breath hitting your face and so you lick your lips. If he wants to kiss you, he’s going to have to make the first move.

He senses this and leans in; your parted lips meet his. You’re not sure if it’s nerves but it’s almost like you’ve forgotten how to kiss. The feeling of Charles’ lips against yours has caused all thoughts and logic to leave your body. You’re thankful that he takes the initiative once again and starts to move his lips against yours. You find your momentum again as your place one of your arms behind your head and place your hands on Charles’ cheek, your back still firmly pressed against his torso. As you continue to kiss, you notice that his crotch is still placed firmly against your ass, the bulge in his pants is slightly harder this time and it causes you to feel a slight tingle in your underwear.

As your kiss becomes more passionate, Charles turns you around so you’re face to face. He cups your cheeks with one of his hands, his thumb firmly under your chin and he reconnects your lips together. This time he slips his tongue into your mouth, and it begins to move against yours. The tingly sensation in your underwear is back again and it causes you to moan against Charles mouth. You can feel him smile against your lips, but it doesn’t stop him, it only encourages him to deepen this kiss even further. It’s like you’re the only two people in the room. Your body is tightly pressed against his, slowly tracing his chest with your fingers while Charles’ hands are covering as much body surface as possible. The hand that was cupping your cheek is now on your breast, his thumb grazing over the area where your nipple is. You’re not wearing a bra, so your nipple hardens at his touch, causing him to smile into your kiss once again. His other hand is very low on your back, his fingers spread across the top of your bum.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been kissing for, it could be thirty seconds or thirty minutes but you don’t want to stop. One of your hands finds its way into his silky brown hair and you tug on it lightly. In retaliation, he squeezes one your bum cheeks. This time you’re the one smiling against his lips.

After what feels like an eternity, you both part from the kiss. Your eyes meet his and it feels like you’re in a trance with him. All you can do is just look at him, only him. You’re not sure how long you’ve been standing like this, your hands on his chests, his on your waist. Once again, it’s Charles that takes the initiative but this time in conversation.

He leans down to your ear, your body lightly pressed against his. “Do you want to come back with me tonight?” He leans his head back slightly to gage your reaction. You quickly lick your lips. Your body is telling you to say yes – the tingle in your underwear is only getting bigger. But your head is pounding and you’re not able to open your mouth. The only thing you can do is move and so you move one of your hands from his chest up to Charles’ cheek, your thumb slow soothing the soft skin beneath you.

He's still waiting for an answer. His green eyes staring into yours.

As you finally muster up the courage to speak you feel you feel a strange hand placed on your shoulder. You jump slightly at the sudden touch of contact which clearly isn’t from Charles and turn your head into the direction it came from. Stephanie, the queen of impeccable timing, is smiling at you. She’s saying something to you but you’re not really paying attention.

Only until she starts waving your phone in front of your face do you realise what she’s saying. You thank her before taking your phone and looking at the screen.

It’s your husband. Out of all the nights he could have given you attention, it had to be tonight. You quickly look at your phone and see a missed call accompanied by three or four more unread texts. From a quick glance, you see he’s a bit concerned that you hadn’t responded to his previous message telling him what time you’d been home. He’d never usually ask so it’s a bit baffling to you why he’d suddenly care now. Then again, it’s the first “girls’ night” you’d gone out to in about two years. And you remembered the arguments you guys had been having for the past few weeks and the way you stormed out of the flat this morning.

And what you didn’t realise is that he had seen you pack one of your more revealing dresses in anger when you told him you were going out with Whitney and a few of her girlfriends tonight.

He was worried. Not about you. But about what you might be doing.

“Is everything okay?” Charles voice brings you back to reality and you look up at him for the first time since Stephanie had given you your phone. You hope he hasn’t seen you gulp but he has. He notices a flicker of hesitation in your eyes.

You nod and smile at him, but he’s not convinced. Your husband’s messages have brought you back to reality and your body language has become closed off. You’re no longer touching Charles. He removes his hands from your waist and you’re both left standing there awkwardly on the dancefloor.

You open your mouth to say something but at first nothing comes out. You let out a deep breath before you finally allow yourself to speak, “I can’t. I’m… I’m married, Charles.” He breaks eye contact with you and place his hands into his jean pockets. He’s nodding but doesn’t really say anything.

You both stand there awkwardly for a few moments before you speak again, “I think I need to go. I’m sorry, Charles”. You lean up to place a soft kiss on his cheek. His posture softens a little bit, but he’s disappointed.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says. It sounds a little deflated and you can’t help but feel guilty. Moments before Stephanie had handed you your phone, you would have easily said yes to anything Charles would have asked you but now you find yourself in a weird mindset. You’re curious and you want to know what going home with him feels like, but your husbands’ messages are now imprinted in your brain. And so, you take the easier option which is to go home to your husband and be the loyal wife you’ve talked yourself into being for the last eighteen months.

“Have a good night, Charles,” you say softly before flashing a sympathetic smile. You turn away to leave the dancefloor when you feel Charles’ hand wrap around your arm. He tugs you back towards him and grabs your phone out of your hand. He gestures for you to put in your pin, and you oblige. He takes your phone once again and taps away on the keyboard before handing your phone back to you. You look at your screen to see he’s put his number into your phone.

“For whenever you need another “girls’ night”,” he whispers into your ear before letting you leave.

You quickly search for Whitney to let her know that you’re leaving before ordering an Uber home. As you hug Whitney goodbye, she leans in and whispers, “I hope you had fun tonight. I won’t say anything”. And you know she’s referring to the kiss that you’ve shared with Charles not so long ago. You thank her before making your way out of the club and getting into the Uber which arrives a few minutes later.

You rest your head against the window as you the Uber takes you through the busy London streets. You can’t help but feel disappointed with how your night ended and your mind flashes back to the look on Charles’ face when you told him you were leaving. A part of you wishing you had stayed.

You let out a little sigh and shut your eyes, pushing the image of Charles and the feeling of his lips against yours to the back of your head before opening your eyes again. Your phone lights up, catching your attention and you see a text from Whitney asking if you had made it home yet. You scroll down a little further on your notifications to see the unread text messages and missed calls from your husband.

You unlock your phone and start to type up your replies.

The first text.

Whitney: Just in the Uber now, be home in 20 x

The second text.

Lewis ♥: Staying at Whitney’s tonight. I’ll be home before noon tomorrow. Love you xx

You close your conversation with your husband and click on the + icon to open a new message. You let out another sigh before you begin typing the message.

To Charles: Hey, it’s [Y/N]. We didn’t get to finish our dance, mind if I come to yours? X

Your thumb hovers over the send button. You’ve typed your message, now all you have to do is send the it. Shit! You’re such a coward. You tell yourself that if you count to five you’ll send the message. Okay…

5…

4…

3…

2…

1…

Sent.

You quickly lock your phone out of embarrassment and throw it onto the seat beside you. Shit, why did you just do that? You refuse to look at your phone and tell yourself it was a dumb idea to message Charles. You just need to get home, get to bed and pretend like it never happened.

It’s about fifteen or so minutes later and you’re only a few streets away from your apartment. You’ve told yourself not to look at your phone but at the same time you’re curious to see if Charles has responded.

You pick up your phone quickly and see a couple of texts.

First from Whitney:

Text me when you’re in. Love you! Thanks so much for a great night xxx

Then from your husband:

Okay, text me if you need me to pick you up in the morning. Night, love you x

But it’s the third message that piques your interest the most. From Charles:

You changed your mind? We’re on the way home now. Here’s my address if you’re still up for it? X

You can’t help but smile to yourself. As the Uber driver pulls up outside of your apartment building, you look up towards your apartment window, the curtains are closed but a flicker of light is breaking out from the lamp on inside. Knowing Lewis is awake prompts you to make your next decision and you hand your phone to the Uber driver.

“Sorry, I need to go to this address instead”.

The Uber drive grunts at you but he begrudgingly types in the new address before pulling off. You can’t help but smile to yourself as he drives away from your building , and you let out a little giggle as excitement starts to course through your body. That tingly sensation is back as you type your next text:

Charles: I’m on my way x

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x you #f1 x you

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thelastairsimblr · 2 months

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Family Pack #4

I’m happy to share some sims with you all today! In this post, you’ll find 12 households (40 sims total), each with their own stories and biographies. All of these sims have additional Everyday outfits, skills, bonus traits, Likes and Dislikes, sexual orientations, pronouns, family dynamics, and Lifestyles. You can find them all on the gallery under my Origin ID: TheLastAirSimmer or in the tray files linked under the cut! As always, feel free to tag me if you end up using them.

Abreu

A respected food critic, Maria’s opinion is highly valued by all as the towns’ baked good connoisseur. Her husband Joaquin, a renowned pianist, is no exception; he worships the ground she walks on. Together, they project their creative outlooks onto their sons. Santiago, the eldest and a romantic, has the full support of his parents and wants to become a professional wedding photographer. Even though young Rémy feels he didn’t inherit his parents’ imagination, he still wants to make them proud.

Naval

Aparna owned her own restaurant while raising her two girls alone. Hema was able to help out when she was old enough, allowing Aparna to find success and receive critical acclaim by publishing her own cookbook. Today, Hema is focusing on her engineering studies while trying to find love; she’s very smart and sincere, but a bit naive. Ridhi is chasing a riskier path; she wants to be a famous musician. And while Aparna hopes that this is just a phase, she supports her youngest daughter anyway.

Monaghan

As young parents, Stefan and Marianne sacrificed a lot. Stefan became a cop to support his family, but still gets caught up trying to relive his youth from time to time. Marianne longs for the day that she can quit her job at the local diner and become a singer. Soren feels pressure to please his parents, but really just want to play videogames all day while Tatum and Aria constantly bicker, not at all concerned with their parents’ feelings or the wellbeing of Hunter, who just wants attention.

