#this is really about multiple bands but currently about

[properdxse]

crazy how one band/artist’s lyrics can do so much for your mental well being

[steddieas-shegoes]

i wanna make your heartbeat run like roller coasters

for @subeddieweek day one with the prompts manhandling and accidental subspace

rated e | 3,520 words | please check ao3 for tags

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

Eddie gets pushed against a lot of lockers.

It’s rarely accidental.

It’s always painful.

He doesn’t exactly have a lot of meat on his bones. Every hit leaves a bruise.

So when Steve fucking Harrington does his own dirty work for once, even though he graduated the way Eddie was supposed to, it’s just a bit embarrassing that it doesn’t hurt. It feels…kinda like he should be on his knees.

Which is really not something he wanted to think about when Steve’s got a hand on his shoulder, gripping hard enough to bruise, and something like fear in his eyes. Why is he scared?

“Did you sell weed to Robin?” he asked, teeth clenched.

Jesus fucking Christ. Steve’s got himself a band nerd girlfriend. How the hell did that happen?

“No, I sold to her friend. She waited by the treeline talking to herself the entire time.”

Eddie could hear his own voice shaking, but he wouldn’t back down. Black eyes were kinda metal weren’t they?

“Which friend?”

“Dude, I don’t even know. Someone else in band.”

The hand on his shoulder tightened and he barely bit back a whimper.

Steve’s eyes were very pretty this close. They were pretty from far away, too. Honestly, having Steve this close was probably rewiring something already broken in his brain. Having Steve’s hand on him like this was making his brain do somersaults trying to stay focused.

And then his hand was gone.

Eddie breathed in, breathed out.

“Sorry. I-” Steve shook his hands out and backed away. “Sorry.”

Eddie ignored whatever the fuck was happening in his stomach. It shouldn’t be happening so it isn’t, simple as that.

“Maybe you should ask your girlfriend if you’re so worried about her buying drugs.” Eddie should learn to shut his mouth at some point. “I only sell to the people who come to me first.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I remember.” Steve wiped his hand down his face. “Sorry again.”

Eddie looked him up and down, taking in the fact that he was genuinely apologizing. No one ever apologized for knocking him around, not even when it was on accident.

“You good?” He eventually asked.

“Yeah. Just, she’s been through a lot. I didn’t really want her to get pressured into buying something,” Steve sighed. “Has she come out of the band room yet? I’m supposed to bring her to work.”

“Uh, yeah man, everyone left an hour ago.”

Eddie watched Steve’s face fall as he checked his watch and must’ve realized the time.

“Shit. Okay. I must’ve lost track of time.”

Steve looked pitiful. Eddie’s seen dogs in alleys who looked less beaten down and neglected than Steve currently did.

“I can help you find her?” Eddie offered for some unknown reason.

Well, he knew the reason, but he was choosing to ignore it.

“She’s probably already at work. It’s my day off so I ended up getting distracted with something and didn’t realize it was so late,” Steve admitted, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck. “Thanks, though.”

Wayne liked to tell Eddie he was too nice to undeserving people. Lord knows he gave his dad too many chances and got let down every time. He even tried to be friends with Tommy Hagan in middle school because he could sense something was going on with Tommy’s dad much like his own.

But Eddie liked to remind Wayne that Eddie is often considered undeserving and he took him in and gave him multiple chances regardless.

“You wanna smoke?” Eddie asked, despite knowing he barely has anything left after the long week of midterms for students. His busiest times of year were right before school breaks, midterms, finals, and graduation weekend. He usually stocked up, but with Rick being in prison again, he had to try to stretch what he had out.

“Uh…smoke what?”

“Weed.” Then it hit Eddie that maybe Steve was into harder stuff. But he hadn’t ever even bought from him in high school. Tommy had, Carol had, almost everyone at his parties had, but Steve never did. “I have regular old cigs too if you prefer.”

“Yeah, man, cool,” Steve sighed with relief.

“I got a spot behind the cafeteria if you wanna…”

“Sure, yep, let’s go,” Steve nodded, gesturing towards the double doors that led outside to the cafeteria and auditorium buildings.

As they walked, Eddie’s mind raced with thoughts of being alone with Steve, Steve’s arm brushing against his, Steve pushing him against the wall of the cafeteria, of Eddie dropping to his knees and unbuttoning Steve’s pants and-

“I’m really sorry about what happened back there.”

Steve’s voice shook him from his thoughts, but his dick didn’t quite get the memo. When did he even start getting hard?

“No worries, dude.” His face scrunched in disgust at calling Steve dude. What was next, the bro pat on the back? A fist bump? “Kinda jealous of how protective you are of your girlfriend.”

Okay, actually, what the fuck? Eddie needed to shut his fucking face, right the fuck now.

“She’s not my girlfriend, but uh, I don’t think you’re really her type either,” Steve gave him a look, one Eddie knew well and one he couldn’t quite believe he was seeing on Steve’s face right now.

“Right, right.” Eddie wouldn’t make him say it, especially if it was actually the look he thought it was, but maybe he could offer a little something in return. “Yeah, she’s not really my type either.”

Steve stopped just before they reached the hidden area behind the dumpster and picnic table for staff to smoke.

“Really?” Steve’s eyes were wide. “So you’re more into…someone like…me?”

Eddie was actually leaking into his goddamn boxers. Why was he getting turned on just talking to Steve?

“That would be one way of saying it,” Eddie said. Still easy enough to back out of it, at least. Could just say he likes women who wear polos and use more hairspray than Melvald’s has ever carried at any given time.

“Huh,” Steve continued walking to the picnic table, sitting on top of it and kicking some dirt off the bench by his legs for Eddie to sit. “So those rumors were true?”

“That depends on if I’m gonna make it back home to my very loving uncle if I say yes.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Obviously, I’m not gonna judge you about it when my best friend is-” He cut himself off and Eddie had to give him major credit. The Steve he used to know never would’ve cared if he outed someone, or at least never would have realized that was wrong. He coughed and then looked down at the bench. “You gonna sit?”

Eddie sat down on the bench, extremely close to Steve’s legs. Almost touching. Was that heat coming from his body or was Eddie just extremely warm?

“Did you actually wanna smoke or did you just wanna get out of the hall?” Steve asked after another minute of awkward silence.

“We can smoke.” Eddie reached into his pocket, hating how tight his jeans were in the front, and grabbed his lighter. His pack of cigarettes were usually stored in his van because he rarely smoked them, but luckily he’d brought them with him all week to sneak smokes between classes. He pulled one out and handed it to Steve.

He started to light his own when Steve leaned down, his face right next to Eddie’s, breath hot on his neck.

“You aren’t gonna light it for me?”

Eddie whimpered.

He would deny it a million times over if anyone asked. He almost had himself believing he imagined it.

But Steve laughed and backed away, pulling out his own lighter and giving Eddie a second to catch his breath.

What the fuck was that? Did Steve know he was making Eddie’s brain flatline?

He watched Steve take a long drag out of the corner of his eye, his mind shuffling between ‘what if he fucked me right here?’ and ‘get the hell away before your dick pops a hole in your jeans.’

Steve’s lips were so pink, and looked so soft, and just wet enough from licking his lips before taking the next drag, and Eddie was really going through it right now.

He’d gone through his Steve Harrington phase just like everyone else, thought it was over when he graduated. Had avoided the mall all summer when he heard he was working at Scoops so he didn’t have to see him in those tiny blue shorts. Had even gone so far as to avoid being around when the kids were being picked up from Hellfire because Dustin mentioned Steve was his ride.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Except for Eddie’s imagination was impressive, and his late night thoughts turned into very vivid scenes of Steve working him to the edge and making him beg, or pushing him against a locker and making him take his cock with barely any prep, or-

“Dude, anyone ever tell you you’re kinda space-y?” Steve’s voice once again lifted him from his thoughts, though he felt a bit hazy.

“Think I’m comin’ down with something,” Eddie squeaked out. All he was coming down with was a sickness deep in his chest: Harrington Heart-itis.

“Did you hit your head?” Steve sounded concerned now, setting his cigarette in the ashtray left on the table and moving so he had one leg on either side of Eddie. His fingers landed in Eddie’s hair, pulling his head closer and inspecting it for injury. “I didn’t think anything but your shoulders hit, but maybe-”

“No,” Eddie gulped. He should pull away. “Didn’t hit my head.”

Steve’s fingers tightened, not quite painfully, but enough of a bite to it that Eddie whimpered. Again.

Steve’s grip loosened, but his fingers stayed buried in his curls, and Eddie felt pressure guiding him to rest against Steve’s thigh.

“You eat today?” Steve asked, though his voice sounded kinda far away, like he was above the surface of the water and Eddie was sitting at the bottom of a pool looking up at the sun. “Eddie?”

“Hm?” Eddie blinked up at Steve. “I ate.”

“When?” Steve’s hand was cupping his cheek. “Lunch?”

“Mmm, no,” Eddie shook his head, blinked. “Breakfast? Cereal.”

Steve cursed under his breath.

He was so pretty. Had he been told how pretty he was? Surely when Nancy was with him, she told him.

Even if Robin liked women, she had to at least notice how pretty he was, right?

Steve’s sharp intake of breath somewhat centered Eddie.

“I’m gonna drive you home, okay?” Steve whispered, leaning down so his face was only inches away.

Eddie could kiss him. It would be the easiest thing in the world to lift his head the final two inches to make their lips meet.

“Eddie, eyes open,” Steve’s fingers tightened again, gaining Eddie’s full attention. “Should I call someone? Are you dynamic or something?”

Eddie’s brows furrowed. What did that even mean?

“Like the sugar thing?” Steve continued.

“Diabetic?” Eddie still felt a little hazy, but he was starting to come back to it with Steve’s hand migrating from his hair to his shoulder. “No, my sugar’s fine.”

“I’ve got some soda in my car. I can drive you home and then bring you to school in the morning. You probably shouldn’t drive like…this.”

It all came crashing down when Eddie realized how vulnerable he’d just been, how he’d actually lost track of time, not sure exactly how long he’d been sitting between Steve’s legs with his hands in his hair before he started coming back to earth. He stood up, maybe a bit too quickly, rocking a bit before finding his balance.

“Woah, take it easy.” Steve held his hands out, grasped his biceps to hold him steady. “You were pretty far out of it. Don’t rush it.”

How fucking embarrassing.

Eddie had only gone down that far one time with someone and they got freaked out when he was giggling and couldn’t walk on his own because his legs felt like jelly. But that had been on purpose. This was- Steve didn’t– Jesus Christ.

“I’m fine now.” Eddie was not fine. He knew what would happen if he left right now. Aftercare was a major part of this whether Steve was prepared for it or not. “Just, um, walk me to my van.”

Steve looked like a kicked puppy, but Eddie didn’t have the time to explain all of this to him.

Steve Harrington didn’t know how much of a freak Eddie was even if he did know he was gay. There’s no way Steve participated in any type of BDSM with the many girls he slept with in high school.

There was absolutely no fuckin’ way Nancy Wheeler let herself get tied to a bed and get fucked by Steve.

He shook his head at the thought.

“I’d feel a lot better if you let me drive you. I promise we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” Steve sighed. “I just don’t know if you should drive when you went down so hard.”

“You have no idea what even happened,” Eddie argued, pacing back and forth. “I can drive. I just need to walk it off.”

“You don’t walk off subspace.”

Eddie froze. Steve was standing right in front of him now, concern in his big, stupid, adorable eyes.

“How do you even know about subspace?” Eddie whispered.

“I slept with half the high school and two guys in Indy. I know what subspace is, Eds.”

Eddie must still be in space. Or maybe another galaxy.

“Sorry, did you just say you slept with two guys in Indy?” Has Steve seriously fucked more guys than Eddie has? Eddie, the resident gay man of Hawkins, has only been with one man in his entire life and Steve has apparently slept with two?

“Well, I wasn’t gonna sleep with two men in Hawkins!” Steve threw his hands up before putting them on his hips. “I hit up a gay bar and didn’t realize it doubled as a BDSM club until I was already in it and then a nice guy showed me the ropes. Literally. There were ropes involved.”

Eddie snorted. Steve was pretty and funny. Great. Just what he needed.

“I have a quick recovery, so I’ll be fine to drive home,” Eddie tried, though even he could hear his voice still shaking.

“No one is that quick,” Steve wrapped an arm around his shoulders, tugging him into a hug. “Has that ever happened before?”

“Not like that.”

“We should probably talk about it.”

The last thing Eddie wanted to do was talk about how someone playing with his hair and moving his head around while showing the bare minimum of care was enough to send him into subspace, but he had a feeling Steve wasn’t gonna give up easily.

“Fine. What should we talk about? How no one ever touches me gently so the moment someone did, I slipped? How I’ve been avoiding seeing you anywhere in public because I knew it would make my crush come back full force? Oh, I know!” Eddie laughed hysterically as he pulled away. “Let’s talk about how I still think about you in your stupid basketball shorts when I’m fucking myself on four fingers, which is never enough because I can never reach the spot I need to. Or how I once cut out your yearbook photo to keep for jerking off material because my mags weren’t enough. Could even talk about how earlier I wanted you to put your leg between mine so I could rub off on you. Or maybe the weather if you’d prefer that.”

Eddie was panting, could feel the heat on his face rising as he realized everything he’d just said, admitted, to Steve.