Larson

Quite the jazz singer in his day, Clive is desperate to find ways to stay relevant in the ever-changing music scene. Fiona, longing for the authentic soul who serenaded her years ago, knows she can inspire him again; she’s stood by him through a lot. But until then, you can find the melancholy art critic drinking to yesteryear at the bar. Jade dropped out of college to pursue a career in social media (much to Fiona’s discontent) while Candice is following the artistic path her parents paved.

Agawa

Ever the class clown, Yuto knew that he had a knack for entertaining people. This was only confirmed after he went viral on Social Bunny for the first time! When he told his parents that he wanted to pursue a life in the public eye, they saw it as further evidence that he couldn’t take anything seriously. He makes a decent living streaming video games and his eccentric personality is pure internet gold. Though to be fair, he should probably be a bit cautious with what he says and does online.

Hollifield

As a teen, Whitney’s future looked bright. But she forfeited a lot of opportunities to pursue a whirlwind romance with a boy who had a dangerous edge. They were happy for a time, but it didn’t last and the only thing she kept from that relationship was her daughter Emma. She now works a lowly job in fast food while taking classes at Britechester, hoping to find a career in social media. Her days are busier as a working single mom, but Emma keeps herself entertained by befriending her neighbors.

Catton

Following the loss of her son to avoidable circumstances, Dottie found herself in the care of his two children. Filled with regret for not doing more for her son, the college professor watches the kids like a hawk! She’s keen on using her connections to better their lives. Temperamental Owen does well to make her proud with his grades, but he has an artsy side that he only shares with those closest to him. His little sister Bonnie would rather spend time making friends than studying though.

Qian

After founding a groundbreaking app, Shirong found a place among the company of the rich and powerful. His charming wife Meifing, quite the schmoozer at elite parties, is constantly looking for funding for her next big venture (while also being the go-to-girl for all the neighborhood gossip). Nuo chose to move home after grad school to save money, but is ready to leave and start her own law firm. Her younger brother Haoyu adds to her restlessness by barraging her with his antics.

Sullivan

Atticus’ dad Clifford, a retired veteran, supported his sons’ musical dreams fully, having raised him alone after his wife died. While roaming the world, Atticus met Elisa; a fashion guru with a fiery disposition. The pair had three children and Clifford moved in to help with the newborn. Like her dad, Lydia also wants to be an artist (whether if it’s for her love for acting or a desire to be in the spotlight remains to be seen) while Malicia, afraid of being unseen, finds relief in her friends.

Kingsley-Ramirez

Jaime and Paxton met/moved in together before they could actually get to know each other, both having been new to the city at the time with zero connections. They found themselves compatible not only as roommates, but eventually boyfriends as well! Jaime always puts others before himself; it shows in the passion he has for social justice causes he advocates for. Meanwhile, Pax works a parttime job at a small coffee shop, but is intent on putting himself through school to become a veterinarian.

Tanaka-Murdock

Nigel and Shannon met at Foxbury and developed feelings for each other during study sessions. Though Nigel was the only one to graduate, he admires Shannon for making the decision that was right for her. He enjoys being the breadwinner while Shannon follows her artistic instincts, though he wishes he had his wife’s free spirit. Shannon is quite hard on herself and works tirelessly until she makes something she’s proud of while their son Kason, while a quick learner, really just wants to play.

Miyake

Even if he’s never been the most social person, Kenzo is a loyal and fierce friend to those lucky enough to make it into his circle. A patron of the sciences, he cares deeply about precision and perfection. However, when it comes to raising his son Akira, he wants the boy to follow his own path, even if it’s not exactly the one he would choose for himself. Akira seems to be doing just that; far more sociable than his father, he never fails to leave a lasting impression on anyone he meets.

#the sims 4 #TS4 #sims 4 #sims 4 cc free #sims dump #sim dump #sims 4 vanilla #family dump

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inkyquince · 8 months

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cw. Baby trapping. Ranging from dub to noncon. Somnophilia, desperation versus spite. Pseudoincest because Morgan is Morgan.

Characters. Kylar, Avery, Harper, Morgan, Bailey, Whitney, Remy.

Baby traps you out of desperation:

Kylar. You can't leave him now, not ever! Not when you two are forever joined with the life growing inside of you. Would prick holes in the condoms you tell him to use, or just smears his own fingers with cum before fingering you greedily. Even crushes up fertility pills and puts them in your drink, watching you drink it down with wet, staring eyes. You wouldn't be allowed near anyone else the moment it's confirmed you're carrying his kid.

Avery. If you're leaving him before he leaves you. Leaving the town for university, leaving him for someone better off, or for love. You let him down easy, with a soft smile, and thank him for all the years of help. Help. What he had done for you reached beyond help. He was your saviour from god knows what. Anger burns in his veins but he just breathes low and even before asking if you want to have one last evening, just like the old times. How could you say no? You should have said no. You think it'll just be slow, soft, goodbye sex but the moment the handcuffs come out, you realise it won't be. In the hot tub, on the bed, against the balcony railing, Avery drills into you, slamming in deep with every thrust. You should have known to try and run when you reminded him of the condoms in his back pocket and he took them out just to throw them in the bin right in front of you. Cums deep inside of you every time, groaning into your neck. Dawn slips in through the curtains and Avery lights another cigarette before looking at your spent body next to him. Do you think your had any future now, with anyone or anything else, when swollen with a child?

Harper. You were going to be released. After so much time together at the asylum, you'd leave the intimate nest that kept you close to him at all times. He had been so blind to every thing other than his work, his work and you, that he hadn't realised that the time for you to go had arrived. Just one last night together. So he creeps to your room, just to watch you sleep a bit. Just that. Just watching. He always likes you like this, unaware and soft. He watches, soft, until he can't watch anymore. No more mandatory therapy. No more check ups. No more washing you in the shower, soapy fingers slipping between your thighs. Harper could make it mandatory, but who would make you go? What could force you to keep coming to him, to his office, to his embrace? Well, it's obvious. It's the time of your life that would be the most closely monitored with doctor's visits and check ups. He doesn't even take his shirt off, just shuck his trousers down to his thighs and climbs on top of you. Doesn't matter if you wake up. His desperate rutting into you, making sure to cum deep inside, the thoughtless need of it all, it doesn't feel like a disgusting act of violence, but tastes like the honeymoon night, with the only person for him.

Morgan. He always wanted grandkids. He loves grandkids. Seeing his baby round with life, and knowing it'll tie them to their papa for the rest of their life filled him with blind euphoria. No one could ever take you away from him, not like everyone from his wife, to the town had tried. You were his baby... He just had missed you so much. Doesn't help that you seemed so lonely at times, asking him to go to see your friends and go to your part time job. After all, he was the one insisting on home schooling and special cuddles since he made enough for the both of you. You needed to be home. You could have your baby for company, the same way he had his own for company. "Let daddy make you happy." He whispers to you, even as you act out. He just wants you to be happy. His baby deserves it all, his cock, his seed, your own bundle of joy.

Baby traps you out of spite:

Bailey. Maybe you ran your mouth just a bit too much that day. Maybe he was sick of your love sick puppies coming to the door and whine for some time with you. Maybe he just happened to grit his teeth to the point of pain as one of his brats sat before him, belly swollen as their baby daddy sat next to them, making plans to take them off his hands and live full time with them instead. Another source of income cut off. Maybe it was because you were his best earner and god knows if you fucking used protection. It didn't matter. What mattered is that, despite your pleas, he wasn't going to pull out. Slamming deep inside of you, hissing under his breath that you'd never be able to leave with any of your little boyfriends, not when another man's child grew in your belly. Later he might regret snapping like that, now that you had his brat. He might. Or he leans against your door frame, staring as you slept, shirt riding up to show the subtle bump of something growing inside of you.

Avery. But this time, if you're being bad. You ghosted him, you spurned him, you ran around with everyone in town without sparing a thought for the man that handed over enough money for you to thrive amongst Bailey's brats. Perhaps his snaps when he sees you flirting with one of his superiors, or that stupid kid you ran around with. Perhaps he waits outside the pub, smoking his imported cigarettes down to the filters until you appear, tipsy and looking like a whore. It doesn't take much to force you into the back of his car, ripping at your shirt to force it up, over your head to force your arms up, restraining you. You were his first. You were the one that was so perfect on every date before this rebellious streak. You've humiliated him. So there's nothing he'd want more than to return the favour. And when you're round with his child, and in need of support, he'd laugh. No one would believe you, a common street rat would have been forced to carry his child, him, a respected businessman. Doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy your hole squeezing tight around him as he roughly ruts into your poor guts.

Whitney. You dirty fucking whore. Running around with the greasy rat, the loser and the religious freak while he proclaims you as his bitch? Did the collar, did the tattoo, did your sore hole mean fucking nothing? So he corners you in the bathroom, snickering with his friends as he boxes you into the stall and begins to undo his belt. His bitch deserved a litter if you were going to let anyone who sniffed around you fuck you. Also it's just funny. The way the teachers would look at you with disappointment, the way your other dogs would stop sniffing around you. The way your uniform won't fit you at all in just a few months. Whitney still can't decide if he should show you off, the knocked up slut all for him, or to make you beg for him to keep you around. After all, the way you squealed and kicked on his cock, even now had him fucking dizzy.

Remy. Of course it made perfect sense. What sort of cow produces even more milk? One swollen with a calf. It helps that the idea occured to him after you made your latest successful escape attempt and Wren was the one to return you to your proper place in life. It's hard to run with a swollen belly, and milky tits. Maybe it would even endear him to you, snuffling into his hand, wanting some attention since your stupid, empty brain thought of him as master and as mate. So, with you struggling and huffing in your breeding bench, Remy sends everyone else out. He should just use some of the semen that the bulls deposited earlier, but why should he? Not when you were his favourite for so long, licking his fingers clean when the juices from the apple stained his skin. The one he looked forward to seeing the most. The one he fisted his cock to, imagining the way you'd keen and whine with his cock rutting into you and filling you up with his own milk. He could also prepare a room for your calf to live in, just so you'd paw at him to let you see his only heir, the one to inherit it all, even if they did have soft cow eyes and spotted, velvety ears.

#dol #quincewrites #degrees of lewdity #nsft #kylar the loner #avery the businessperson #harper the doctor #morgan the sewer dweller #bailey the caretaker #whitney the bully #remy the farmer

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strawberryspence · 1 year

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Because I am obsessed with the famous trope here’s another one that kept me up all night.

Steve and Eddie dated right after Vecna in ‘86 and it’s perfect. They date each other and it’s like two puzzles clicking together. But they’re young, foolish and they both have mountains of trauma. And sometimes, the passion and love, just isn’t enough to keep a relationship going.

They have a messy break up that has Eddie packing all his stuff up in ‘88. Eddie goes to LA or New York, either way that’s where he gets discovered. He then goes on to write some very angsty and angry rock/metal music about the break-up that gets him up on the map.

Steve hates it. He hates it with every fibre of his soul because it’s one thing when you and you ex still have the same friends and have to be civil with each other, but it’s a whole other thing when you open the radio and this man you dated, this man you loved and cared for and failed is just out here singing it for the whole world to hear.

And yeah listen, it’s petty and dumb. But Steve writes his own fucking songs, it’s not the direct response to Eddie’s song but it’s close. By that time it’s already ‘90 and Eddie’s made a whole name and career out of their relationship. Steve writes the songs, he sings, and he sends the damn demo to almost fifty different companies. And he gets picked up by one company.

Steve takes the pop star route, and with his looks and his somehow amazing vocals, by ‘94 Steve’s on the charts with Whitney and Mariah. The whole Party has solemnly promised to not get involved with their petty songwriting fighting anymore. They also haven’t spoken in person in almost six years, and the only way they communicate now is through the freaking songs.

There’s not a lot of overlap with the rock and pop community, and no one notices it until ‘05. It’s one fan that makes this one blog post talking about this weird freaky coincidence in Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson’s songs. It becomes a whole thing, like someone from Hawkins pulls out the yearbooks and finds out that they could’ve known each other. Their faces are splashed together into every magazine and celebrity entertainment shows.

They don’t say anything about it. No one comments about it for a few years and it infuriates the public even more. The next time Steve comes out with a song, Eddie comes out with another song a few months after and it’s once again a literal conversation about their relationship.

The whole thing continues until ‘11 and by then there’s blog dedicated for all the clues. It’s now a long running thread, and it gets updated when there’s another clue to this massive confusing puzzle. There’s a whole subsection with names of every Party member and how they connect the two artists together. There’s freaking flow charts and pictures and family trees.

It only ends when Eddie finally posts two pictures on Twitter. The first one is taken backstage. All you can see is Steve’s back, but you will know it’s him because of his hair. He’s standing at the side of the stage, and on the stage is Eddie Munson singing. The second one is a picture of Eddie sitting in a couch as Steve looms over him, hands crossed on his chest. Eddie’s signing his own album with a smirk, while Steve glares at him. If you zoom, you can see the sign on the album saying, “To Steve. This album is for you.”

The caption says: “Me and my biggest fan. Circa 2004.”

Steve replies to the original post saying: “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Eddie deletes the post and reposts it with: “Me and my wonderful, gorgeous, talented husband. I can’t believe I am married to THE Steve Harrington.”

It’s the first time the term “break the internet” is ever used.

Turns out, they were just writing the songs to spite each other and to add fuel to the fandom fire. (In an interview, Eddie says, “It’s our foreplay.” and Steve doesn’t talk to him for a solid 30 minutes for running his mouth. It only lasts for 30 minutes because Eddie made it up to him by using his mouth for something else.)

#HA #i love famous steddie #theyre so petty #also dont come for me #i dont know where the ‘break the internet’ term came from #so dont get mad #anw #i love them #steddie #daeheadcanons #steve harrington x eddie munson angst #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddie headcanon #steddie hc #famous steve harrington #famous eddie munson

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therogerclarkfanclub · 1 year

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ROGER CLARK as Captain Weir in:

BBC's The Wild West (2007) Season 1, Episode 1: "Custer's Last Stand"

⭐ Watch Custer's Last Stand on Dailymotion. ⭐

(GIF Set 2/6)

#roger clark #the wild west #custer's last stand #stephen billington #nigel whitney #bbc #general custer #westerns #us history #documentaries #george armstrong custer #battle of the little bighorn #roger's filmography #roger's tv shows #irish actors #lakota nation #historical events

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annaxbree · 22 days

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talk back.

nate doe x reader

summary: the triplets introduce their two best friends to each other at a party, with hopes that the two would get along well. when the two meet each other on their own, however, they find that they don't appreciate the other's need to talk back.

warnings: very suggestive, heavy making out but nothing more than that, cursing, mentions of alcohol

“his name is nate, right?” i asked as we walked into the party.

“yeah, and he’s a fun kid to be around. i think you’ll get along really well” matt spoke.

“yeah, i hope so. y’all talk about the man like he can walk on water or something” i answered.

i followed the triplets through the house, stopping when i spotted a table full of drinks.

“wait, hold on. i’m gonna grab a drink, i’ll be back” i told them before hurrying towards the table.

i didn’t usually drink often, but if i was going to be anywhere but my bed tonight, i was at least going to have fun doing it.

“hmm, what should i even drink?” i asked myself, eyes bouncing from bottle to bottle indecisively.

“pink whitney for sure” came a voice from across the table.

“oh, really ? is it good?” i asked, scanning the table for the name.

“i was kidding” he deadpanned, “i don’t think you want any of that stuff”

“i know” i scoffed, trying to play off my cluelessness, “obviously you were joking”

he raised his eyebrows at me, a slight smirk pulling onto his face.

“you sure you don’t want iced tea instead ?" he asked, taunting me.

“shut the hell up” i answered, going back to reading the names of the different bottles.

“i’ll just have..” i trailed off, having no clue what to pick, “a wine cooler” i decided, grabbing the closest bottle to me.

he grabbed my hand, removing the bottle from it and placing it down on the table.

“here” he spoke, grabbing a solo cup and pouring iced tea in it.

“i don’t want that, what if you’re trying to poison me or something?”

“you literally just watched me pour it” he quipped back.

“i still don’t trust some nameless stranger who i met a minute ago to pour my drink for me”

“i do have a name, you just never asked it” he answered.

“are you always this annoying?” i asked.

“are you always this clueless?” he replied.

i let out a sigh, “ this is giving me a headache, i’m going” i spoke as i started to walk away.

“so you’re just gonna waste a perfectly good cup of iced tea?” he asked.

i made my way around the table, standing in front of him.

“i never asked for your stupid iced tea” i glared at him.

“you asked what you should drink, i was just trying to help”

“i was asking myself, not you. maybe learn not to weigh in on other people’s conversations” i spoke.

“you always walk around having conversations with yourself?”

it was obvious that he was enjoying seeing how worked up he could make me, and it was only annoying me more.

“you’re infuriating”

“nobody’s forcing you to keep talking to me” he pointed out.

“i think you like it” he spoke, getting closer to me.

with each step he took forward, i took one backwards. that is, until i was backed into the table.

“you could’ve walked away, but you didn’t” he said.

the most annoying part about this was that he was right. i could chalk it up to wanting to have the last word, but it was more than that.

i didn’t want to walk away from him, and maybe that’s the part that angered me.

“what’s wrong, princess? nothing to say?” he asked, tilting his head at me.

i took notice of the little space left between us, wanting nothing more than to pull his lips to mine.

“oh, i have something to say, just don’t think you’re ready to hear it”

“humor me” he spoke, that stupid smirk never leaving his face.

“you’re a cocky asshole”

“that’s it?”

“that’s it.”

“you’re not very good at flirting, baby” he spoke.

“considering the fact that i’m not flirting, i find that relieving”

“you just love talking back, huh?”

“if you have a problem with it then do something about it” i answered.

he let out a dry chuckle at this, “ i-” he started to say something but was cut off by the voice of chris.

“nate! we’ve been looking for you, man!” at the words, he instantly backed away from me.

my face instantly dropped at that, “nate?” i spoke out loud.

“in the flesh” he spoke.

this dude is nate ?

the same nate that the triplets speak so highly of ?

the nice guy that i’m sure to get along with ?

“oh you guys have met already?” nick asked, looking between us.

“sure have” nate spoke, enjoying the distraught look on my face.

“cool, so you guys wanna go play uno?”

“sounds good to me” he said.

“y/n ? that cool with you?”

“yeah, sure. let me just use the bathroom first” i answered, receiving nods in response.

i started to walk away, stopping when i realized that i had no clue where the bathroom was.

“um, where is the bathroom?” i asked, quickly receiving an answer from nate, “i’ll show you”

before i could say anything he began to walk in the direction of the bathroom.

“ok” i whispered to myself, quickly following behind him.

when we got to the bathroom, i quickly walked past him into the small room, not giving him a chance to come up with a snide comment.

when i opened the door after finishing, i was met with nate, still standing there.

“why are you still here?” i asked.

“didn’t want you to get lost on the way back” he answered.

“that’s not why”

“it is”

“no, it’s not”

“how would you know?” he challenged.

“fine, let’s go then” i raised my eyebrows at him, willing him to move out of my way.

“no” he spoke, his arms caging me in.