He’d never said any of that out loud. Shit, he’d barely said most of it in his own head.

Steve’s arms were pulling him in and Eddie let himself have it, let himself feel small for just a moment. If Steve wasn’t completely disgusted by what he said, then he would at least accept this offering of kindness for now.

They stayed like that for a while, long enough that Eddie started to wonder if he could just live here, right in Steve’s arms.

“It’s looking a little cloudy,” Steve said quietly, hands still rubbing Eddie’s back slowly.

“What?” Eddie still felt a little out of it, but that was entirely out of left field.

“You said we could talk about the weather.”

Eddie snorted. “Oh my God, you’re so-” Eddie looked up at Steve, who was smiling down at him. He felt off-kilter, being the object of that particular Steve look. “Stupid.”

It was fond, probably too fond for someone who needed to protect himself from whatever the hell was happening. He needed to shut this down.

“It’s been mentioned,” Steve’s eyes flickered down to Eddie’s lips, then back up to his eyes. “You good to head out?”

Eddie started to nod, but stopped.

This was his only chance. He wasn’t dumb enough to think he’d ever be alone with Steve again. If he was gonna kick start a spiral over feelings, he might as well go all out.

He stood at his full height, almost eye level with Steve, and leaned in.

The kiss was not even close to perfect. In fact, as far as kisses go, it was probably in the bottom three for Steve. Eddie chose not to think about how he screwed it all up.

But once the initial shock wore off, and Eddie put his teeth away, Steve’s hand cupped Eddie’s cheek and he licked past his lips.

Leave it to Steve to turn this around, make it something worth the risk.

Their lips moved in sync, both of them deepening the kiss without making it too wet, too filthy for a public space.

It was, dare he say, romantic.

Most kisses Eddie had managed to have were dirty and rough, hidden away in dark bars and alleyways, not exactly prime teen romance.

Of course Steve was good at this, of course he made Eddie melt against him, and of course Eddie was going to start writing hearts around Steve’s name in his notebook as if they were high school sweethearts.

When they pulled apart, it took him a minute to open his eyes. How stereotypical.

Steve was already looking at him, softer than he probably deserved.

“You’re pretty good at that,” Eddie breathed out.

“It’s been mentioned.” Steve’s lips turned up in a smirk before he pulled away completely. “Let’s go.”

They walked back through the school, stopping at Eddie’s locker to grab one of his textbooks as if he actually would use it. By now, he didn’t really need the textbooks to get his work done. And he was actually committed to getting it done this time around.

They were quiet as they continued out to the parking lot, only a few cars belonging to teachers left, maybe a few students stuck here for football or basketball practice. Steve’s car was towards the back, but Eddie’s was almost all the way in the grass field by the main road. It was less risky leaving it further away, less likely that anyone would slash the tires or key the side.

“You’re sure you can drive?” Steve asked as they stood outside his car.

“Yeah. Only five minutes to the trailer. It’ll be fine.” Eddie shrugged like it was nothing, but he was actually a little worried the kiss set him too off balance to focus on the road. Fuck the subspace, Steve’s lips were like discovering a new galaxy.

“Can I call you later? To check on you?” Steve seemed hesitant to ask.

“Uh, yeah? Do you…have my number?”

Steve shook his head, opening the door to his car and reaching into the glovebox to find a pen and an old receipt. As Eddie wrote down the number to the trailer, he thought about how much worse this would be tomorrow, how shitty it would be to have had this absolutely out of this world experience with the one person he never thought he could and then be left with scraps for the rest of his life.

“You uh, you don’t have to call, man. Don’t feel pressured. My uncle will be home so it’s not like I’ll be alone.”

Steve took the paper and pen back, folding the paper and putting it in his pocket and throwing the pen back into the car.

“I’m gonna call.” Steve moved a piece of Eddie’s hair from in front of his face. “You got a phone in your room?”

“No, but the one we have reaches to the bathroom?” Why the hell did he need one in his room?

“Good. Need you to be alone.”

“Steve, what the hell does that mean?”

“How else am I supposed to tell you what I wanna do to you?”

Well, fuck.

Day two: ao3 | tumblr

[intergalacticfop]

Minoan Kilt

The large, structural skirt worn by Minoan women in art is instantly recognizable, and when I made my own I combined current best guesses with my own personal tastes.

My kilt shape follows the hypothesis laid out by Bernice Jones in her book Ariadne's Threads: The Construction and Significance of Clothes in the Aegean Bronze Age. She describes the shape of that of a labrys, a double-headed axe with apparent ceremonial significance in Ancient Minoan culture. This garment may be depicted in Linear-B logogram *166 + we, we-being the backwards-s-shaped squiggle in the center which identifies the piece as a garment.

See pages 336 and 341 in Marie-Louise B. Nosch, The Textile Logograms in the Linear B Tablets

Actual details on construction and materials below the cut:

Construction:

The top and bottom edges of the kilt are concave, so the sides are longer than the middle. This gives the chevron-shape seen on layered kilts in art. In addition, the curved top half makes the skirt flare out, accommodating the hips and giving more freedom of movement to the legs. My kilt measured from my waist to my anklebone at the longest point, and about 1.5 times around my waist.

I chose to make a flounced kilt, with smaller strips of fabric and trim applied to a large base piece, rather than a tiered kilt, in which multiple kilt shapes of varying length are layered one on top of the other, so you end up wrangling 3 layers of fabric around the waist. The flounced kilt saves fabric and gives you a lot more freedom with whatever trim you might want. Jones' diagram for a flounced kilt is seen below:

Unlike the version in the diagram above, I chose not to attach ties to the garment itself both because the linen I used was very heavy and I was concerned about weight, and also because folding the skirt and securing it with a separate tie worked just fine for my tastes. In total I had four flounces: 2 alternating rows each of fabric and fringe.

The vertical edges of most kilts are left plain, probably representing either the selvage or an edge otherwise finished off to prevent fraying. For my kilt, however, I ended up with a couple inches of self-fringe on either side as I adjusted the fabric to the correct width. At least three examples of kilts with fringed vertical edges are known, all three from the so-called "House of the Ladies" in Akrotiri

Photos from Wikimedia Commons. Image 1. Image 2.

The vertical edges of these kilts are reinforced with a colored band or tape, probably to keep the garment from unintentional further fraying. Accordingly, I did the same on my kilt. I also like that it gave a nice vertical diagonal to counterbalance the horizontal ones.

Materials

I tried to use mainly linen and wool, the fibers most available on Ancient Crete, but some of my trim was cotton because sometimes you just have to use what's cheap and available in the today times.

The base of my kilt is a heavy, patterned linen in what's called a diaper weave, meaning that a repeating diamond pattern is woven into the pattern itself. A lot of the Minoan textiles depicted in frescoes are characterized by repeating geometric patterns, likely woven into the fabric itself, and that was something I wanted to capture in my own piece. My linen is woven with both cream and natural colored threads. The heavy weight is important to give structure to the garment--otherwise it would be kind of limp. My linen was from Burnley & Trowbridge (shameless plug), as was the plain cotton twill tape I used to bind the top and bottom edges of the kilt, and the dark red wool twill tape I used along the vertical edges.

I bought my cotton fringe from a rug supply store. I had to search a while to find a fringe that would work for me, and I ultimately chose fringes with a woven header rather than the more common knotted one, so that it would lay flat against the kilt. I hid the woven header under a layer of cotton fringed trim from Michaels (yes, Michaels) with this really great diamond and dots pattern woven in black.

The blue layers are from a bolt of vintage wool Kimono fabric. Blue appears frequently in frescoes, likely achieved with indigo or woad dye, or even murex/mollusk dye. The fabric is printed with an imitation ikat pattern of diamonds and squares that made me think "the vibes seem right!" because quite frankly, you aren't going to get "historically accurate" Minoan textiles (which there probably isn't enough archaeological evidence to definitively describe) without, like, hand-weaving it yourself or paying someone hundreds of dollars to do it for you (and that price is if the weaver really likes you). Neither of which appealed to my desire to just make a fun, low stress project. Good enough is good enough.

The narrow trim on the bottom of the blue flounces is vintage cotton/poly woven trim. This trim, while narrow, was quite thick and stiff, which was great because it added more weight and structure to the end of my flounces since the wool fabric itself was quite thin.

The top layer is a custom tablet-woven wool trim that I commissioned from MAHTAVAhandicraft on Etsy. I imagined this as the "centerpiece" of my kilt, and I'd arrange everything to complement it.

It's a kivrim pattern, which has itself only been traced to 19th-century Anatolia, but I didn't care. The way it looks like waves reminded me of how central the sea was to life in the Ancient Aegean and Mediterranean and it captured the idea and aesthetic I was pursuing. I mean, doesn't it remind you of these dolphins?

(I like the dolphins)

The whole thing was machine sewn with the exception of hemming and adding trim to the blue flounces. If you were to look at it from the back, you'd see lots of zigzag stitches, because i wanted to be fast! and have fun! not chase some unreachable ideal of "accurate."

As for wearing it, I chose to wear it with the top part folded/rolled down over a belt, so I have a thick tube of fabric around my waist. Many images, like the frescoes above of women with fringed kilts, appear to just show the kilt being tied closed. Other images are so fragmented or stylized that it's unclear what kind of skirt closure was used. Sculptures and figurines definitely show some kind of SOMETHING around the waist, whether this is folded fabric or a kind of belt is unclear. Different art could show different things!

I think I see evidence of a continuous line from the skirt to the waist-roll on the figure on the left, found in Troas, which I think indicates some kind of skirt-folding situation. The woman on the right, found in Crete, looks more like she's wearing some kind of long coiled belt, or perhaps snakes. Who knows? I don't! For my own part, I found the combination of rolled waist + tie belt the most secure for doing things like kneeling, stomping around, and wading into rivers to rescue bees. I also liked that it gave me the bulk around the hips that gives Minoan figurines such a powerful silhouette, and proportionally gives more of an hourglass shape. If you wanted to do something more firmly grounded in the sources, stick just with the waist tie or belt, wrapped around a couple times and tied in back. If you want to be like me, just say "well we don't KNOW it didn't happen" and just do whatever you want. Have fun! Whatever happens, it should be fairly easy to move around in the kilt--this is not a restrictive garment, just a heavy one.

[ghouljams]

Okay hear me out Gaz with a darling who's a nursing student, but they got their CNA(certified nursing assistant) certification in highschool through you're high school trade school program, got your LPN(license practical nurse), and is currently working on get your RN(registered nurse) with your final goal of getting their LNP(licensed nurse practitioner). You could meet in the ER because he worked himself too hard didn't sleep forgot to drink and eat and just thump Price and Soap rushed the poor man to the hospital. All he remembers is he hit the ground and he wakes up to quite the pretty nurse tending to him.

He finds out later that his nurse is still a student and is actually in a couple of his classes and starts seeing you everywhere in classes, at the library, student events, parties that Soap throws, finds out you're even in the band program. How the hell did he not notice such a pretty little thing for so long?

-Hot mess rambler

P.s. I'm sorry (not) for giving you an idea for price's darling

OK. OK OK OK OK I have a thought, and also multiple "people going to the hospital" stories from college. I do love love love Gaz fainting, but I also love this one story I have and I need you to tell me which one sounds more fun.

Gaz has noticed you. He sees you in band, sees you in the library, walking to classes, he spots you at student events. You're hard not to notice, you're gorgeous, radiant, you laugh a little too loud and he loves you for it. He's got no time to take you out though. That's the problem. He would've talked to you by now but his schedule is insane and he has no time to date, and you deserve to be wooed. You deserve to date someone who has time for you. He's working on it, working with Price to figure out his schedule for next semester so he can have time for you. GOD you don't even know he exists but he is making time for you.

He's out with Soap having a dart at some shitty college bar when he hears from someone inside that you're seeing someone. Maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the upset that he didn't get to you first, but Gaz punches a dumpster. No half measures, he hits the cool metal hard and he feels his knuckles crunch as much as he hears them. Soap stares at him and calls Price for a ride to the hospital while Gaz spits and swears. "Yeah, no, Gaz punched a dumpster," Soap crouching to inspect it, "There is a dent, aye good on ya Gaz."

And of course who should he see when he gets settled in the ER, who's bandaging his hand? You of course. Working an ER shift between classes and just as radiant as always even in scrubs. No, especially in scrubs. He thought you were a student, then again he doesn't really know anything about you except that you're gorgeous and taken. You ask Soap what happened because Gaz is too busy staring at you to be conversational. You laugh, just a little too loud, when he tells you that Gaz punched a dumpster. "Alcohol will do that," you smile at him, and Gaz feels like he's staring at the sun.

And maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the painkiller you gave him, maybe it's the way you smile at him like you could stop the world with a glance, but he can't stop his mouth from moving. "I'd be good to ya, break up wi' your boyfriend," he slurs. Soap wheezes, leans over to clutch his stomach he laughs so hard. You give him a look of utter confusion.

"I don't have a boyfriend," you tell him, "hardly have time to sleep between this and classes." You lean over Gaz and he sits up a bit to sniff you, just enough to smell hospital soap and the last dredge of your perfume. "Is he always like this?" You ask Soap.

"Nah 'e's fuckin' trollied," Soap manages between giggles, "sober 'im up an' he's class."

"Right," you smile again, God you should smile all the time Gaz never wants you to stop smiling. You look at him and he must look like a fool the way Soap sputters and laughs. "Why don't you ask me out when you sober up," You grin, like it's a private joke between the two of you. It is most certainly not a joke to Gaz.

"I will," He tells you, deathly serious. Your smile softens a little and you grab a pen from your pocket. You hold Gaz's arm still and carefully write down your name and phone number, making sure it's legible before you let him take a look at it. "Bet," He grins.

"This'll be a great story for your kids," Soap says, leaning to inspect your penmanship.

"Gotta get a ring now," Gaz agrees. You laugh and leave them to their plotting, sure you won't hear from your patient in the morning.

[loko4koko]

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ Miya Atsumu x fem!Reader ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

>fanart_credit: GREEN_U_U_ (via_twitter)

MDNI 18+

>word_count: 7384

>contents: alcohol mentions (major plot point), implied drunk sex/hookup, kinda implied sex with a stranger, implied and explicit rough sex, drunk marriage proposal/wedding, atsumu being super rich for plot purposes, slight pda, slight dry humping/grinding, explicit p in v, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), atsumu talking filthy, atsumu ripping reader’s panties off, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), cervix/womb fucking (very brief), mating press, multiple positions, creampie, atsumu being the world’s best husband *~*

skull pounding. head aching. brain melting.

those are the only ways you could describe waking up right now. face contorting and stretching as you blink bleary eyes, you close them just as quickly with a pained moan when the light of day shining through the windows hits you. you know you fucked up, know you got far too wasted last night because you never feel this hungover- not unless you down an excessive amount of shots in a not nearly spaced out enough timeframe. you rub at your face with the hand not curled under your pillow and something feels…strange. there’s something cold, hard, metallic that almost scratches you and your brow furrows, forcing your eyes open despite the brightness to look at your palm.

“what the fuck..?�� you whisper, voice still strained with exhaustion and you’re staring in confusion as you turn your hand around to look at the back side. okay, you were right on first glance, that’s a fucking ring sitting on your finger. a decent sized rock, princess cut set on a silver band, one that you have to doubt it’s realness for the simple fact that you’ve never seen it before and, if it were a true diamond, would cost an amount of money that you could only call exorbitant. you stare at the ring for a moment before realizing that the backdrop of your current view is..not where you’d expected to go to sleep last night (this morning? you aren’t quite sure to be honest.) the hotel room is far more opulent than the one you’d dropped your bags into. this room is at least double, maybe even 3 times as big with floor to ceiling windows and a view too high and holy shit, this is basically a penthouse. you are in someone’s room- no, someone’s suite with what is potentially a diamond ring on your finger and now you’re worrying that you got so goddamn drunk that you managed to break into someone’s insanely costly hotel and decorated yourself with their insanely costly jewelry. your eyes could rival a full moon as you realize that you’d been freaking out so much about the room and the ring that you didn’t even notice you weren’t alone.

“oh..my god,” you cry out to yourself quietly, eyes now focused solely on the muscular arm that’s draped over your middle. you notice, only then, that you are bare under the sheets and your heart is racing so fast you’re concerned about the possibility of a heart attack. oh yeah, you really, absolutely, assuredly fucked up last night.

the person that the arm is attached to groans, said limb wrapping tighter around you and dragging you back against an equally sinewy chest. you want to turn over, get a good look at just who it is you ended up going home with, whose bed you’re in, who you ended up ass-naked with, but you’re too scared. shallowly, you think you might have to run away forever if you ended up here with someone…not to your taste. you hope and pray that hammered you had good standards, even if she made extraordinarily poor decisions. you settle back in, staring straight ahead with fretful eyes as you try to think- try to use the few brain cells you haven’t killed to remember just what shook down last night. the last thing you fully remember is getting to the second club you arrived at, your best friend still in tow as you got to the bar, ordered tequila shooters and “blowjob” shots. you must’ve wrapped your lips around too many because you sure don’t remember leaving there, don’t remember meeting any guys you’d want to go home with. you try your best but you just..can’t. can’t picture it, can’t picture the face of the man behind you, wrapped around you like it’s where he belongs.

you sit there, stewing in the fact that your memory is well and truly fucked, for about 15 minutes before the mystery man groans again, but this time you know he’s awake, know he’s becoming aware of the situation when you hear an “oh, fuck” from behind you. you think it just might be time to bite the bullet so you start the turnover, bracing yourself for the impact that you might’ve gone home with some sweaty creep with a face only a mother could love. you meet his eyes with your own and you find that you’re…quite pleasantly surprised. it’s obvious that you’re both scanning each other, seeing just how bad your choices might’ve been and he hasn’t cringed or jumped away in disgust so maybe he has the same reaction that you do.

it takes you a moment to realize, but you do actually recognize him, however, not from last night. no, you recognize him from your television screen. the shock in your eyes has to be apparent as you come to realize that the man before you- the faux-blonde with eyes just as confused as yours- is the star setter of the Japan national team. a man you’d seen on television because he competed in the goddamn olympics.

Miya Atsumu.

you have no control over the way your mouth falls open and a dumbfounded “holy shit” escapes. admittedly, you knew your taste could be rather questionable at times but there’s a little bit of pride in you that you’d at least ended up in bed with a very accomplished and very hot athlete. your eyes travel down his face, starting from those thick eyebrows, down to those big, brown eyes, down the slope of his nose and to lips that you’re sure you kissed an immeasurable amount of times, if the lipstick that’s still smeared on them has anything to do with you. yeah, that’s definitely him.

“uh, don’t-don’t take this the wrong way but..d’ya remember anything from last night?” he questions you nervously, probably afraid of offending you and you’re a little bit glad to know you aren’t the only one having this thought right now. you frown, lip between your teeth as you shake your head. “no..i actually was gonna ask you the same thing. this,” you say, lifting your hand and showing him the ring on your finger, “is not mine. it wasn’t on my finger when i first went out, so we should probably check the news and see if we robbed a jewelry store or something.” he laughs softly, nodding in agreement before reaching to pull the lush blanket from his body. he has no shame about being nude, not that he should, not with a body like that. he’s taller than he seemed on the tv screens- broad, sculpted shoulders that taper down into a waist you wouldn’t mind digging your fingers into. he’s got his back to you and even his butt is nice, well toned from what you can assume is vigorous volleyball training. you’re caught gawking when he turns around to face you, still naked as the day he was born, clearing his throat with a wink in your direction and a little smirk playing at his lips.

“didn’t mean to interrupt, sweet thing. jus’ wanted to get yer name. ‘m atsumu, miya atsumu.” the burn in your cheeks feels like hellfire and you look away, stuttering as you tell him who you are. you try not to stare again, not that it seems he’d mind, but from the little glimpse you do catch, you can see why there’s a dull ache between your hips.

about 45 minutes and 2 baths in the (very lavish) ofuro later, you’re both decent enough to sit and try to combine your brainpower into remembering what happened over the previous 10 or so hours. you wish to god you could remember how the night went, at least the part when you’d ended up in bed with a man like atsumu, but you think you had a good time if the dark marks spread across your neck, chest, and thighs are any indication.

atsumu is kind, much kinder than you expected a pro athlete to be, if you’re truthful. he hands you a menu and tells you you can have anything you want from it, and you’re shocked when you realize just how expensive all of the items on it are. even a glass of the “organic, freshly hand-squeezed orange juice” costs more than what you’d spend on 2 whole cartons back home and you realize just how out of your element you are here.

“um, i’ll just have a latte and some fruit..” you say sheepishly, handing atsumu the menu back and he frowns, nudging the pamphlet back into your hands. “ah, sweet thing, ya gotta eat more than that. need’ta soak up all the alcohol, yeah? i think i remember champagne being brought out at some point. c’mon, whatever ya like, really.” he gives you a smile, doing a little “go on” motion with his large hands and you bite your lip, nodding as you look over the menu again. you end up deciding on the american breakfast, offering waffles and sausage and the fruit you’d originally asked for, along with the coffee you so desperately need. atsumu, however, with the appetite of an athlete goes for a full japanese spread and when you remember the price from the menu and your estimations of how much the room you’re in could’ve costed, you take a glance at the ring on your finger again. there’s a small part of you that’s starting to doubt your original thoughts of it being a fake stone, what with the obviously enormous amount of money atsumu must have at his disposal. no, there’s no way you two could’ve gotten that drunk..right?

atsumu pulls you from your thoughts as the room service breakfast arrives, the server placing the platters in front of you at the table you sit at. atsumu thanks her, gives her what looks to be a generous tip and she’s off again. you quietly dig into your breakfast as you delve back in to the little memory you have of the night, and the more you eat, the more bits and pieces come back to you. you remember the champagne that the blonde mentioned earlier and you vaguely see yourselves downing glass after glass of the bubbly substance, flashes of you and atsumu making out somewhere that wasn’t the club popping into your head, but it’s spotty again after that. you sip at the smooth latte in front of you, feeling like your brain is going to turn to goo and slide out of your ears if you keep trying to push for the memories, so you give it a rest for now.

soon after breakfast is finished and a few phone calls are made on atsumu’s end, you learn just how you met- thanks to someone you know as his national’s teammate, bokuto, who happened to be with him when this all started. you’d met at what is apparently the third club you’d hopped to, when he approached you at the bar and offered to buy you a drink in exchange for a dance. you can’t blame yourself for accepting the proposition, one of the rare times when a man who is actually good looking makes an advance towards you while you’re out partying. bokuto tells atsumu on speakerphone how he saw you two dancing for only a short while before the borderline public indecency of your raunchy kissing and grinding started, and the next time he’d turned back to look for his friend, you both were gone. you’re grateful for the lead, at least able to put together the beginning of the night you’d spent with the setter. you wonder just where the two of you’d gotten off to after that, though, and how it went from there to you waking up in his hotel room with a ring on your finger. you turn away from the incredible city view that the room offers to pace around for a bit, to see if it’ll activate your brain into giving you some more useful information. you’re walking along the trail that your clothes made when you’d first gotten up, from the door to the bed, when you notice a piece of paper lying on the ground. you pick it up, scanning it over quickly and you just might have to pick your jaw up off of the floor when you finish. there’s a blank look in your eyes as you walk over and hand it to atsumu, who scans it equally as fast and almost chokes on his orange juice.

“700,000 yen at a jewelers?! what the hell did i…oh..” his brain fully registers the situation when you slide the ring off of your finger, placing it on the table in front of him. you can’t even begin to fathom how you’d gotten so drunk together that the man went and bought you a ring worth that much at 3:45 in the morning. you both stare at the guilty piece of jewelry for a moment before atsumu sighs, picking it up and analyzing it up close.

“there’s no way i picked this out. ya got good taste, i’ll tell ya that.” you huff out a laugh, shaking your head. “well, i went home with you, didn’t i?” atsumu cracks up at that, gently placing the ring back down on the table. “oh, yer quite the charmer, sweet thing. can see why i bought ya a 700,000 yen ring, if ya were flirtin’ with me like that last night.” there’s blood rushing to your cheeks and you smile, biting your lip as you look away from him for a moment to think before you speak again.

“atsumu, do you..do you think we..got married last night? i mean the ring..the champagne..it can’t be just a coincidence, can it?” the blonde man raises a thick brow, face twisted up like it wasn’t something he’d considered before now and it’s obvious he’s deep in his thoughts.

“guess it’s possible, right? what else can ya think? i still can’t remember all of it but champagne makes it sound like we were celebrating somethin’, and bokuto said he didn’t remember seein’ us with any at the club, so it must’ve happened sometime after the ring.” you sigh, completely and utterly stumped. you feel a pang of guilt that you’d gotten a guy like atsumu wrapped up in something as crazy as this with you, but you know there’s blame to be had on both sides. it’s annoyingly flattering, though, that he’d met you only hours before he seemingly proposed to you. you must’ve had some crazy good game if you’d gotten this gorgeous (and incredibly wealthy) man to seek you out, out of all the women at the club, and was so entranced by you even in his drunken state that he paid hundreds of thousands for a piece of jewelry for you. you had to give yourself some props for that.

a few hours pass before you end up with another piece of the puzzle, arguably the most important one of all. atsumu decided that if you had nothing better to do than rack your brains for memories, then you could at least enjoy the amenities of the high-class hotel you were staying in while you chat and get to know each other better. he takes you down to the in-house spa, to relax in the hot tub and maybe get a massage, where someone gives you a very substantiating piece of evidence, so to speak. you’re in line for check in to the spa when the worker sees you approaching, big smile on his face when the two of you finally reach his desk.

“ah, mr. miya! and the now mrs. miya! are you two here for your newlyweds package?” the man is practically beaming as he congratulates you and shakes atsumu’s hand, commending him on securing a woman as beautiful as yourself and it has you in shock, blushing and trying hard not to look like you never expected him to say that. atsumu is careful with his words, not wanting to burst the clearly excited man’s little bubble of joy.

“ah, uh- yeah, right, thanks! how-how’d ya know about that exactly?” the man laughs and you’re not sure how good of a sign that is.