“why?”

instead of answering me, he grabbed my arm, pulling me into the bathroom.

he pushed me up against the door, closing the distance between us, stopping right before our lips could meet.

we stayed like that for a minute, staring at each other’s lips unmovingly.

“you ever gonna kiss me? or are we-” i was cut off by the feeling of his lips pressed against mine.

i instantly melted into the kiss, while his hands wrapped around my waist.

his body pressed mine into the door, while heavy breaths passed through our parted lips.

the light stubble that decorated his face tickled mine, scratching against the hand that i brought up to cup his jaw.

his jawline. so sharp, i could barely believe he was real.

i tilted my head, deepening the kiss, letting out small moans into his lips.

the scent of his cologne filled my nostrils, my senses being overtaken by him.

his lips were so soft and warm, they were perfect for kissing.

i hated it.

now that i knew what it felt like to have his lips against mine, i’d never want to stop kissing him.

if i thought it was hard to resist him before, i was going to have a hell of a time attempting it after this.

while i loved the feeling of his lips on mine, it also scared me.

fifteen minutes ago i didn’t know the dude’s name, now i was making out with him in some random person’s bathroom ?

every decision i had made tonight was uncharacteristically wild of me.

what was this guy doing to me?

i was pulled out of my thoughts when nate let out a groan into my mouth, a reaction to my fingers subconsciously tugging at his hair.

he squeezed my waist, seemingly hesitant to move his hands any further than my hips.

i took his hands in mine, moving them to my ass, “you can touch me, nate” i whispered to him.

as soon as i gave him permission, he began to grope my ass, my dress riding up slightly with his movements.

he pulled his lips from mine, nuzzling his nose against the crook of my neck.

“y’know for someone who wasn’t flirting with me earlier, you sure do seem excited” he spoke, his lips tickling my skin.

“you’re the one who pulled me in here” i reminded him.

“so you don’t want this?” he asked, pulling away slightly.

“i didn’t say that, nate” i spoke, rolling my eyes at him.

“so fucking quick to talk back” he mumbled, fingers digging into my ass even harder.

“i think you need to learn when to shut that pretty mouth of yours”

“i think you’ll need to teach me” i spoke back without missing a beat.

with that, he pushed me into the door again, bringing his lips to my neck.

he pulled the skin between his teeth lightly, leaving marks as he trailed up my neck, stopping when i let out a groan.

once he found my sweet spot, he was relentless, licking and nipping at the skin.

“nate” i moaned out, head falling backwards into the door.

his hand traveled to my thigh, creeping under my dress and moving closer and closer to my center.

suddenly, a loud banging on the door made us flinch apart.

“fuck” i breathed out, attempting to catch my breath.

“be right out!” nate yelled in response to the banging.

before either of us could say anything, i felt my phone vibrate against me.

i quickly pulled the device out of my pocket, causing nate to speak up, “that dress has pockets?”

i looked at him in disbelief, “ why does that matter right now?”

he shrugged, “ just trying to lighten the mood a little bit”

“well, you’re not doing a very good job” i answered before glancing down at my phone.

“shit” i spoke as i read the text.

nickkk 🗣️

girl where did you go ??

please tell me you didn’t go and fuck nate.

shit, you definitely did.

i knew something was up with you two.

BAD Y/N.

you’ve know each other for less than an hour😭

“what?” nate asked, looking over my shoulder to read the texts.

y/n ⭐️

not u assuming the worst in me tf

we did NOT fuck

i’ll explain later but we’re coming back now

i tuned back to nate, “this didn’t happen, ok? it’s not going to happen again, ever. got it ?”

“whatever you say, princess” he answered before moving to open the door.

“after you” he smiled sarcastically, holding it open for me.

i rolled my eyes at his antics before beginning to walk past him, only to be stopped by him.

“roll your eyes at me like that again and i promise i’ll fuck you until you can’t keep them open” he whispered before walking away, leaving me standing there in shock.

tag list: @sturniolosmind @endereies @hearts4chriss @patscorner

a/n: hiii, welcome to our shared acc 🤗

- anna + bree 💜

#nate doe #nathan doe #nate doe imagine #nate doe fic #nathan doe imagine #nate doe x reader #nate doe x you #nathan doe x reader #nathan doe x you #nathan doe fic #nate doe fanfic #nathan doe fanfic

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amysteryspot · 1 year

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I Will Always Love You | B.B.

Summary: Bradley has no one to release him at his tapping out ceremony.

Warnings: female reader; use of (Y/N); reader has a big family; mentions of Bradley having no family left after Carole's death, mentions of the fight between Bradley and Maverick; breakup; kinda off a happy ending;

Word Count: 1023

A/N: This was written for the @roosterforme's fic challenge #love is in the air tgm. It was inspired by the song "I Will Always Love You" by Whitney Houston. I had so much fun writing it and I hope you all enjoy it.

They were meant to be. That’s what everyone said to them after they got together. It seemed like their friends had been waiting for the news already. (Y/N) and Bradley were so in sync with each other that it was obvious to everyone but them how perfect they worked together.

Her family welcomed him with open arms, which was a blessing. Bradley had little to no family he still had contact with after his mother’s passing and his fall off with his godfather. (Y/N) was the second eldest of five siblings, not to mention all of the cousins. They all loved him. She always told Bradley that he was easy to love.

In times like these, Bradley felt the loss of his mother the most. He was sure that Carole would have loved (Y/N) just as much as she had loved him.

They were meant to be… until they weren’t.

Coming from a big family, all (Y/N) wanted was a good job that could get her out of her parents home. Bradley understood that, after all, he was only in college as a way to get in the Navy, like he always dreamt. Everything was doing fine until their graduation.

“You’ve been strange since yesterday.” Bradley said, loosening his arms from around (Y/N) that was sitting beside him.

She sighed, turning around to look him in the eyes.

“I’ve received a proposal.”

Bradley blinked a couple of times, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“To go to London.”

The breath got caught in his throat as he looked at the woman he loved and wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

“London?” He asks.

“Yes.” She confirms. “The office needs someone there and since I just graduated they thought it would be a great opportunity to start this new phase.”

The tension in the room was thick. Neither of them expected to have this conversation so soon. Bradley thought that they would at least have a couple of months to spare.

“You should go.” He finally said after what felt like hours of silence.

“Brad…”

He cuts her off before she can get another word in.

“It’s a great opportunity for you to start your career and…”

Her soft lips are on his and for a moment everything feels right. The kiss lasts only a couple of seconds, but it is enough to dissolve some of the tension, leaving place for sadness to set in.

“We have to talk.” She said.

“There’s nothing to talk about. You have to take this opportunity, you don’t know if you’ll get another.”

“I know.”

Simple as that. No buts, no questions. They both just knew.

“When do you leave?” He asks, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“I don’t know.” She answers, voice breaking.

That’s when the first tears start to fall. Bradley pulls her to him, snuggling themselves together, trying to get as close as they could to forget the storm above their heads.

“We will find a way.” He mumbles against her hair. “Everything will be okay.”

Maybe it wasn’t meant to be, after all.

Bradley had a month to prepare for the academy, (Y/N) was given the same time to prepare for her trip, so they both decided that they would make the most of the little time they had together. It was one of the hardest things he had to do in his life.

After too much talk, the both of them decided that ending their relationship to focus on their careers would be the best decision for both of them. They would be too busy with their jobs to be able to maintain a long distance relationship, so it seemed like the logical decision to make.

They agreed not to have an airport goodbye. (Y/N)’s family took her from Bradley’s place, but he didn’t go. Their goodbye was just their own.

And just like that, Bradley was alone again. He and (Y/N) parted as friends, her family still talked to him almost daily, but how do you stay friends with someone you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with?

With time he stopped answering her, it didn’t take long for her to stop trying to reach out and that’s how he ended up here, standing alone at his tapping out ceremony, with nobody to relieve him.

Until someone tapped him on the shoulder.

Bradley turned around to meet (Y/N) standing there as beautiful as the last time she woke up by his side. He was quick to engulf her in a hug and, before thinking, kissing her.

She tasted like cinnamon and coffee. It was so familiar and yet so strange. When they separated, he was quick to apologize.

“I’m sorry.” He started, embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I…”

The words got lost between their lips once she kissed him again.

“Congratulations, soldier.” She mumbled against his lips. “Or should I say sailor?”

Bradley smiles, relinquishing the feeling of her hands caressing his face.

“Soon to be pilot.” He answers, opening his eyes to look at her.

“Well, soon-to-be-pilot, there’s more people here that want to see you.”

She turns around in his arms, making way for him to see her family cheering at him.

“Why is everybody here?” He laughed.

“Are you kidding me?” She asked, smiling. “There was no talking them out of coming to see their favorite member of the family become a soon-to-be-pilot.”

He frowned, unsure of how to react.

“You’re easy to love, Bradley Bradshaw. I’ll always love you and so will they.”

She kissed him again, taking him out of his head a little, before nudging him to go celebrate with her family—their family.

“Common, before they say that I want you all to myself.” She said, taking his hand and adding, “Which is true.”

Bradley smiled, “Later.” He promised. “You can have me all to yourself later.”

And that promise was enough to put both their hearts at ease. Even if they had only tonight, Bradley knew that a part of them would always belong to each other.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #top gun: maverick fanfic #mystery writings #amysteryspot #love is in the air tgm

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y3ager · 10 months

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WE OUTSIDE.

— a night you initially weren’t looking forward to ends in the best way imaginable.

eren y. x black!fem!reader

tags: high school au, modern au, marijuana and alcohol use, unprotected sex, oral sex (fem receiving), mild cream pie. minors dni.