“well, you came in here last night practically shouting it from the rooftops! said how happy you were to be married to the most gorgeous woman you’d ever seen in your life. said some other things, too, but i, uh- i won’t repeat those.” he sends a wink to the two of you and the feeling in your face is so hot you’re sure they could heat the rocks they use in the spa on you. atsumu handles it well, though, nodding and smiling right along like he always knew about this. he sets up the check-in quickly after that, leading you away towards the changing rooms. he sends you in to get changed with promises to convene about the new information when he meets you on the other side.

your hands are shaking as you change out of the shirt atsumu had given you, one you realize has his name on the back and that sure doesn’t make you feel any less like his wife now. you can’t believe it’s true, you’d actually gotten drunk and married a man. not just a man, actually, but the miya atsumu. you thought this type of thing only happened in the movies but clearly not because you’re living it right now, right this very minute. you finish undressing down to your underwear as you were woefully unprepared for this situation, so you have no swimsuit to wear. you wrap a towel around yourself and slip into your complimentary slippers before heading out of the changing room and into the hot tub area. you’re removing your towel and placing your belongings on an empty set of chairs and a table when there’s a whistle behind you and when you look up, your husband atsumu is there, drinking you in with his eyes, same way he drank in the multitude of drinks that got you into this situation. that is to say, in large gulps.

“well, would ya look at my pretty little wife! i gotta be the luckiest guy in here, huh?” you roll your eyes with a coy smile, playfully blowing him a kiss as he drops his own stuff beside yours. he approaches you, impressive stature towering over you as his warm hand cups your jaw, eyes trailing down from your lips to the marks strewn across your body, like a roadmap of his desire, before they come back up to meet your gaze. “that guy sure was right, think ya gotta be the most beautiful woman i’ve ever seen. no wonder i had to get ya a ring as soon as possible.” you blink in surprise, sheepishly grinning at the man that stands before you.

“and you call me a charmer..go take a look in a mirror and we’ll see which one of us is the lucky one here, husband.” he laughs boisterously, thumb sweeping over your bottom lip and he pats your cheek. “ya give as good as ya get. like that about ya.” his words come out soft as cotton, and is it wrong that you want to kiss him right now? if this is how he’d be as a husband, you aren’t sure you even want to fix this situation. you like the way he looks at you, like he truly believes you’re the most beautiful person in the world and you kinda want him to look at you like that for years to come. god, you can’t believe yourself, falling in love in 5 minutes with a man you’d only met the night before. he just makes it so fucking easy.

you’re left standing there for a moment as he winks at you before slipping in to the hot tub, and it’s hard to explain to yourself how you feel, so you decide not to for the time being. you still have questions that need to be solved, now knowing how you met and that you are, in fact, married to atsumu, so you climb into the hot tub with him to relax your brain and see what else you can try to piece together. a moan leaves you as you sink in to the hot water, closing your eyes as you lean back against the tub and atsumu watches you, arms splayed out against the lip of the tub and a part of him wonders why you’re sitting so far away. you are his wife, after all, and that part of him thinks you should be pressed up against him so that the warmth he’s feeling isn’t just from the water. there’s a long while of relaxation, at least 20 minutes of steamy hot bliss before one of you breaks the silence again.

“so, husband, what’s the plan? should we find out where we got married next, or are we on to planning the honeymoon?” you don’t open your eyes when you speak so you can’t see the way atsumu looks at you, like he actually is ready to take you on a trip and consummate his marriage again. he almost doesn’t even care how the two of you’d gotten into this situation anymore, just happy that he’s in it with you. he can picture you, on the sidelines at his games, wearing his jersey and cheering him on and when he wins for you, he rushes over and kisses your breath away. he sees you in his kitchen when he comes home from a long trip and he drops his bags and his jaw at the sight of you, tiny t-shirt and tinier panties as you dance around, baking some confectionery that isn’t nearly as sweet as he thinks you are. he’d never given a lot of thought to marriage but now he is, now he wants it, but only if it’s with you, with your pretty face as the background of his phone, with your smile greeting him when he comes home, with your moans all gasping and breathy in his ear as his cock hits deep inside of your most sensitive parts every night.

“atsumu? you still there?” your voice shakes him out of his head and you’re eyeing him with a curious look, lip between your teeth and it’s truly taking everything in him not to drag you back up to his suite and have you crying his name as you leak all over his dick.

“ah, yeah, sweet thing, ‘m sorry, i was jus’ thinkin’.” his lips are upturned into a smirk and it has you sliding a few inches closer to him, sweet smile on your lips and oh, how he wants to rail that look right off of your face. “‘bout what? c’mon, you can tell me anything, i mean, we are married, right?” you chuckle. he thinks for a moment before he makes a decision, strong hands pulling you in to straddle his lap and you squeal in surprise, huffing out a laugh as you place your arms around his neck to stabilize yourself.

“jus’..thinkin how much of a shame it is that i can’t remember how good yer pussy was, how loud i made ya moan fer me last night, how sweet i bet ya tasted on my tongue.” atsumu wishes he could take a picture of the look on your face as you take in his filth, as you feel his cock stiffening under your ass. your wide eyes dart away from his and there’s a shy little “oh” that leaves you. you hadn’t expected something so..lewd- so downright vulgar- to leave his mouth but you can’t lie and say it’s not something you’ve thought about, too. for as much of your thoughts have been sweet- images of him holding you close while you watch films, sipping sake and feeding each other sweets on your anniversary, they’ve been indecent, as well. wondering what positions he’d put you into last night, wondering how pretty his brown eyes look when they stare at you from between your thighs, mouth too busy on your slippery cunt to make his teasing little quips. you let your eyes meet his again and you decide on boldness as your response, leaning in so close your lips almost brush his when you speak.

“wanna find out?”

atsumu couldn’t have stopped himself if he tried, pressing that quarter inch closer to surge your lips together, and it’s so obscene how he kisses you, so utterly salacious, all tongue in your mouth and teeth on the swell of your bottom lip. his hand comes up to hold your cheek and the other finds the curve of your ass under the water, groping and squeezing as much flesh as he can fit in his palm. he’s such a nasty man- large hand slowly guiding you back and forth on his lap, the grind of your pussy against him, against the length of his cock, only separated by thin layers of fabric. even through your underwear and his shorts you can feel the ridges and veins of his hard on, feel how long he is, how thick, and a moan gets swallowed up into the kiss, but neither of you are sure who it came from. the swap of spit goes on for a bit, teeth clinking in your shared hunger for one another before he separates you, thin string of someone’s saliva serving as a connection between you two, what you’d been up to in the hotel hot tub.

“ya gonna let me take ya upstairs, baby? need’ta make my wife’s hot little pussy cream all over me, need’ta feel ya.” there’s a haze in your eyes as you nod, real thoughts no longer occupying your brain, only atsumu now- atsumu’s cock, atsumu’s mouth, atsumu’s cum. you share one last sloppy kiss before you’re climbing off of his lap, stumbling your way out of the hot tub and hurrying to collect your things from the table. he’s not far behind you, slapping your ass as you bend over to grab your borrowed shirt and sandals. the two of you dry off quickly and wrap your towels tightly around yourselves, exchanging heated gazes as you bypass the changing rooms altogether and head straight for the elevators. you thank whatever god may be listening as you see you’re alone on the trip up to atsumu’s suite and he must’ve been too because he’s back on you the second the doors close. he’s got you pressed against the wall, your thigh hiked up to his hip and calloused fingers around your throat in a gentle squeeze, tongue in your mouth again and you’ve never been more grateful to be on a floor so high. you see now exactly how you ended up as his wife. how could you not be when he kisses you like you’re holding the last oxygen in the world, grinding his hips into yours like he needs the friction to keep warm? his mouth, hot and demanding in its claim on you, traces a line down from your lips to your throat, this time the opposite side of where he’d imprinted on you last night and it has breathy moans and gasps escaping you, fingers gripping those strong shoulders as he sucks and bites more marks into your flesh.

“f-fuck, ‘tsumu, want you so bad..” you sigh, hips moving in accord with his own, and you wonder if he can feel the dampness seeping through the thin layer of your panties. your neck is craned so far back you’re sure it’ll ache later, but you can’t be worried about that now, not when atsumu’s lips are at your ear, kissing the shell of it, tugging the lobe between his teeth.

“don’t worry, baby, yer gonna have me real soon. gonna fuck my sweet little wife so good, fuck, ‘m dyin’ to get my cock inside ya again.” and it’s not long before he’s making good on his promise. as soon as the elevator dings he’s lifting your other leg, long fingers digging into your thighs as he carries you down the halls to his suite, and god, he’s so strong- so secure in his hold on you, you just know he could do it with one hand if he wanted. he gets you in his room and kicks the door shut with his foot, dropping you onto the bed before dropping himself to his knees before you.

you’re perched up onto your elbows as you watch him and you gasp out a laugh when his impatience has him ripping your panties instead of pulling them off, kissing on your quivering inner thighs with promises to buy you new ones. he’ll buy you as many pairs as you want. hell, he’d buy you anything you want, he thinks, because the moment he gets a taste of your drooling cunt he knows he’ll never be satisfied with another flavor again. you’re sweeter on his tongue than he could’ve ever guessed and fuck, if you tasted this good last night he knows he made the right choice with his drunken proposal. your head falls back between your shoulders as he eats away- licking, slurping, sucking on your clit, on your pretty little pussy lips. the way you cry out for him has him never wanting to stop, wanting to stay glued between your legs forever as long as he gets to hear the way your moans get so whiny when his tongue flicks at your clit just right.

“ohmygod, ‘tsumu, just like that, right-right there, please,” you whimper, leaning your head back up to look at him and wow, is he pretty like this. his eyes are closed, lost in you- your taste, your smell, your essence. atsumu thinks there’s no better drug than this, than the way your slick little hole flutters on his tongue when he dips the muscle inside of you. your fingers are carding through his soft blonde locks, giving his roots a sharp tug when his teeth lightly catch your clit.

“oh! oh, f-fuck, i’m so close, gonna cum,” you whimper, legs shaking on their perch of his shoulders and you didn’t think he could suck on your clit harder but god, he does. your chest is heaving and your free hand scrambles for purchase in the expensive sheets and you’re there, falling over the edge, eyes squeezed shut and thighs clamping down around his head. he tongue-fucks you through it, thumb coming up to stimulate your sticky clit and it’s almost too much, too good. he’s moaning into you almost as loud as you’re moaning for him, savoring every little morsel of you that he can get like a man starved. when your eyes finally open again they fall on his face and he’s staring up at you, lips shiny and chin damp with your release and your skin feels so, so hot to be in.

“there she is,” atsumu grins boyishly, lips pressing against the crease of your thigh and hip, “fuck, ya taste so good. my pretty wife, so perfect and sweet.” he gently pulls your legs from his shoulders and rises from his knees, coming to lean over you on the bed. he kisses you slow, tongue forcing it’s way into your mouth to give you no choice but to taste yourself and you can’t help the whine that he swallows right up. he slides you further back on the bed, nimble hands slipping down to drop his shorts and oh, you can feel the hot mushroom head of his cock, damp and sticky with precum, nudge against your clit when he climbs between your thighs.

“ya ready for me, sweet thing? ‘m gonna fill ya up, need ya to take it all f’me,” he says against your lips and you nod desperately, knowing you’d take anything he was willing to give you. he presses one last gentle kiss to your lips before he’s leaning back, one hand on your waist and the other on the base of his cock, guiding his length to your dripping hole. he breaches you with the tip and fuck, does it feel good already, but then he’s sheathing inch after inch inside of you and your lips form a perfect ‘o’.

“my god,” he groans, “yer so fuckin’ tight. perfect little pussy on my perfect little wife. ya feel that? ya feel how deep i am?” your eyes are fluttering but you try hard to keep them open, meeting his own and you can’t even speak, just another nod in response because opening your mouth only has a gasping moan leaving you. he gives you a brief second to adjust, but really it’s for him too, your walls so warm and slick that he has to take a moment to breathe through it so he doesn’t blow his load immediately. but once that second is over, he’s dragging his cock back out of you, enough so that only the tip resides inside of you and when he fucks back into you, it punches your breath from your lungs. he starts a pace one could only call determined- determined to hit that spongy little spot inside of you, determined to have you creaming all over his cock, determined to make nothing but his name fall from your lips.

“ohhmyygodddd, ‘tsumu!! you’re s-so big, feel you s’deep ins-side me,” you cry, hands on his forearms as your nails dig deep into the flesh. atsumu doesn’t mind it, though- too wrapped up in how your hot cunt around him makes this wet, squishy sound when he slides in and out of you.

“yeah, baby? ‘m i fuckin’ ya good? ‘m i f-fuckin’ this sweet little pussy the way ya like?” his voice is heavy with lust and unconstrained need, hips smacksmacksmacking against yours with vigor. your answer to him comes out slurred, high-pitched and so fucked out already. “yesss, nngh, s-so good, so fucking good!”

his hands grip under your knees, pushing your thighs back against your chest in a mating press and fuck, if you thought he was deep before, you hadn’t seen anything yet. his cock is hitting places inside of you that you’d previously thought impossible, salty little drops forming in your lash line and when you blink your eyes open, you think you see heaven. it’s atsumu- blonde hairs sticking to his forehead, chest glistening with little droplets of sweat, face contorted in a blend of pleasure and concentration as he carves his cock through your insides. there’s no air in your lungs, no thoughts in your head, nothing in your eyes but want. he catches your gaze on him and a grin splits his lips and oh yeah, you’re so over. you have no choice but to be in love with him, with your husband.

“mmh, what a pretty little thing, lookin’ a’me like that. bet ya look even prettier cummin’ on my cock, huh?” his thrusts slow but they don’t lose intensity, only growing harder in place of speed. the hands on your thighs leave to find your own hands, lacing your fingers together as he presses you deep into the mattress. his face comes down to yours, lips practically meshed as he fills your ears with more deliciously pornographic words.

“‘m not lettin ya go, baby. n-no, ‘m gonna keep ya as my lovely little wife, fuck ya like this every goddamn day. y’feel so good- fuck, so wet and tight for me. can’t let ya go, can’t let anyone else have ya. give ya anything, give ya the whole w-world long as ya keep givin’ me this slutty. little. pussy. oh, yer squeezin’ me, baby, y’like the sound of that, huh? gettin’ fucked nice ‘n deep ‘n full every day, bein’ my good girl, my wife?”

your lecherous moans and hiccups of his name in his ear have him driving his hips into you with more and more force, and you can’t even tell him how hard you’re about to cum. he knows though- knows when your back arches up, when your tits press against his chest, when your squelching little cunt grips him so tight he can barely move. he knows you’re cumming for him when a scream of his name tears from your throat and your fingernails leave crescents on the back of his hands. and atsumu is so giving, keeps on grinding his hips into you to get you through it, keeps spilling his erotic promises against your lips.

“oh, fuck- yeah, that’s it- that’s my good girl.. gonna make ya cum like this til ya can’t, til yer pretty voice is gone and ya can’t scream for me anymore.” there’s nothing but truth in his words, his athlete’s stamina keeping his thrusts into you just as ruthless as when he started. the folded-up position he’s got you in, in combination with an orgasm so powerful, has you seeing stars, the man on top of you practically fucking into your womb with his depth. you feel him on your neck, his pink tongue out to chase a rogue droplet of sweat and good god, is he so filthy. there’s no denying it for you, though, just how much you like it. there’s no denying it for him, either, with how your cushy walls clamp down around him as you moan so wantonly.

never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d be here, tears swimming in your eyes as you watch atsumu bring a leg up over his shoulder, pressing kisses to the soft skin of your calf while his hips continue their swivel. he fucks you like he can see inside of you- like he can see just where that delicate little point inside of you resides with a target on it, thick tip of his cock driving against it over and over and over again. you’ve cum around him 3 times now, or maybe it was 4. your brain was so fogged with lust that it was hard to keep track. but atsumu had patience, he had the strength to hold himself off from filling you up with his cum until you were crying for it, begging for it. but he felt so good inside of you that you didn’t want it to end yet- desperate to feel the same ache in your hips that you’d felt last night.

atsumu’s kiss was miles away from the way he fucked you, lips on yours so gently and lovingly that if you couldn’t see your other halves, you’d have no idea that he was fucking into your searing hot core so roughly- so brutally. he gave your kiss-swollen bottom lip a tug before he parted from you, hissing as he pulls his cock out of you. you watch him as you catch your breath, allowing yourself to be jostled around when he comes to lay on his side beside you, wrapping one of those strong arms around you to drag you up against his chest. he lifts your thigh and mutters in your ear an instruction for you to hold it up and his hand comes down, guiding his dick back inside of you and it has your head falling back against him, mewls leaving your lips and groans leaving his.

“never gonna get tired of this pussy, baby. y’get so wet for me, fuck- swear i could drown in it. ‘m gettin’ so close, gonna give ya all my cum, ‘n ya gotta take it, okay? gotta keep it all in this hot little pussy of yers. ya gonna do that? y’gonna be a good girl for me and keep it all in?” the demands he murmurs into your ear make your cunt clutch onto him all the more tighter, breathing harsh and ragged as you nod.

“yeah, baby, ‘m gonna keep it all in- ah! please, please, need it- need you to give it to me. want your cum so bad, ‘tsumu..i-i’m so close, don’t stop, please.” there’s a burn in your hamstring from the way your thigh is hiked up into the air but you don’t care, atsumu is gonna give you his cum and that’s all that matters to you. his slender, calloused fingers caress your body, moving from your waist, to the swell of your tits that bounce from the force of his thrusts, all the way down to your puffy little clit. he plays with you expertly and you cry out that he’s got you close, gonna make you cum again and he didn’t need you to tell him that, can feel your cunt spasming around his cock and fuck, he’s close, too.

“hold it f’me, pretty, just a second, f-fuck, wanna cum together, need’ta feel ya squeezin’ the cum outta my cock,” he sighs. it’s so hard, so hard to hold out but you do it and it’s worth it in the end. when those lips on your ear say “cum for me, angel” and his hips lose their rhythm, cock inside you twitching away as he spills rope after rope of milky white into you, it’s worth it. you throat is raw at this point, has been for some time, and yet a hoarse scream still makes it’s way out of you, cunt convulsing as you milk him for everything he’s got.

a few minutes pass, though someone could’ve told you it was an hour and you’d believe them, and the two of you still lie there, sticky and sweaty and so fucking gratified. atsumu keeps you close to him, keeps his lips pressed to your throat and you finally feel yourself coming back to reality.

“y’good, baby? ‘s it alright if i leave ya for a second? gonna get ya some water and get a bath ready, won’t take long, okay?” you still can’t speak, fighting an internal battle with yourself to even keep your eyes open so you just nod, and atsumu leaves a kiss on your shoulder before he eases his softened cock out of you with a whine on your part, sweetly shushing you as he climbs out of bed. you don’t even realize that you fell asleep until he comes back, and you realize with a start that you’re being lifted from the bed. you get your eyes back in focus to see atsumu looking down at you, ever-present smile on his face as he carries you off to the bathroom to clean you. the two of you sit in the tub, your back against a much sturdier chest, warmth of the water soothing your aching muscles and abused cunt.

atsumu is as good a husband as he is a lover, lifting a glass of water he’d already prepared to your lips and he’s gentle with his hands when he rubs you down with a soapy cloth. he whispers about how good you were for him- how he wasn’t lying or just saying it to say it, how he really wants to try to make this work with you. you have no objection to it, you figure if you’d want to marry anyone in the world, it might as well be a man so sweet- so kind and giving, so passionate about everything he touches, including you.

your bath is cold soon after the two of you are clean and he brings you back to bed, dries you off and helps to dress you in another one of his shirts that you swim in. he does something else, too. he sits beside you, cups your face with a strong hand and kisses you softly, before he reaches for your left hand, smiling serenely at you as he slides the ring you’d taken off earlier back onto your finger. you grin at his display, squeezing his hand in yours as you find his lips again, no lust or overwhelming desire in it, just the feeling of something like love blossoming between you two- the newlyweds, mr. and mrs. miya atsumu.

>authors_note: i have no idea how this ended up at 7k+ but husband!atsumu just does that to me 😅 hope y’all enjoy!! kinda have ideas for a part 2 so if you’re interested in that lmk!

>thank you for reading ♡

>masterlist.exe

>requests are now LIVE!

© loko4koko 2023

[luvrxbunny]

fries

Pairing: Steve Harrington x F!Reader

Prompt: Semi-Public Sex

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, handjob, teeny bit of praise (lmk if I forgot anything)

WC: 1.6k

A/N: couldn’t figure out how to end this *crying in the distance*

You’ve all been drinking and smoking- more drinking than smoking. You all smoked on the way over here, hot-boxing Eddie’s van and stressing Steve- the driver- out. You made up to him by promising to be the designated driver tonight, but plans fell through when Eddie coaxed you into drinking with him. 

Luckily, Nancy was much more responsible than the rest of you, she didn’t even come out tonight, saying she had work or assignments to do- who knows. She offered to pick you all up whenever you were ready to go home, preferring to get you all at 2 AM than let any of you drive drunk. So you were uninhibited, taking multiple breaks to smoke in Eddie’s van before coming back into the bar for more drinks. 

You’re all sitting in a half-moon booth, you’ve ordered fries for yourself, getting extreme munchies from whatever strain Eddie currently has. Robin, Eddie, and Steve are all talking about something else, some band that Eddie doesn’t think deserves to make music..? Or something like that? All you’re focused on is how criminally unseasoned these fries are. 

You look around the table for salt but get distracted by Steve. He looks amazing tonight, he looks amazing every night, if we’re being honest. His hair is its usual, incredible, caramel brown color and his eyes are shining with the passion of his conversation. His hands are veiny, his thick fingers pointing accusingly at Eddie as he shouts about whatever band. His biceps are bulging with how hard he’s pointing, making the sleeves of his collared shirt pulled tight over his skin. You’re counting the moles up his neck when he turns to you, his thick eyebrows un-tensing when he notices your staring. His chocolate brown eyes soften when he takes in the small smile resting on your lips. 

You try to calm down and play it off like you aren’t madly in love with him but it doesn't quite work, it just manifests itself differently. “Can you pass me the salt, loverboy?” 

His eyes go wide. 

You try not to act too embarrassed at the words that have left your mouth. You’ve never called him that before, you’re worried that you feel much more for him than he feels for you so you try to limit yourself to ‘babe’ and ‘baby’.

You know how Steve used to be, you know he used to date around, that he was one of the most sought-after guys in high school, which is why it was a bit shocking when he confessed to you. You were never really popular, you’d see Steve around school but never really got involved, and you only showed up in your junior year. You cruised by unnoticed by almost the entire student body, except for the Hellfire club… and Steve apparently. He’d fallen for you in your limited time at Hawkins, he’d spoken to you here and there, simple interactions to you but for Steve, they meant a lot. You didn’t even realize he was pursuing you until graduation when he confessed. 

It’s been a year now and he’s just staring at you silently. You looked away from him in embarrassment but you’re forced to look back due to his silence. Eddie and Robin are still arguing, moving on without Steve and you’re looking at him again, trying not to pass out at his cuteness as you watch a blush spread over his face. 

He stays silent as he reaches across the table blindly, still staring at you as he grips what he rightly assumes is the salt and hands it to you. “Thank you, baby.” His brows furrow for a moment as he seems to blink back to life. 

“Loverboy?” He questions softly. You already turned your attention back to your fries when he speaks. He looks a bit sad, almost scared. “Sorry, what?” You say with a light giggle, hoping to bring his mood up from whatever brought it down. 

He scoots toward you in a way that’s just too adorable, the way he looks down at the bench to ensure there’s room for him before smiling up at you timidly and pulling himself closer. “I’m… I’m loverboy?” His tone brings a smile to your face as you turn back to your fries.

“Yeah. You’re my loverboy! And- and I’m your lovergirl! If you want I mean. I don’t know it’s- It’s so dumb.” You laugh nervously at his continued silence. “I think I heard it somewhere? It’s a thing I think. I don’t really know, it just came into my head I guess.” His hand comes to your thigh with a tight grip to stop your rambling. You take a bite of your fry before turning to him. 

His face is red. You’ve actually never seen him so red. He’s panting a bit as he lowers to you. You stare at him wide-eyed as you eat your fries, his eyes are flicking from your lips to your eyes and back down as you chew.  His lips are on yours the second you finish chewing, he’s whining and moaning into your mouth a bit louder than he should and you can’t help but smile against his lips. 

“W-what’s this f-” He cuts you off with another kiss, pushing your head into his mouth with a groan and you melt into him. His lips are a bit frantic against yours, they taste like weed, beer, and butter from the popcorn this bar has been serving. His tongue is soft and smooth as it slides into your mouth, pressing itself to the roof and gliding over yours with a moan before he pulls away. You’re delirious from the kiss, slow to open your eyes, and smiling the moment you do. His face has somehow turned an even deeper crimson color and his hands are rubbing the sides of your face, caressing you as he leans down to bury his face in your neck. You giggle at the action and he groans.

“I love it.” His voice is breathy and muffled but you can hear him perfectly. It takes you a second to realize what he means but the moment you do, you feel a heat spread throughout your body. You’re always sensitive for him, even more so when you’re high and extra needy when you’re drunk. Steve is the same way. 

He’s already scooting even closer to you, now pressing his boner into your thigh. “Call me it again? Say it again, baby. Lovergirl, fuck. Say it again.” He’s starting to slowly grind himself into your thigh and you look over to where Robin and Eddie were sitting. You notice they’ve ditched you both for a game of darts, very engrossed in it, giving you the perfect opportunity. 

You reach for Steve’s buckle immediately and earn a gasp from him. He leans back, giving you more access to his pants but holds a shocked look on his face. “What’re you doing, honey? Shit. Here?” You smile at him eagerly as you stick your hand into his pants, gripping his cock where it rests in his briefs. His hips twitch up into your hand, and his hand slides from the side of your face to behind your head as he pulls your lips to his, moaning into your mouth as you play with his slit, bringing more pre-cum to spill from him. 

He has to pull away to whimper your name as you begin to pump him. “What is it, loverboy?” He moans at the nickname, thrusting his dick further into your hand and begging you to go faster. “You’re so cute, Steve, such a sweet guy.” He whines your name on repeat like a prayer before pulling his head out, letting you see his face, how pink it is, and how desperate he looks. “Love y’so much, feels so good. You’re so dirty, baby. T-touching me in front of- holy shit.” He moans and kisses you briefly before pressing his forehead against yours, his hair tickling the apple of your cheeks. “In front of our friends like this. So good.”