DESPITE HOW YOU refused it for months, here you stand in a mansion someone had the money and connections to reserve holding the worst position anyone can have on graduation night: designated driver.

you’re the coveted mom friend, the only one in the group with a level enough head and fear of, you know, dying to make sure you and your girls don’t end up on the morning news the following day. after weeks of promising that they wouldn’t be back home after walking across stage, here they all are enjoying one last night of partying before they all go their separate ways, to different universities and states, some of them never seeing each other again.

obviously you’re not one to knock someone else’s fun, but it’s just not your thing and you knew that with the first party you snuck out to. it’s loud, crowded, and smacking the ass of your friend or fighting your way to the front for a good view of it is only fun for the first 20 or so minutes. it’s three am and no one shows signs of stopping.

you nurse your cocktail of lemonade with a dash of pink whitney because it helps to have something in your hand. you stay off towards the back and hug the wall, watching your peers have fun and dreading when you inevitably have to shove 7 shitfaced girls into one car. three are horny drunks, one does nothing but cry by the end of the night, one more tends to get punchy…

you feel a solid body bump against yours and lurch forward a bit. “sorry!” you shout, but with the bass of the music and everyone’s yelling, they probably don’t even hear you.

“no, you’re fine..” all of a sudden you smell nothing but weed, enough to make your nose wrinkle a bit. he brandishes his blunt to you, obviously inviting you take a hit. that’s what all these parties are, people swapping blunts and taking sips out of bottles and repurposed polar pop cups.

“no, um, i’m good..” your better judgement starts to kick in, even though you’re probably the only person in the entire house using some right about now. it could be filled with god knows what, what if your job springs up a surprise drug test, you’re not supposed to take anything from a damn stranger!

a little voice in the very back of your head reminds you that this is your problem: playing it safe, keeping your head down, abstaining from doing anything even mildly reckless.

you reach your hand up and pluck the glowing blunt from the strange boy’s slender fingers and pop it between your glossed lips. a quick toke fills your lungs, streams out from your nose and makes you give out a quick cough. “thank you,” you say dumbly, honestly, as you pass it back to him. who the fuck says thank you after that? “sorry for the, uh.. gloss.”

“you’re fine,” he says again, popping the joint right back into his mouth, coconut flavored gloss from the beauty supply store be damned. you finally get a chance to really look at him, the flashing strobe lights momentarily illuminating his face. tanned skin, green eyes tinted just a smidge red, and dark brown hair pulled back into a bun, a light sheen of sweat making the baby hairs stick to his forehead. he nods to your cup. “what’s that?”

“that.. oh! oh.” you look down at your cup, suddenly feeling awkward for staring so intently. “lemonade with.. uh.. pink whitney.” you realize how close he is to you, nudged forward by the many bodies and his interest in what you’re saying, and it makes you sweat. “do you want some?” looking back up, you hold the cup out to him. “it’s not that strong, i have to drive later…”

he shakes his head and chuckles lowly, pushing the drink back into your bubble. “keep it.” he looks down at you, taking in your brown eyes framed by your freshly done lash extensions, accented with a thin strip of one of your school’s colors, your cropped shirt and skin tight biker shorts, comfortable but exposing a lot of your gleaming brown skin. “designated driver, huh? your friends sound mean dumping you with that job. you having fun?”

you shrug, heating up even more under his hungry gaze. he’s so fine, if you look fast enough, a tongue ring is getting caught by the flashing lights when he opens his mouth to speak. “it’s okay, i don’t like getting shit faced, and, you know…” you look off to your left to see that four of your friends have successfully made it onto the stage. “it’s fun watching them have fun.” when you look back at him, he’s holding his blunt back out, and you take it again without even being told to. “thank you.” you blow out another cloud of smoke and pass it back to him. “it could.. be a little quieter, i guess?” another body passing through makes you lurch forward. “with less people?”

he laughs again and holds his joint between his teeth. “you wanna leave then?”

your inner mom comes back out again, and you look to your left, scanning for your friends. you’re supposed to stick together, you have to keep an eye out on them, they’re all supposed to know where everyone is in case anything crazy pops off. “i.. i shouldn’t leave my friends…” you shuffle unsurely on your feet, “i don’t know.”

“text them,” he offers. then he points off into the general direction when he assumes they’re at, based on where you’re looking. “or go tell one of them. we’re just going up to a room upstairs. they’ll be okay, and you’ll be okay. we’ll come back down when you’re ready.”

fuck it. you think. you whip your phone out of your purse and type up a quick message in the groupchat that they probably won’t check, but at least you told them. ‘going upstairs for a bit’ “okay,” you say as it sends. “let’s go.”

thirty minutes later, the blunt is completely gone and the stranger—no, eren’s tongue is deep in your mouth, working against yours while his hand holds your face firmly in place. your manicured hands have pulled his hair out of its haphazard bun with all your tugging and pulling and you’re doing everything you can to hide your wanton moans. he’s just such a good kisser…

eren pulls away slightly to look down into your glazed over eyes, the sound of your blood rushing and your heart pounding rivaling the sound of the music booming downstairs. “pretty girl,” he mumbles. your kissing has long left your gloss awry, and he rubs an errant mark away from the corner of your mouth with his thumb. “feelin’ good?”

“yeah,” you whisper breathlessly, his kiss swollen lips calling you back in and he laughs as your mouth meets his again. either he pushes you down into some stranger’s bed, or you pull him on top of you, but now you’re on your back and he’s looking down at you, with one hand trailing down, down, down…

and you’re doing nothing to stop him.

deftly, eren pulls off your biker shorts, and catches your thigh before you can instinctively close them off from his sight. “so fucking wet already…” he remarks as he pulls your panties down until they eventually fall down to your ankles. you kick them off, and brazenly, boldly, spread your brown lips for him, the white of your long french tip acrylics a beautiful contrast to your chestnut skin and perfect pink center.

“fuck, ___,” eren groans, mouth almost watering at the sight. he wants to devour you so bad. “you’re trying to kill me. you were so shy earlier. that changes when you wanna get fucked, huh?” your whimper at his last comment makes him grin. “now hold these up.” he commands, reference your legs as he pushes your knees up to your chest, prostrating yourself before him for his perusal. he’s laying down now, his aching crotch now rubbing against the bed in a welcome wave of pleasure.

the noises eren begins to make on your pussy are downright pornographic, the spitting, smacking, slurping, feasting on your drooling cunt as if it’s his last meal. his tongue is everywhere, going from swirling your clit around to dragging against your inner lips, that damned tongue ring never far behind. it’s nearly too much for your poor cunt, but the focused glare he gives you with his blown out green eyes deters you from bringing your legs down and diminishing the access he has to you.

“e-eren! oh, god!” the sound of your wetness makes your ears burn in embarrassment, it’s just so fucking messy. you catch a sight of the mess you’ve made on his chin when he momentarily comes up for air, only to dive right back in. his plump, pillowy lips latch firmly on your throbbing clit, making your eyes roll back into your head and a shaky moan escape your own lips. “eren, please..!” you writhe against the sheets, his expert mouth overwhelming, you’re not a virgin but, god, if he keeps up.. “e-eren, eren, i’m…!”

“c’mon, baby,” he mumbles between suckling, open mouthed kisses, and drags of his skillful tongue. “give it t’ me, don’t be scared. i gotcha.”

his words make your greedy hole pulse around nothing, and a mix of a moan and a week sob escapes your throat. thighs spasming, you pointlessly attempt to close your legs again only for him to continue holding them open as he drowns your cunt in sloppy kisses, determined to savor every last drop.

“good girl,” his sinful voice rumbles against your core. “good, good fucking girl…” as he pulls away, that tongue darts out to sweep up the last remnants of your heavenly juices. “c’mere..” those strong hands grab at you hips pulling your pliant body towards him near the edge of the bed. “y’ready?”

“yeah, yeah…” emotions flood through your head, lust, need, want, you’re ready to beg for him inside you if he wants you to. faintly, you hear the sound of clothing hitting the floor, but that’s the least of your worries right now. “‘ren, please..” he taps his leaking, blushing tip against your pulsing clit one, two, three times to make you sigh. “please, please..”

“y’doin’ all that beggin’…” now eren’s easing in, hissing at the feeling of you gripping him so tight, walls soft and wet. he throws his head back at the new sensation of your cunt greedily sucking him in, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows and his tanned fingers tightening in a bruising grip on your hips. “fuck,” he groans under his breath, the underlying whine in his voice makes your body grow hot. “fucking- relax, or-”

“oh, g-god..” you stutter, feeling full, and hot, and greedy. “‘s so.. big, eren.” your manicured hand rests against his toned torso in a fruitless attempt to stop him, but his hips meet yours and the two of you whine in unison. “fuck!”

“quit that. take it.” eren swats your hand away from his stomach and tosses your legs up to place them on his shoulders, effectively treating you like a little doll for him to fuck on. slowly, easily, he pulls his hips back only to push them forward again, progressively beginning to get drunk off the feeling of your perfect cunt. “so fucking good,” he mutters. “so, so fucking good.”

the slow drag of his cock against your walls begins to have the same intoxicating effect on you, making you pull your bottom lip between your teeth and whine, low and wanton as you clamp down onto him. you open your eyes, which you didn’t even realize were closed, and stare deep into his green-gray eyes. oh, you’re screwed now.

“fuck yes,” he huffs. eren buries his face in your neck, biting, sucking, leaving hot kisses on your damp as he chases his high and quickly begins to bring to your second. the feeling of your acrylics clawing and digging into the skin of his back only spurs him on more, the music downstairs secondary to the dizzying sound of skin slapping against. “‘s your dick, baby, cum on it for me.”

and you do, shame be damned as your back arches off from the tousled sheets and cry out his name, letting any poor passerby know exactly what’s going on just feet away from the firmly closed door, and exactly who’s fucking you just that good. eren bottoms out with a low groan that reverberates from his chest, a breathless chuckle passing his lips as his cum shoots in deep only to spill back out when he withdraws.