His eyelids are fluttering as he tries to open them, to look at you as you pleasure him. You can tell his words are affecting him more than you, his hips starting to grind up into your hand, his hands trying to pull you closer to his face as he begins to whine for you. “I’m gonna cum, lovergirl.” 

A smirk grows over his face as the pet name rolls off his tongue, pulling a whine from you as you force his lips against yours. You moan into his mouth, groaning as you rub your tongue over his. His hips begin to stutter in their rhythm and you pull back. “Cum for me, loverboy.”

Steve lets out a last choked moan and starts cumming. You can feel his cock, tense, and pulse in your hand as he cums. His stomach tensing in time with his muffled moans, getting stuck in his mouth, behind his bitten lip. He’s forcing his eyes open now, willing them to keep your contact as he covers your fist in his cum. He curls in on himself with a groan as his cock spits out the last thick rope from his sensitive tip. 

He’s shaking as he huffs out slow breaths, trying to calm himself as you stroke his hair softly. He rests his head on your shoulder, panting your name with a light chuckle when you start pressing kisses to his head until he comes up. You start kissing all over his face then, ignoring his little giggles for you to stop, only listening when he grips the sides of your head with a beaming smile and kisses you. 

“Guys! Robin keeps cheating!” Eddie calls for you both in a teasing sing-song voice, jogging toward the booth. 

“You can’t cheat at darts.” Robin shouts back, laughing at him as she joins his journey over here. They’re arguing again by the time they reach the table, not noticing your struggle to pull your hand from Steve’s pants without getting cum on his shirt. 

“Guys, stop arguing. I’m calling Nancy.” Steve states with a hilariously stern tone. You laugh at the three of them as the duo begs Steve not to call her. 

Thank you so mcuh for reading! If you enjoyed, here's the rest of my Kinktober Works and be sure to check out my Main Masterlist!!

[dyeher]

High Stakes| Ran H.

Includes| secret agent! Ran Haitani x secret agent! Reader

Warnings| fem! reader, violence, murder, mentioned gambling, implied harassment, guns, mirror sex, dry humping, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, choking, creampie, dirty talk, multiple orgasms.

Notes| mwah! another repost.

Ran is making plans to return to the Bloody Lotus when he’s not working. Bright eyes scan the clientele, and fingers drum the side of his glass, he decides he likes the energy. Rich people are always eager to spend their earnings, to show off their pregnant coin purses and boast about investments and returns and how they’ve recently deprived the world of another useless piece of art that costs more than it has any right to. Rich people paired with alcohol makes this place a breeding ground for ‘Too Much Information’. Ran affectionately calls it TMI, and it’s the reason he’s here tonight. To collect some of that.

When he returns though, when he’s off the clock, he’ll be here for the pretty call girls and the lacquered cards that are screaming his name. Absently he raises his glass to his lips. Tonight he is not Ran Haitani, Agent 001. Tonight he is simply Ran Haitani, one of Japan’s most eligible bachelors, and a potential investor in whatever business venture Izana Kurokawa has cooked up.

He glances around the lobby, careful not to make eye contact with you as the balding man’s hand snags on the exposed flesh of your upper thigh. Ran’s grip on his glass tightens reflexively. He reminds himself that if he kills Lorano now they’re fucked and you would’ve been groped for no reason. He remains quiet, pretending to take in the brightly lit room with its marbled floor and high ceiling.

To his left is the entrance to the VIP section where he’s currently perched at the bar. It’s a pair of glass doors flanked on either side by two large men dressed to the nines but sporting firearms. Through the glass, he can see regular patrons, the upper-middle-class dressed in their best and whispering to each other over glasses of overpriced champagne. Some are gambling their way down the social ladder without really paying any attention to it.

To his right is the entrance to Izana’s private quarters. Well, for the most part. To his right actually stands a set of hand-carved mahogany double doors. Those doors don’t lead anywhere. Behind them is an elevator leading to the rooftop of this fine establishment and the only true way to access Izana’s quarters is from the rooftop entrance. A little way off from those doors is a simple nondescript door that leads to the stairwell on the inside of the building. The stairwell gets as high as the private rooms of Izana’s friends. If all went well Ran would be on that floor within the hour.

He’s brought out of his reverie when you warble spilling a little of the drink in your tray onto Lorano. He’s impressed by your ability to mold into any character as he listens through the earpiece. You lay on a faux Italian accent, as you scramble to apologize that immediately has Lorano perking up, and Ran has to sip from his glass to cover his disgust when one of the buttons on the man’s shirt pops open at the movement.

Izana dresses his female employees in the most ridiculous things. Tonight’s number is a sheer black leotard, the front covered in some sort of stitched design that just barely covers your breasts, the back so low it dips beneath the band of the too-tight, too-short black skirt paired with it. The shoes are strappy and wound all the way up to above your knee. The heel and platform are so high that Ran winces internally as he watches the ease with which some of these girls can maneuver the tables and crowd in them.

He’s whispering to you in rapid-fire Italian, things Ran wishes he didn’t understand, promises to treat you right, questions about how long you’ll be working for. His grubby hands trail down to your thigh when you bend across him to replace his drink and even from this distance Ran can see the way your fingers on the tray flex.

An irrational amount of pride swells in his gut when your smile doesn’t even waiver, and for a second he’s so transfixed he almost doesn’t hear when one of Lorano’s lackeys bends into his other ear to let him know Izana was ready for him. Ran’s heart slows, his eyes locking with yours as he starts moving. Based on Wakasa’s intel Izana’s meetings are held on the roof, and there should be a viewing room on that floor. Only one elevator goes to that floor and it requires either Izana’s Identification card or the code, a code only he knows. Ran subtly adjusts the face of his watch, a beautiful Patek Phillipe piece he’d paid Inui out of pocket to have modified. He chuckles when he reaches the door of the stairwell and Wakasa’s voice filters through his ear.

“I think I threw up in my mouth a little when Lorano asked if she eats ass,” Ran can hear Wakasa’s shudder. He uses the knuckle on his index to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose, activating the screen on the camera on the left screen. “Take a step back Ran, need to see the entire door.” Ran shuffles back feigning glancing at the floor in front of the door and then back up. “Thank you,” Wakasa says, and Ran fidgets as he begins to count down in his head. “You ready big guy? You have thirty seconds to climb three flights of stairs before the camera’s auto-reboot.”

Ran glances to his left and right quickly before nodding. “Go.”

He doesn’t even register the door slamming behind him as he flies up the stairs. He’s mastered the art of running in suits at this point. His chain lifts with his movements until finally, he catches the pendant between his teeth to stop it. He uses the rail to hoist himself up, taking the stairs four at a time until the leather sole of his shoe lands on the dark marble of the top floor. He skids a little, catching himself on the wall. “Twenty-six seconds,” Wakasa tells him. “Not bad.”

Ran chuckles. “You talk too much Wakasa. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“You,” Wakasa retorts. “Every time we work together.”

“Lorano’s on his way up,” your voice interrupts them both. “And I’m coming with him.”

Ran tenses. “That was not part of the fucking plan,” he says as he stalks the length of the hall. He passes his room, heading for the elevator. He watches as the numbers change.

“Yeah but it’s smarter than the original,” Wakasa admits. “If she gets up there Izana’ll send her back down because employees aren’t allowed on that floor. Which means she’ll control the elevator.”

Ran curses, because Wakasa’s right. “Fuck.” He watches as the elevator gets to the top floor and then ten minutes later he watches as it begins its descent. The impromptu change works and Ran finds himself face to face with you not thirty seconds later.

“Camera’s are down,” Wakasa announces. “Double-loop so it looks like she came off the elevator. Shouldn’t have any issues if no one is standing at the elevator doors.”

And no one is standing there. In fact, getting into the viewing area is too easy, not only that but they find that it’s not just a viewing area. Ran takes a good scan of the room following Wakasa’s instructions until they land on a row of computers and Wakasa almost moans in both your ears. It’s the central command.

“I despise Izana Kurokawa,” he hisses. “I hope he knows I’m praying for his downfall. Specifically, because this setup is so beautiful he doesn’t deserve it.”

Ran glances at you out of the corner of his eye and almost swallows his tongue when he finds you squatting at one of the outlets. Your ass stretches the material of the skirt and Ran has to force himself to look away as you get on your knees to press the switch. One of the older computers lights up next to Ran and Wakasa honest-to-gods giggles.

“Ran, plug the flash drive in there,” Wakasa instructs. “Turn it on and where is my beautiful little amateur hacker. Get your ass over here.”

Ran tunes in to the conversation between Izana and Lorano, looking out through the glass at them from his spot. Izana as always is dressed in some elaborate get up, his second in command stands to his left his arms folded and the disgust in his expression clear as he looks at Lorano.

“It’s quite simple,” Izana is saying. “You join me, I get control of your men, I pay you to speak when spoken to.”

Lorano looks torn. “It’s not that simple, my men will not respect me anymore,” he tries to explain.

“Lorano,” Izana coos. “Your men don’t pay you. Your men are ungrateful pigs. Your men are incompetent criminals. Your men are failures as men. Their respect for you isn’t worth hot shit even if it came from a god.” Izana’s men laugh and Ran winces at the shade of red Lorano turns. “Think about the respect you’ll earn from the rest of Japan when they find you’re associated with me.”

This seems to give Lorano pause and Ran scoffs. He wonders what Izana might have offered him if he planned to stick around long enough to hear.

“How much are you offering?” Lorano finally says.

“I’m offering you a salary,” Izana says slowly, in case Lorano misunderstood. “Not a percentage cut of the shit I make.”

Lorano swallows, and the microchip in the collar of his shirt picks up the sound extra loudly. Ran almost gags. “How much?”

“Five hundred thousand dollars a month,” Izana says and Ran is appalled at the way Lorano immediately agrees. He wonders if Lorano knows that he’s signing this document in his blood. And just as Ran expected when Izana verifies that Lorano has in fact signed over his properties and his men he opens his palm and Ran shifts when a gun is placed in it. “It was great doing business with you,” Izana frowns and Lorano doesn’t have time to scream before the gun goes off and his pudgy body is falling face first into his dinner, blood mixing with the delicacies on the plate. Ran’s thoughts are interrupted by Wakasa’s curse.

“What?” he snaps turning back to where you’re tapping away at the computer screen.

“You’ve got company,” Wakasa says quickly. “Fuck. Two incoming looks like Izana’s personal guard and the Head of Security.”

Ran’s head snaps to the door when he hears the telltale sounds of footsteps coming down the corridor. “How much longer, angel?”

You tap away at the keyboard rapidly. “We’re at 87%,” you scramble to type faster but Ran’s already dragging you away from the desk. “What the fuck are you—”

“You can punch me in the face afterward,” he whispers quickly. And then he’s kissing you. Tentatively at first, just a soft brushing of his lips that immediately has you relaxing in his hold. One large hand cups your face to angle your head better and the other dips into the base of your spine, curling you closer to him. His fingertips are warm as they trail the length of your spine. Goosebumps erupt on your skin and you shudder, your nipples pebbling in the thin material at the contact. You’re frozen, struck dumb by the gentleness of his kiss, eyes wide open so you see the way long lashes brush the tops of his cheeks.

Ran pulls back just far enough to growl against your mouth. “Kiss me back, angel.” And then he’s running the tip of his tongue along your bottom lip and they’re parting to let him in. His tongue is eager and warm and so soft as it brushes confidently at yours that your toes curl.

Your body presses closer to his, your hands winding around his shoulders as you kiss him back. It’s the consent he needed. The kiss grows intense, Ran’s tongue dipping farther, his head slanting to deepen the kiss. You’re suddenly reminded of your lack of underwear when Ran’s hand comes up to grasp the back of your head, the one cupping your face drops to your thigh as he backs you into the desk. He hoists you onto the surface easily, your body displacing the keyboard, and stack of papers next to it. His grip on your thigh slips to the back of your knee and he hikes it up around his waist, to slot himself between your legs, bending you back a little so you’re propped against the monitor.

“Fuck,” he groans when your fingers tangle in his hair. You tug his head back harshly, desperation making your movements a little rough as you press sloppy, lipstick stain kisses along the side of his neck and the column of his throat. You wonder if he’s wanted to do this as bad as you have. If he’s ever lost sleep thinking about the contours of your body the way you have. Or imagined the softness of your lips, the taste of your mouth, the feel of your hands on him. Because you’ve spent countless nights with your fingers between the folds of your pussy, rubbing circles into your clit imagining they’re Ran Haitani’s fingers or his tongue. Many nights with your dildo pumping furiously into you imagining it’s Ran Haitani’s cock molding and shaping your insides for him.

The guards are forgotten as Ran presses the length of his body to yours. The hard outline of his cock rubs into the damp crotch of your leotard when you finally bring your lips back to his. Your kissing becomes frantic and sloppy. Ran devours your mouth, fucking it with his tongue in a way you know he’d easily replicate in your cunt. Your body bucks when his fingers climb your thigh, his knuckles rubbing the sensitive skin as it inches higher. You moan into his mouth and Ran’s responding chuckle sends chills down your spine.

“Bet you’ve soaked through this flimsy thing,” he mumbles, lips not pulling away far enough for you to focus on his features. His kisses move from your lips down to your neck and throat. “Probably got a messy little pussy.”