“pretty girl,” he calls out, pulling you out of your fucked out daze. one hand reaches up to wipe the drool from the side of your mouth while the other rubs at your spent, used cunt. your eyes roll back down to look demurely back at his.

“you got another one in you?”

a/n: obligatory plot but this has been in the drafts since january 2022…… it’s time to release her 😭 could i have updated it from high school grad night yeah i could’ve but mannnn…. just relive them days chile

#🏙.aotmodern #❤️‍🔥.aotsmut #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager smut #eren x black reader #eren yeager x black reader #eren x black reader smut #eren yeager x black reader smut

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justmeinadaze · 11 months

Text

I Have Nothing (If I Don't Have You) (Steddie X You)

A/N: Like I said last week, I was watching the music video for "Queen of the Night" by Whitney Houston from the soundtrack of this movie and it gave me this Steddie idea.

I have a few ideas I can take this! I seriously love protective Steddie. Probably something to do with my PTSD and need to feel safe lol Anyway... I hope you enjoy it! I dedicate this to @unfocused81 <3

Warnings: No smut (yet😈) but angst for sure. Security Steddie and Singer female reader. It is mentioned that Y/N does drink excessively and do drugs. Her boyfriend is a douchebag and assaults her (mentions of smacking and grabbing her, yelling at her, and calling her names) that results in Steddie intervening. There is also a bit of a riot at one of shows that they protect her from (kind of like that scene in the movie where people jump on stage and chaos ensues).

I wouldn't really call this dark themes but reader definitely has some things going on and is struggling a lot right now.

Work count: 5906

“What kind of security work have you guys done before?”

Your manager leans against the outside of his desk as he continues to scan through the messages on his phone.

“Oh, um, we’ve done a lot before for the bar in our town and most recently a rock band in—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”, the manager cuts Steve off as he speaks. “That’s all well and good. Look, I’m going to level with you. This is essentially expensive babysitting. Y/N is a handful. Our last security detail quit when her last party at her house caused a riot in the streets of LA.”

“A riot?”, Eddie turned to his friend and raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

The guy sets his phone down, sighing with impatience. “Yes. Obviously, you two don’t read or watch the news…which is good. Saves me the headache. Now, do you want the job or not?”

Both boys glance at each other before looking towards the man again. “Um, yeah sure. I mean it pays, right?”

“That’s the spirit. Ok, she’s at the studio downstairs right now recording…or at least that’s what she’s supposed to be doing. Go introduce yourselves. Glad to have you aboard.”, he rolls his eyes as he shoos them out of his office.

“Steve are you sure about this?”, Eddie asks as they head for the elevator.

“Yeah. Come on, Munson. This is our ticket to high-rate clients and more money! We can handle one little girl.”

As soon as they get off on the right floor, they are met with extremely loud music and giggles from the studio room. A tall, lanky kid leans back in his chair extending his hand to greet both boys.

“Hey, are ya’ll the security? I’m Devon. She’s in there ‘getting inspired’.” Their eyes follow his finger as he points behind the glass where you and some of your friends were strewn around the floor. “Good luck, gentlemen.”, he sings.

Both men carefully tip toe around arms and legs to find you with your eyes closed, a half smirk painted across your lips.

“Uh, Miss Y/L/N? I’m Steve Harrington and this is Eddie Munson. We’re your new personal security guards.”

“Hmm…sounds sexy.”, you slur. Your glassy, drug fueled eyes look up to meet theirs. “At least Jack hired some good-looking ones this time. Who is who?”

“Maybe, if you stood up and actually greeted us, you would have heard who is who the first time.”, Eddie chided.

Your eyes fully open as your head tilts in his direction. No one ever had the balls to scold you like that since you became famous. It was usually “Yes ma’am” this or “Anything you want, ma’am. We’ll make it happen.”. Rising to your feet, you fully take them in through your haze.

They both were attractive especially with that air of confidence you hadn’t seen in a long time. Your current boyfriend was cocky but definitely not confident. Everyone else around you seemed so fucking timid and you hated it.

“Eddie. Steve.”, Steve repeated, pointed to his friend then himself.

He was dressed head to toe in what you would call “conventional” clothes; nothing designer or anything to make him stand out. You could tell under the button up white, short sleeve shirt that he did have muscles that could protect you physically if need be. The jeans and sneakers he donned didn’t give you any new information that could tell you something about him except he probably didn’t make a whole lot of money.

Eddie was more or less the same with a much more grunge fashion sense that, to you, he pulled off well. You pointed to his Metallica t-shirt with your finger.

“My music isn’t like theirs. It might make your ears bleed.”

“As long as I can still see you and see you’re safe, I think I’ll survive.”

He’s quick witted. I like that…

“Ok. We’ll give it a try. Tomorrow, you’ll meet me at my house and I can tell you more about what you’ll be doing.”

***

“Steven Harrington, have you read half this stuff?”, Eddie sighs as he leans forward and places his elbows on his knees as he points at things on his laptop.

“She’s been arrested twice; once for possession and another for disorderly conduct where she was found having sex with someone while she was drunk in public. The cops have been called to her house multiple times due to, honestly, take your fucking pick. Her boyfriend was arrested just last week for sucker punching one of her fans for ‘getting too close’. How are we supposed to protect someone who invites all this chaos into her life.”

“I don’t know, Ed. The same way you protect anyone I guess.”, Steve leans back on the couch as he takes a sip from his bottle of beer. “Again, this is just a steppingstone. I’m sure after a few months of handling her, any number of high value agencies will want to hire us. WHICH MEANS…”, he glances towards Eddie. “…you need to control your Dom voice.”

The metalhead chuckles as he leans back as well. “It’s going to be hard with a fucking brat like her. Dude, she didn’t even have the common courtesy to say hello.”

“I know… I know… but just, try. For me?”

#########

It takes you awhile to open the door when they knock but when you finally do, you look completely hung over.

“Yeah, come…come in. Do you want something to drink? Jack? Vodka? I have them all.”

“It’s 10am.”, Steve responds as he looks at his watch.

You raise an eyebrow at him before heading for the kitchen and grabbing the whole bottle of Jack Daniels. “If you’re boring, Eddie. Just say that.”

“Steve. I’m Steve.”

“Right now, I don’t care—”

“We can tell.”, Eddie growls.

You blink as you look up at him. You’ve never wanted to toy with a man so bad in your life. He wasn’t even trying to hide that your disrespect was bothering him and honestly you couldn’t get enough.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen. I don’t do mornings. Unfortunately, my manager insists on scheduling interviews for me that require me to up at this ungodly hour.” They watch you as you slump onto the couch and throw your arm over your eyes. “So, how much did Jack tell you?”

“Uh, just the basics. We watch out for you.”

“Good. It’s just following me around and making sure I don’t get swarmed or murdered. I’ll give you guys a key to my house before you leave today and when I stay at hotels I’ll do the same. You’ll most likely be staying in the same room as me anyway so…”

The sound of banging on your front door makes you cringe. “I guess I’ll get it.”, Eddie sighs as Steve’s eyes follow him. “Your makeup people are here, your highness.”

A big grin spreads across your face as you turn your head to look over at them. “I like him. Steven, you need to start stepping it up or he’ll become my favorite.”

The metalhead lazily glances towards his friend with playful wide eyes. “Well, lucky me.”

***

As snotty as your attitude was, they couldn’t deny how beautiful you were especially after your prep team was done putting you together. The makeup hid all damage you had done to yourself the night before and the outfit they had you in sexily showed off all your curves. Your eyes shifted to them, watching them as they looked around.

“No one is going to shoot me in here, boys.”

“Hm. You never know.”, Eddie exhales as he points to things. “Someone could come in through that back door behind you or because no one checks any of these people’s IDs, someone could sneak in pretending to be a hair stylist and take you out like that.”, he snaps his fingers.

“Bags that hold all the beauty and camera equipment are big enough to hold even a rifle let alone a handgun. That’s implying someone would want to shoot you instead of stabbing or blowing you up.”, Steve followed.

“Wow. Just charming.”

“It’s our job, Miss Y/L/N.”

“I think due to the circumstances you can call me Y/N.”, you grin.

The producer gets your attention, walking you through the questions that would be asked and how the interview would go. The boys watched you in amazement as your personality practically changed when the camera went live. No one would ever be able to tell what you did behind the scenes or any other narrative then the one you provided.

An hour later and after many questions, the interview ended and your face fell.

“God, I need a drink.”

“Can we at least go over the tour first?”, your manager whined.

“Baby!”

You excitedly got up and ran to your boyfriend’s arms. “Simon!”

Everyone in the room cringed at the heavy smacking sounds that left you two as he continued to sloppily kiss your lips.

“Who are the new guys?”

“Babe, these are the new security guys. This is Eddie and Steve.”

They stand up to shake his hand but as Steve extends his palm the man looks down at it like the gesture was beneath him. “Yeah, listen boys, hands off, okay? She’s mine.”, you giggle as he slaps your ass.

“Come on, baby. I got a surprise for you.” You squeal as he lifts you over his shoulder and carries you towards your bedroom.

“Y/N! We still have things to go over!”, Jack shouts as the door closes loudly.

#########

“I want to go home, Steven. It’s 2am and they’ve been fucking in there all god damn day. At this point we shouldn’t have a client anymore because he killed her by not giving her any food or fucking water. It definitely won’t be due to her climaxing because I haven’t heard that happen yet.”

“We can’t leave until he does.”, Steve sighs. “Or she dismisses us for the evening.”

As if on cue, Simon saunters past them into the kitchen, casually opening your fridge, and begins chugging from a jug of orange juice. “Um, I’m pretty sure you two can leave. She’s not even here.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, I’m assuming she climbed out the window after I crashed. She does that to escape the security teams. It’s kind of a rite of passage honestly.”

“Where would she go?”, Eddie growls.

“Um, there’s a bar about a mile up the road. She likes to walk there for some reason.”

***

“So, pretty lady. Do you want to come back to my place tonight?”

“Ugh, no. Get off me. I just want to drink in peace.”

“Oh, come on, honey.”, the man slurred.

“Hey! The lady said no.”, Steve’s voice echoed through the bar as he starred the man down. “Leave. Now.”

The patron held up his hands defensively, staggering back towards his table.

“Come on, Y/N. Time for you to go home.”, Eddie motioned for the bartender to stop serving you as the other boy reached into your purse to pay him.

“You’re my security. Not my fucking dad. I can stay here and drink if I want.”

“You’re at a bar in a nightie, shorts, and flip flops at 2 in the morning. It’s a safety concern.”

“Oh shit.”, you giggle. “I am in my nightie.” Steve roughly grips your arm and tugs you out the door towards his car. “Let me go, you fucking dick.”

A switch flips in the man’s brain; he can’t help it. For the past couple of days, he’s tolerated your disrespect but like Eddie, he hated it. They both could handle a lot but you were pushing them too far. Still holding onto your wrist, he twirls you towards the vehicle till your back hits the door.

“Now, listen here because I’m only going to say this once. We’ve handled the tone and the blatant disregard for what we do but it ends now. Our job is to keep you safe not fucking babysit some spoiled, rich washed-up singer. This is the last time you pull a stunt like this; do you understand me?”

Steve’s body was so close to yours you could feel his angry breath fanning your face. It had been ages since someone put you in your place like this and you’d be lying if you didn’t say you were a bit turned on. A new feeling washed over you though as your eyes scanned his face. For the first time since you entered this industry, you actually felt safe.

They weren’t afraid to be blunt with you which compared to everyone else in your life was a nice reprieve. You knew 90% of the people in your life, given the chance, would sell you out in a heartbeat but would still stand there and tell you how perfect you were.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Eddie’s voice startled you, completely unaware he was standing beside you with his hands in his pockets, glaring down at you with those same angry eyes.

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good. Now get in the car.”

#############

That following morning, they half expected to be fired but were surprised when you opened the front door as soon as they knocked.

“We have to go to the studio first and then I have to get ready for the gig tonight.”, you mumbled as you swished around them, trying to get in the backseat of his car to no avail. “Can you open the door…please?”

Eddie caught it in your tone first…something wasn’t right and it had nothing to do with them.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Can we just…”, you gesture towards the car.

“HEY! When you get back tonight make sure it’s with a better fucking attitude!”, Simon yells from your front door.

“Well maybe I won’t come back, you free loading mama’s boy!”

“Stupid bitch should learn how to talk to a man.”, he muttered under his breath as he slammed the door shut.

Steve and Eddie exchange a look before the metalhead speaks to you. “Is that something we need to handle?”

“No. He’s just being a fucking prick.”

He opens your door and you slowly slide in before both men do the same. As the car begins to move, Steve keeps checking on you in his rearview mirror. Your sunglass covered eyes remain focused on the window as you stare out into the California streets.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. About leaving and keeping you guys out late when you didn’t have to. Simon just pissed me off and…”

“Does he talk to you like that often?”

“No. Sometimes he’s an asshole.” You flash them a sassy smirk that grows when you see Eddie try and hide his own at your sarcasm. “He’s just…hot headed, you know? He’s been through a lot.”

“And you haven’t?”

Your eyes swivel to Steve before glancing down at your hands. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“He shouldn’t be talking to you like that, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well, neither should I so…”

“Just because you have an attitude doesn’t mean you deserve to be treated like trash. Maybe you just need someone stronger who can handle it and not take it personally.”

“Oh? And who would that be, Steve? You?”

“Aw, Munson, that’s cute. She thinks we can’t handle her.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, we’ve dealt with worse than you.”, he smiles as he turns around in his seat. “It’s you that can’t handle us. Thankfully though we aren’t in a relationship so we’ll never get to find out.”

“I never say never, gentlemen.”

****

After going over the tour dates, everything you would be doing, and everything you need, your next stop was the venue you would be performing at tonight.

Eddie cringed as the feedback of the mic echoed around the building.

“Hey! Try plugging it into the correct port!” The young man shrugged his shoulders causing the metalhead to go over and show the boy what he was doing wrong.

“Let me guess? Rock and Roll drummer in a Metallica cover band?”, you grin at him as the mic starts picking up your voice perfectly.

“Guitarist and our own band, not a cover band.”

“What about you, Steve? Are you musically inclined?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“What are you good at?”

“Babysitting.”, he raised his eyebrow in your direction making your smile grow.

As the additional security from the venue finally arrived, you watched with fascination as the guys took on a more authoritative tone, telling each person where they would need to be. Time slowly dwindled till it was about twenty minutes before the show. You began pacing as you shook out your preshow jitters.

“Hey, they say they are ready for you to head towards the stage.”

You jumped at the sound of Steve’s voice. “Goddamn it! Okay, fucking thank you!” His eyes narrowed in your direction as he came in and closed the door behind him. “Can I help you with anything else?!”

“Are you alright?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re not my father, Steven, or my friend. Get the fuck out! I’ll be right out!”

The boy bites his bottom lip as he nods his head. “Yes ma’am.” As he starts to open the door, he pauses turning to face you again. “You look really beautiful, by the way. Your voice is amazing. Eddie and I have actually never heard any of your songs before today. This will be our first concert. I’m excited to see it.”

Your wide, glassy eyes turn to look at him as he slowly begins to close the door again.

“Steve! Thank you…”

##########

That night you gave it your all and then some. Occasionally, you would glance down at the bottom of the stage watching as Steve and Eddie’s demeanor remained focused on the task at hand. Sometimes, however, you would notice a foot tap to the beat or a head would bob to your lyrics. If this was the first time they were attending a Y/N concert, you wanted them to enjoy it and show them what you bring to the entertainment table.

So many people when you were starting out told you that you would never make it. That your dream of becoming a singer was a pipe dream for people with “actual talent”. Since day one you always felt like you had to prove yourself, hell, even before you started singing. In your house growing up you felt like you had to fight to be seen.

Once you crossed that threshold, everything came easier but you never stopped fighting. Fighting the fear of being nothing again, the knowledge that everyone in your circle just wanted a piece of you and what you earned. Fighting to keep everyone happy including yourself. The alcohol and drugs helped immensely or at least that’s what you believed. You thought it helped numb your brain and the pain so you could just get through every day.

When Eddie sassed you in the studio, you knew he was different. For a while you couldn’t get a read on Steve until that night outside of the bar. The fact that neither of them had asked you to hear their demo tape or hit on you was already a point in their favor but they genuinely seemed to want to protect you so you wanted to return the favor in some way, your voice.

When the concert ended, they snuck a peak at you. Eddie was never a fan of the type of music you sang but he couldn’t deny that what you did sing went straight to his heart. Steve noticed that while you sang, it was like you transported to a different place. You seemed calmer and more in tune with yourself, making you seem more confident than when you weren’t.

This was the first time since they met you that you genuinely seemed happy.

Something in the atmosphere changed. Maybe it was too many booze served at the bar or just the energy of the evening but people in the crowd started chanting for an encore. You were exhausted having gone longer on your set then you were supposed to already. You gave the crowd your best smile, thanking them for coming out, and telling them how much you loved their support.

A fan jumped on to the stage and Eddie was quick to pull him back down. Panic set in as you watched the crowd start to fight with each other and the security team jump into action. The metalhead was in front of you and you hastily gripped his arm as he scanned the area trying to find Steve.

“Harrington?!”

After tapping his shoulder, you pointed to the corner near a wall where you saw the boy in a fist fight of his own. Eddie pushed you towards the side of the stage behind a curtain.

“Don’t move! I’ll be right back, ok?!”, he shouted over the chaos as you gave him a firm nod.

You watched as he jumped off the platform, running to pull the man off his friend and shoving him to where you were hiding. Steve didn’t even hesitate as he lifted you into his arms and they both ran down the hallway. They didn’t stop until they reached their car and placed you in the back seat, him climbing in with you as Eddie sped away.

“Wait…what about Jack…and everyone else?”

“No. We have to get you out and away from the building especially during a scene like that.” Steve searched through his jacket pocket for a tissue, placing it against his nose when he finally finds one.

“Are-are you okay?”

“Yeah. Fucking asshole got me good.”

About a mile down the road, Eddie parked the car into a gas station and got out to check you both over. “What happened, Harrington? Let someone get the best of you?”, Eddie chuckled.

“Dude, they cornered me so fast especially after I pulled him off of the venue’s security guy.”

“Did I do that? Did I do something wrong?” Their head swivel around to look at your frightened frame. “Th-that’s never happened before…I-I-I…”

“Hey, hey, hey Y/N. It’s ok. You didn’t do anything wrong. I seriously think it was just…”, Eddie shrugs. “Beer and a packed in place. People just being…too rowdy. It happens but that’s what we’re here for.”

The man throws his arms up in surprise when you suddenly tackle him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you press your head into his chest.

“Thank you…so much.” You let him go as you turn to give Steve a hug as well. “I’m so sorry you got hurt.”

When you started to pull back, his arms came down to hold you to him. “Hey, better me than you.”, he gently sighs, “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

#######

“Oh my god! What the fuck happened?! Baby, are you okay?” Simon ran to you from his place on your couch as you and the guys entered your house.

“The concert ended a bit roughly but I’m ok. Really…”

“Isn’t it your job to fucking protect her!?”