You whine, arching as though you can get any closer than you already are. Your fingers catch in his jacket as you try to push them off his shoulders. Ran eases back just enough to free his arms, dropping the jacket next to you as he resumes his previous position. You get a glimpse of how well he fills out the silk shirt beneath and realize this isn’t enough. You want to feel his skin, you want to rake your nails down his back and mark him with your teeth. Just as you think this Ran’s teeth latch onto the erogenous area where your neck and shoulders meet. Your moan is absolutely wanton. You feel him shudder in your arms as he reaches for the strap of the onesie and rips it down your arm freeing one of your breasts for his hungry mouth. It’s only as you toss your head back, lips parted on a sigh at the gentle sucking of Ran’s mouth on your nipple, to give him better access to your body, that you see the two men in the doorway.

Your squeak of surprise is genuine as your hand scrambles to clutch Ran’s shoulders. The sound seems to snap both men out of their stupor and you watch as they straighten to their full height. Your mind clears quickly, embarrassment sinking like lead in the pit of your stomach at your actions. Ran’s grin is lazy, almost natural as he glances over his shoulder, you’re grateful for the width of him as he angles his body to block out whatever view they might’ve had of you. One of Ran’s hands still clutches your waist, his thumb rubbing soothing circles as though he knows you’re struggling to get it together.

“Gentlemen?” Ran’s smile falters perfectly, even the breathless hitch in his tone is staged. It feels like a bucket of ice water has been doused on you. Of course. Of course, none of this was real. He’d just saved both your asses. You wonder if he knows you weren’t acting. You tense in his arms and his grip on your waist tightens. “Can we help you?”

“You’re not supposed to be up here,” the shorter one says. Even from here, you can tell he’s the scarier and more than likely Izana’s head of security. Bleached buzzcut with parallel strips of his natural hair color running from the corners of his hairline back. You might’ve giggled at the fact that he resembled a tennis ball if he didn’t pull his gun. His eyes narrow when Ran frowns and glances at you.

“Sorry? Is this not the guest floor?” Ran’s confusion is so convincing you almost don’t feel when he slips the flash drive up your thighs. It takes all of your self-control not to react as his fingers dip into the sticky mess between your thighs and slide the flash drive flat across the crotch of the leotard. Your hand snaps out to clutch his arm and he chuckles. “She’s a needy thing,” he shrugs. “Couldn’t quite make it to my room.”

The taller one adjusts his glasses and steps into the room and Tennis ball follows him. “How’d you get up here, Mr. Haitani?”

Ran blinks at him like he’s stupid. “The elevator?” You squirm in his arms, playing your part as the brainless, shy employee, who’ll probably get in trouble for fraternizing with one of Izana’s VIP guests. Ran straightens to his full height, fixing the straps of your onesie and closing your legs as he turns to face both men. He stands a little shorter than the one with the glasses but he’s broader and you know that if this comes down to a fight you could take the taller one while Ran takes the other. “What’s really going on here? Have I done something wrong?” His tone is carefully accusing.

Glasses sighs through his nose. He knows there’s no way Ran should’ve gotten to this floor undetected but starting a fight with one of Izana’s friends is the last thing he needs to do right now. “This floor is off-limits to guests. They lead to Mr. Kurokawa’s private rooms.”

Ran’s expression morphs into a perfect mask of embarrassment and regret. You hope the horror in your expression as you clamber to your feet, swaying a little in your heels is convincing. “Ah, sorry,” he says, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. “Got a little distracted,” he motions with his thumb to you over his shoulder and you look away. “We can move.”

He reaches for his jacket when Tennis ball chips in. “Wait a minute,” he says, slipping his gun back into the holster. “You’re not leaving until we search you.”

Ran bristles as they expect him to, head jerking back like he’s been slapped. His jaw clenches, fingers flexing. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what I said Mr. Haitani,” Tennis ball snatches Ran’s jacket and passes it to Glasses who begins to rummage through the pockets. “Spread your legs for me.” Ran tenses but does as he’s told.

The flash drive feels like it’s weighing you down as Ran gets the all-clear and Glasses starts toward you. “Seriously?” Ran scoffs. “She’s half-naked, where the fuck would she hide anything?”

That seems to give both men pause. You make sure to shudder for good measure as they step aside. Ran grabs your arm glaring at both men as he drapes his jacket over your shoulders and guides you out of the room. Glasses follows after you, making a quick call for someone to send the elevator down before taking you both down to the VIP floor. “This is you,” he says nodding at Ran as he leads you out of the elevator.

Ran takes you to his room and as soon as the doors are closed you shrug off his jacket. Your heart is pounding in your chest. That could’ve gone horribly. Your hands are trembling as you wobble over to the spacious bathroom.

“You still make the prettiest sounds,” Wakasa’s voice comes over the earpiece, and you yelp, stumbling back and almost falling onto your ass. In the midst of everything it seems you’d both forgotten about Wakasa. “Didn’t mean to startle you,” he says gently. “Just thought you should know. They’re the still prettiest I’ve ever heard.”

“Wakasa,” you hiss. “Can Ran-

“He can’t,” Wakasa reassures you. “I muted us. I’m gonna take these off until you’re out of this room. In case, you want to finish what you started.” You open your mouth to argue that you were just trying to save your asses when Wakasa continues. “And before you tell me you were just trying to stay alive try to remember how well I know you.”

There’s a distinct click and you know Wakasa can no longer hear you. A tentative knock sounds on the door and Ran’s voice carries through the wood. “You good in there?” He asks. “We got what we came for, we can leave.”

His comment reminds you of his earlier actions and you immediately reach between your thighs and pull the slippery flash drive free, yank open the door and slap it against his chest. “Yeah,” you say giddily. “I’m about ready to go.” And then you haul your fist back and slam it into his nose. “Do not ever do some shit like that again,” you snap. “Next time we fucking kill them.”

Ran’s eyes darken, as he clutches his nose. It’s not broken but it hurts like a motherfucker and he’s not at all surprised when he inhales and it burns. His eyes water as he glares at you incredulously. “You’re not serious.”

“Deathly,” you say, releasing the flash drive so he has to scramble to catch it. It’s soaked in your arousal, the scent heady as he clutches it. You poke him in the chest. “If you ever, ever touch me like that again I’ll fucking kill you.”

Silence envelopes you for a few seconds and then Ran chuckles. You’re about to snap at him again when his hand wraps around your throat. “You’re so transparent,” he smirks. “I bet you’re not even mad I touched you.” He squeezes your throat, backing you into the bathroom and closing the door behind him. “You’re probably mad because we were interrupted,” he drops the flash drive on the counter. “Mad that you didn’t get to cum.” He’s slowly cutting off the blood flow to your head, his fingers pressing into the blood vessels on either side of your neck. “Wanted me to clean up the mess I made of your pussy?”

His free arm wraps around your waist and lifts you onto the counter, your hands immediately reach for the wrist of the hand around your throat, your nails dig into the soft flesh as he scoots back onto the counter and spreads your legs to make room for him. You’re dizzy by the time his grip loosens. “Answer me,” his voice softens to just above a whisper, his finger massaging your neck gently. “Do you want me to clean up the mess I made, angel? Is that what this is about?”

You almost shake your head but Ran gives you a look. Like he’ll know if you’re lying. Like you’d be an idiot to pass up this opportunity. So you nod, swallowing when he flashes you a beautiful smile. “Yeah? But I need to hear you say it,” he breathes. “Say ‘Please eat my pussy Ran’. Go on.”

His hand has reached your jaw and his thumb is rubbing distracting little circles into the side of your bottom lip as you repeat after him. A not of breathlessness in your voice. “Please- please eat my pussy Ran.”

His groan as he leans forward to kiss the spot he’d been rubbing has your heart rate increasing, the organ beating wildly at his words. “You don’t know how badly I need to taste you.” He drops to his knees, careful to work your feet out of your heels before he kisses the inside of one ankle and then your calf that he massages and then the inside of your knee and then the fat of your thighs until he’s propping that foot on the edge of the counter and then he does the same to the other. Showering them in kisses, massaging them until they’re jelly and then he’s easing your skirt over your thighs. Working it down to your ankles and discarding it next to him on the floor. He’s almost reverent. The way he treats your body, and it makes sense. Because it feels a lot like he’s worshipping you.

He takes a moment to take you in. The leotard is cut higher than he’d initially expected and he almost salivates as he watches you bring your legs back up to the counter, butterflying them open for him. An entire lip of your pussy has escaped the scrap of material that should be covering it. He can’t help himself when he leans forward to suck the poor flesh into his mouth. And the sound he makes when he finally gets your taste on his tongue makes butterflies erupt in your stomach. One hand wraps loosely around an ankle as he shuffles closer, his nose brushing into your cunt as he pulls back with a wet smack only to latch onto the ruined material between your thighs. His other hand rests in the juncture of your thigh, his thumb pulling apart your pussy. “Look how fucking pretty that is,” he whispers to himself, as strings of arousal stretch and snap each time he repeats the movement. “Fucking hell.”

You reach for his head, fingers sinking into his hair to tug him closer. “Fuck,” you whine. “Ran!” Your body bows when he pushes the material to the side and properly buries his tongue into your cunt. He fucks you with it like you imagine he’d fuck you with his cock. His head bobbing, nose bumping into your clit. He groans again at the rush of liquid that floods his mouth as you squirm.

Ran’s hands press your legs a little wider when he pulls back to spit on your cunt. He watches, eyes wide, lips parted and glistening with your arousal as the spit drips down to your entrance. He drops his head between your legs again just give your clit a soft kiss. He chuckles when you whine his name, your hold on him slackening when he dips the index of one finger into your cunt. Your body swallows him eagerly, your walls squeezing around the digit. He removes it to add another two to it, his brows furrowing as he watches the way your cunt struggles to take those three fingers. “Shit and you’re so fucking tight,” he groans.

You squeal when he stands, fingers still buried in your pussy, to kiss you. He swallows every little noise you make, every whine and gasp as he works your cunt open diligently. Maybe if you weren’t so distracted you might’ve questioned why he’d need to stretch you out this well. But you’re cumming with a soft keen of his name, shuddering in his arms as he fucks you through it. The sound your pussy makes when Ran finally pulls his fingers free makes you burn with embarrassment but the way he casually stuffs those fingers into his mouth, lids fluttering at your taste. He strips with one hand, dragging his silk shirt off and quickly undoing his belt buckle.

By the time his cock springs free you’ve wiggled your way out of the last piece of clothing and you’re dizzy with anticipation. Your first reaction is apprehension. Ran’s cock is thick and heavy, the weight enough to have it hanging between his thighs. He’s also a little longer than average with a fat mushroomed head. Your second reaction is desperation. Imagining the stretch of your pussy to accommodate his cock has you shuffling to the edge of the counter, eyes wide as you reach for his cock to rest it against your cunt.

“Shit,” Ran hisses when his cock makes contact with the slick lips of your pussy. He’s bucking his hips almost instinctively, one hand pressing his cock in place as he fucks your pussy lips steadily. And the picture Ran Haitani makes drunk on you before he’s even slid his cock inside you is enough to have your eyes watering. He’s beautiful. His hair in disarray, sticking to his forehead and standing askew from your hands, his lips swollen from your kisses, his skin flushed from his cheeks to his chest, and his eyes. Hooded and bright with an emotion you cannot identify.

You’re so distracted by him that you don’t register he’s shifted his cock down to your entrance until the head of his cock squeeze into your hole and you choke on a gasp. Ran kisses you then, a slow, deep affair that wipes your mind of any coherent thought. Your stomach flip flops when he pulls you closer to him, wrapping your legs around his body as he wraps his arms around you. The position is so intimate something pangs inside you. Every lap of Ran’s tongue coincides with an inch he’s fucked into you. You’re shaking when you feel his hips bump into your thighs and he’s still not stopped kissing you.

He fucks you there, in short strokes that rubs the head of his cock into your g spot. Kissing you until you can’t breathe and then barely giving you time to catch your breath as he proceeds to tell you about how good you feel. ‘Never felt a pussy like yours angel’, ‘’m never leaving you alone’, ‘’s my pussy now, the best pussy’, ‘tell me it’s mine, tell me it’s my pussy, please’. They’re a mix between a whine and a growl as he begs and grunts and threatens your life and the life of every other man you’ve fucked. It’s the sexiest thing you’ve ever encountered and your body agrees. When your orgasm slams into you you have to drag your lips away from Ran to scream. A garbled mix of his name and thanks, as he fucks you through it, his pace faltering, his hips stuttering as he chases his own high.

You’re both weak in the knees by the time Ran pulls out of you. The silence isn’t awkward as you clean each other up. “So my pussy is your huh?” you say later as you’re waiting in the conference hall for Wakasa and the rest of the team.

“Yeah,” he answers without missing a beat, expression brightening when he catches your smile. “And I really will kill you if you try anything stupid.”

Your smile falls. “What?”

“A bullet right between your eyes,” he holds up finger guns aiming one between your brows. “Pop. Pop,” he chuckles. “I dare you to act dumb.”

You can only swallow around the mounting arousal in your gut because you think you’ve known him long enough to know when he’s bluffing. And based no the slightly crazed look in his eye as Wakasa enters the room you know this is not one of those times.