“Yes and we did that.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Look at her! She’s a mess and she’s shaking!” Your boyfriend charged up to Steve who glared down at him as he continued to yell in his face.”

“Simon, leave them alone. Please, I just want to get this crap off and go to bed.”

Eddie gripped his friend’s arm as he spoke to you. “Is there anything else you need, Y/N? Do you feel safe enough for us to leave and let you rest?”

“Of course, she fucking does. I can take care of her.”

Your eyes met theirs as you nodded. “Thank you.”

“We’ll talk to Jack and everyone in the morning.” The metalhead tugs at Steve forcing him to back down from your boyfriend. He flashes you one more cursory glance before turning around and leaving you for the night.

###########

“You boys did good last night. I don’t know what happened but you knew what to do.” Jack gave them a smile as he nodded his head in approval. “Please keep up that vigilance next week when we go on tour. I think—”

“Wait. You’re still doing the tour next week?”

Your manager looked at Eddie in confusion. “Yes? Why wouldn’t we?”

“I mean…she just went through a pretty traumatic event. I couldn’t imagine getting back up on a stage immediately after something like that.”

“Yeah, well, your security not a musician so—”

“I actually am but whatever.”

Jack sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as speaks to you. “Do you feel like you need more time?”

You didn’t even hear the man’s question. Since they picked you up and brought you to your managers office, you had been uncharacteristically quiet. You were thinking about everything including what transpired last night. It WAS incredibly scary but they did pull through and keep you safe. Not only did they look after you but each other; you appreciated that loyalty.

Now as Eddie defended you, thinking of your well-being, you felt yourself spiraling at the action. No one cared about you this much and they barely even knew you. What was their end game? What made them tick? What made them this way? Was it genuine or was it just their jobs?

“Y/N!”

“Huh? Oh, um, I mean…a week would be fine…especially if I can just rest…”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.”, Jack responded in a nonchalant tone. “Go ahead and take the week but be back here on Thursday so we can go over everything.”

You nod as you head out of the office with your protectors in tow. “Hey, um, did you guys want to go get some lunch or something?”

***

“So, why security?”, you ask as you bite into your burger.

“Like Steve said, I mean, we’re good at it.”

“Well, good at protecting people. Security work just allows us to get paid for it.”, the man smiles as he takes a sip from his drink.

“And you two have been friends for a while?”

“Since high school.”

“And where was that exactly?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions, sweetheart. Can I ask why?”, Eddie playfully narrows his eyes in your direction making you smile.

“I just…you two are very different then people we usually hire. I just want to know more about you.”

“Different how?”, Steve asks.

“I don’t know. You just seem to genuinely care.”

“If the people around you don’t genuinely care then you need to hire some new people.”

“Yeah, well, that’s hard to find in this industry.” You reach in your purse and raise a flask in their direction as you pour a bit into your coffee.

“Is that why you do things like that?”, Eddie gestures towards you drink.

“No, baby. I do things like this to keep me from going insane.”

“How about you do the healthy thing and stand up for yourself?”

You angerly turn your attention to Steve. “I can stand up for myself.”

“Oh? Is that why you let your manager, boyfriend, and entourage talk down to you the way they do?”

“Go fuck yourself, alright?! Look, I can stick up for myself and say what’s on my mind. For example, you two are complete fucking assholes.”, you growl. “I’m done eating. I want to go home.”

Eddie smirks as the other boy sighs. “Such a whiney, spoiled brat. I swear.” The metalhead pulls out his wallet, throwing money on the table as they both get to their feet. “Your highness.”, he gestures towards the front door.

“I’m not whiney or spoiled. I worked hard to get here and I’m not going to let you or anyone talk to me like that.”

“Yet you do.”, Steve retorts as he opens the back door to his car. You roughly reach across, slamming it shut. “I thought you wanted to go home.”

“Apologize to me.”

“For what? Pointing out the obvious? Frankly, I don’t get why you have such a low opinion of yourself. You’re beautiful, talented, and you have such a gorgeous voice yet you pump yourself with poison and let these people take advantage of you. Why?”

You exhale as you look towards the ground. “I can handle it.”

“You say that a lot.” Eddie folds his arms on top of the car as he leans onto his hands.

“Because I can.”

“By getting wasted?”

“My personal life is none of your fucking concern.”, you growl.

“You’re right.” Steve opens the back door again and this time you climb in. “You just seem like you deserve better.”

##########

“I swear, man, that girl is going to get us killed. Or put in prison after WE kill her.”, Eddie chuckles from his place on the sofa.

“I kind of like her.” The metalhead coyly raises his eyebrow at his friend. “Oh, come on, like you don’t?”, Steve sighs as he leans back against the couch. “There’s something hidden under all that sass and alcohol…I saw it when she was singing. I’d love to get to know that part of her better.”

Eddie grinned as he reached for his phone, smile fading when he saw the ID.

“Hello. This is Eddie Munson.”

“E-Eddie? I, um, I think—FUCK YOU! —I need help.”

“You stupid bitch! Open this fucking door right fucking now!”

Eddie ross to his feet, tugging at Steve’s arm as he searched for his keys. “Where are you?”

“I-I’m in my bedroom. Simon and I got into a fight and-and he’s wasted. Pl-please…I’m scared. He’s never been this angry.”

Steve had already started the car, speeding towards your house. “Hey, it’s ok, sweetheart. We’re on the way, alright? Just stay on the phone with me, ok?”

“I’m sorry I was so mean to you guys today. Fuck… you two seem s-so different. I-I just…”

“Y/N don’t even worry about that right now. Everything’s going to be alright. We’re almost there.”

“You think you’re so high and mighty! Think you can talk to me anyway you want to! Fuck you, you fucking slut! Open the door, Y/N!”

“Oh, sure! You fuck all the groupies and fans that show up to my concerts but I’m the fucking slut!”

“Y/N, stop engaging. Talk to me.” There’s a loud crash and a squeak from your side as the line cuts off. “Steve…hurry.”

Five minutes later, they are bursting through your front door, running towards your bedroom where they hear your boyfriend shouting. Steve tackles him to the floor subduing him with his knee in his back.

“Get the fuck off me!”

“Stop moving. You’re lucky I don’t fucking shoot you, asshole.”

“Y/N?”, Eddie softly called your name as you continued to cower in the corner with your head tucked into your arms. “Princess, everything is ok. I’m going to touch your arm.” You jump when his fingers graze your skin but you allow him to guide you to your feet. “There we go. Good girl. You’re doing so good. Can you look at me so I can check you out here?”

Your lips trembled as you faced him, his eyes slowly growing dark with fury as he scanned you over. Your face was red from your tears but he could also see where Simon had smacked your cheek. You had bruises that were starting to form on your arms where he must have grabbed you.

“I’ll call the police and EMS.”, he grumbled trying to contain his anger.

“No! No EMS. Please…I don’t need those pictures or attention.”

“But I do of me being pushed into a fucking cop car.”, Simon spat.

Steve grabbed his hair and hit his head into the carpet. “Shut. Up.” His eyes meet yours as he speaks in a much gentler tone. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, um, I have a first aid kit here and all that so I’m fine.”

***

The police came by and took Simon away after taking everyone’s statements. Eddie and Steve took care of almost everything which you immensely appreciated. After everyone left, you expected them to as well but as your front door closed, you found you weren’t the only one on the other side.

“I’m going to see if I can get your bedroom door back on its hinges.”, Eddie turned the corner to head down your hallway as Steve followed.

You tiptoe after them, watching them with bewilderment as the metalhead got to work and Steve began straightening up the things Simon had damaged.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” They both froze, straightening up to look at you. “Why…why are you so nice to me? I’m such a fucking bitch to you. According to you, I’m a bratty, spoiled, washed up singer. WHY are you doing this?!”, you gesture around the room.

They glanced at each other and after a few minutes it was Steve who finally spoke. “How should we be? Hm? Should we be like him? Do you think you deserve to be treated like this, Y/N?”

Their voices and demeanor completely changed in the moment; talking to you like a little girl who had just run into your parent’s room crying about a monster under her bed.

“Sweetheart, NO ONE deserve to be treated like this. You didn’t trigger this. What he just did…isn’t your fault. You did the right thing calling us here. Now what kind of protectors would we be if we left you here alone with your house like this?”

You broke, sobbing almost uncontrollably as your hands covered your face. Strong hands tenderly grabbed your biceps, pulling you into a chest as you wrapped your arms around his back. Another palm delicately petted your head and for the first time in your life, you had never felt safer.

Stepping back, you wipe your eyes, glancing up to see Eddie’s kind, worry filled orbs running over your face as Steve stood beside him doing the same.

“Can, um, can we worry about this tomorrow and you stay here with me tonight?”

“Yeah, we can stay here, honey. Do you have another room you can sleep in? I don’t think tomorrow morning you should open your eyes and this is the first thing you see.”

“I have a guest bedroom down the hall here.”

“Good because I agree with Steve. We can sleep on the couches out here and—”

“Can you sleep with me?”, you interrupt, your question startling both men. “I-I-I mean, you don’t have to. I just… I’m still a bit scared. I’m…forget about it.”

Eddie grabbed your hand as you started to walk away.

“We can do that for you. If that’s what you want.” You nod your head to his statement, watching him closely as his eyes shift from security Eddie to something you had never seen before in any man. Whatever it was it made you feel weak in the knees. His fingers reached out to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Can you say it?”

“I-I want you two to sleep…in my bed…with me. Please.” That last word comes out almost in a whisper, pleading with them to stay.

Steve’s fingers softly caress your cheek before gliding under your chin, turning you to face him. He had that same look Eddie had, that air of confidence you remembered seeing when you first met them but more dominate.

“Good girl.”

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