[sebuckyverse]

for a good time, call [5]

modern!rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

series summary: Eddie Munson is a burnt out rockstar, touring the country. When he finds a phone number written on a bathroom wall, he strikes an unusual friendship with a coffee shop barista who has no idea who he is.

warnings: 18+ cussing, smut, p in v sex, protected + unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, oral (f! receiving), dirty talk, flirting, self-doubt, mutual pining, angst, strangers to friends to lovers; lmk if i missed anything word count: 8,2k damn

an: the final chapter!! i can't believe it's over, i'm sweating!! MERRY CHRISTMAS BABIES i hope you like it as always, pls let me know. don’t forget to reblog babes! <3 btw we can always do more blurbs and HC's about this fic, i am down for anything! and requests are open as well! mwah! also i wrote half of this on my phone sorry if it's shit

chapter four ♫ masterlist ♫ askbox

chapter five ♫♪♩·.¸¸

A lot of good things happened to Eddie last night. He closed a deal with his future new manager, starting their collaboration early in the new year when he fulfills his current contract and he would be free to leave. He had a long talk with his band when they were alone, finding out that they were also unhappy with the way things had been going on so far. Then there was the show - it was different, good. Eddie was nervous, which he hadn't felt for a long time and he was excited. He loved the show, he was happy again. Simply because he knew you were there, watching him. He wore his best outfit, played his favourite guitar that night, he even added a touch of eyeliner to his look, which is something he used to do in his early days, when he was still performing to the local drunks back home.

But then everything went to shit. They had just come off stage, tired but in high spirits. Eddie's fingers were still tingling from all the playing, a bead of sweat running down his temple as he dropped down to the couch in the middle of the dressing room. He rested his head on the back of the worn out couch and closed his eyes for a minute, just enjoying the moment. His heart was still racing, but it wouldn't calm down now, not when he was anxiously waiting for you. There was a knock on the door, Eddies eyes popped open. It's only been a minute, he didn't expect you so soon.

The door flew open and in walked a girl, but not the one he was looking for. This girl, he knew very well, though he wish he didn't. Madeline. The press had picked up a scent they were dating about a year ago, Eddie didn't have to think too hard about who might have leaked it. Yes, they actually went on a date once, but nothing ever came of it. Eddie had realized his mistake on taking her out half way through the date. She was pretty and very ambitious, but it wasn't hard to see what she was really after. Not Eddie, his heart or soul, but something she deemed more valuable - the immediate popularity she would get once she'd bag him, not to mention the money of course. He remained a gentleman throughout the date but told her in the car later, when he offered to drop her home, that nothing would ever come of this.

Eddie thought it would end there, but every once in a while, she would pop back up. He blocked her number, when she tried to call him. He even banned her from coming to his shows, so the fact that she was here right now, was unpredicted. Her wild eyes quickly meet his uncertain ones and she jumps on the couch, too close for comfort. ''Eddie! Great show, as always. You're such a rockstar.''

Eddie subtly shifted away from her, trying to put distance between them. ''Madeline, what are you doing here?''

''Came to see you, silly,'' she yakked, resting her manicured hand on his knee, unphased when he immediately pulled away.

''Look,'' he sighed. ''I appreciate that and everything, but you need to leave. I'm expecting someone.''

''Oh, who?'' she asked.

''That's not your concern.''

''So it's a girl then,'' she stated, pouting her lips.

Eddie's patience was running thin, he fought the urge to roll his eyes. ''Madeline, for the 100th time - I am not interested in you. You need to accept that.''

''I find that hard to believe, Eddie. Your body is saying something different, it's hot against mine.'' Madeline scooted closer and pressed her body against his, their thighs touching.

''Are you out of your mind? I just did a show.'' Eddie was baffled, Madeline was annoying but she usually took the hint. She was now close enough that he could see her bloodshot eyes up close, then she sniffed. She was high, he realized, probably on something stronger. From his peripheral vision, Eddie could see one of the guys walk to the door, opening it.

''No, Eddie. I've never been more sane.'' She grabbed him by the shoulders and smashed her lipgloss sticky lips onto his with enough force to knock the wind out of him, catching him totally off guard.

It took two seconds for his senses to kick back in and to push her off. He held Madeline by the elbows, keeping her at arm's length. But it was too late. He turned to the door and there you were, looking at him. He didn't have to guess that it was you, he got that same feeling he always got when he talked to you. His tummy tingled, heart swelled, but this time it was tainted with enormous remorse. Your eyes were glossy with unshed tears, lips trembling. When the first tear rolled down your cheek, you turned and disappeared back towards the exit.

Eddie shot up from the couch and chased after you, the door slamming shut behind him. ''Y/N! Wait, please!''

''Don't bother, Eddie,'' you shot back, voice strained and shaking.

''This isn't what it looks like, I swear,'' Eddie pleaded with you, catching up and stopping in front of you. ''Please, let me explain.''

''Move,'' you deadpanned, face vacant of any emotion except for the two dried streaks running down your cheeks. Eddie placed his hands on your upper arms, to stop you from leaving, which you instantly jerked away from, like you'd been burned.

''Please,'' he begged, ''give me a chance to explain everything.''

''Just let me leave, Eddie,'' you wiped your face, arms crossing in front of you. You refused to look at him and he couldn't ignore the stab in his heart.

''Give me five minutes and I will do anything you want,'' Eddie pleaded, dipping his head trying to catch your eyes.

Locking eyes with him, you relented. ''Two minutes.''

''The girl you saw was Madeline, we went out once a year ago and she's been trying to snake her way into my life ever since. I'm not interested her and never was. I don't know how she got in tonight, she's high on something and then she kissed me.''

''Her instagram said you sent her VIP tickets,'' you said.

''That's bullshit. I didn't send her anything but I think I know who did,'' he defended.

You considered his words for a moment, before unlinking your arms and straightening your back. ''Okay, your two minutes is up. Now, you said something about doing anything I wanted?''

''Yeah?'' he asked, sounding a bit hopeful.

''Don't contact me again, Eddie.'' With that, you pushed past him, leaving the arena, taking his heart with him.

.•♫•♬•

Back in your car, you drove the few miles to your apartment instead of going back to your parents' house. You didn't have the strength to face Robin or answer any questions tonight. You dragged yourself up the stairs and pushed inside, locking the door afterwards. You stood in the middle of your living room, gathering your thoughts. The silence seemed extra haunting at this moment, seeping into your bones. You sat on the couch, kicking your boots off. Lifting your legs up, you laid down on your side, pulling a sage green fleece blanket over your shivering form, pulling it up to your chin.

When you closed your eyes, the only thing you saw were their locked lips.

After a pretty sleepless night, you decided to get up when you were awoken by the booming of thunder. You'd kept on the same position the entire night, you groaned when you stretched out on the small couch. You found your purse on the floor and fished out your phone, anticipating the amount of messages or calls from Eddie, but you found nothing. Defeated, you sighed and threw it aimlessly on the cushion next to you. You didn't know why you were disappointed, you specifically told him not to contact you. Still, there was a part of you that hoped he would... what, fight for you? He respected your wishes yet it still stung.

You waited until it was an appropriate time and called Robin to fill her in on the details, telling her you would drive back shortly. She gasped when you told her how you found Eddie in his dressing room, but Cherry was the one who spoke up, indicating Robin put the phone on speaker. ''I knew it was a good choice to bring my pepper spray. That girl needs to be sprayed immediately.''

''Wait, who are you talking about?'' you asked, mouth full of buttery toast.

''Madeline, duh,'' she said matter-of-factly.

''I'm lost,'' Robin chimed in.

''Yeah, me too. Do you know her?'' you asked.

''Not personally, but I've read about her. She's a leech, only interested in being relevant.''

You thought about what Eddie said last night. He didn't invite her and she kissed him. Were you wrong about everything? No, if Madeline was only interested in fame, what would her kissing Eddie in private get her?

''It doesn't matter, I asked him not to contact me anymore and he hasn't. So, it's over.''

.•♫•♬•

Eddie was hunched over the table at breakfast, playing around with some pieces of broccoli. He didn't want to interact with anyone and he certainly didn't want anybody seeing him either, he took a good look in the mirror before and it wasn't pretty. His eyes were sunken, red rimmed from lack of sleep and overthinking. Last night was a fucking disaster. After you stormed out of the place, Eddie walked back to his dressing room, where Madeline was still perched on the couch, chatting with his manager now.

Swallowing down all of the word that were fighting to escape, instead he took a deep breath and asked Madeline to leave, threatening her with a restraining order if she ever contacted him again. It seemed to click for her, finally and she scurried out of the room.

''You sent her the tickets?'' he asked, looking straight at his soon to be former manager.

''Yes, Ed. She's pretty, could have done for some good publicity if you hadn't sent her away,'' he barely looked back at him, typing on his phone.

''You're fired.''

Looking up from his phone, he finally seemed to be alert. ''What?''

''I said, you're fired.'' Eddies fists were clenched, nostrils flared as he tried to keep his composure.

''You can't fire me, buddy, we still have a contract.''

''I'll pay you whatever I owe, with interest, just get fucking lost.''

His manager slipped his phone into his pocket and walked over to him. ''You're making a big mistake, Eddie.''

''I'd say it's the best decision I've ever made.''

''You're gonna regret this,'' his manager pointed a finger at him, stabbing it into his chest. From the corner of his eye, the other guys had joined Eddie's side.

''Doubtful,'' one of them said.

There was a tense stand off, before their manager relented and stormed out of the room, shouting something about lawyers.

Eddie sighed and fell onto the couch. He just fired his manager and they still have some shows to play, he needed to figure out what to do. But that could wait, he had more pressing matters, like how to get you back.

Eddie shook last night's memories from his mind and left the breakfast area, returning to his room. He pulled up the number for Julie, his soon to be new manager and gave her a call. Eddie was relieved when she was happy to hear from him, offering to meet up before the show and to discuss anything he needed, pro bono as she said, since she's not working for him technically, yet. Eddie had to hung up with her when there was a knock on his door. He rushed to open the door, already aware who it was.

There he stood, Wayne Munson himself, Eddie's hero. They embraced each other, Eddie breathing in his uncle's scent of cigarettes and straight black coffee. ''I'm so glad you're here.''

''Me too, kid.'' Wayne let him go and gave him a once over. ''Are you alright? You look like shit, to be blunt.''

Eddie smirked, sadly though. ''Not really.''

They sat down on Eddie's bed and he filled his uncle in on everything that had happened yesterday and prior to that too. He needed Wayne's guidance, who listened carefully and never interrupted until Eddie was finished.

''Wow,'' Wayne sighed. ''Have to say, this is an interesting way to meet someone.''

''Yeah, I... I really like this girl. I fucked up, big time,'' Eddie rubbed his hands together, only concentrating on the carpet beneath their feet.

''Don't be too hard on yourself, son. Both of you were hurt, by someone else's actions.''

''I could've stopped it though, before it even happened. I should have just kicked Madeline out as soon as I saw her. I don't- I don't know why I didn't to that.''

''People pleaser,'' Wayne smirked. ''Look, just give if a few days I say. You'll have time to process everything and think about what you really want. You have to evaluate your life, your career and find out where she fits in. I'm sure she's thinking the same thing. She has her own life and aspirations, if she wants to be with you, she'll have to make difficult choices, too.'' Wayne put a hand on Eddie's shoulder, squeezing it. Eddie looked at him and nodded along.

''So what should I do?''

''Well, if you want romantic advice from an old grump like me,'' Wayne chuckled, ''You should tell her how you feel and see what she thinks. If you let this go, you might regret it for the rest of your life. Take it from me...''

Eddie looked at his uncle, eyebrows raised in disbelief. ''You? I had no idea you-''

Wayne waved him off. ''It was ages ago, kid. Don't make the same mistake I did, is what I'm saying.''

Eddie nodded in response, taking everything in. ''Thank you. You're still coming tonight, right?'

''Wouldn't miss it for the world.''

• • • • • •

Things were looking up. After meeting with Julie, things were looking up. Eddie couldn't break his contract or obligations, but Julie did manage to postpone the rest of the shows so he and the band could have three weeks off to recharge. After the second show, Eddie spent the next day catching up with Wayne, showing him the city. He was sad when his uncle had to fly back, but grateful they had rekindled their relationship, Eddie promised to keep in touch and he had been keeping his promise.

Right now though, he was on his way to get coffee, and something else. He was as incognito as he could get, hoodie pulled over his head, glasses perched up his nose. He hadn't spoken to you for a week and it was like his lifeline was draining. He'd gone by the shop once before, a couple of days ago but instead of going in, he walked straight past when he noticed you were at the counter. Today though, he would walk straight in, whatever happened. And he did, walking up to the empty counter, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest.

''She's not here,'' a voice called from his right. Eddie turned to see the same girl he already met, Robin, standing with two empty coffee cups. She didn't look pleased to see him, unlike last time.

''I'm actually here to see you.''

''Oh? Why's that?'' she rounded the counter, putting the cups down and leaning on her hands, staring him right in the eyes.

Eddie felt like he was under a spotlight, fidgeting with his ringed fingers. ''I-I need your help. Please.''

''With what?''

''To get Y/N back.''

Robin scoffed. ''What about your girlfriend?''

''I don't have a girlfriend,'' Eddie defended. ''I'd like one, though.''

That made Robin's cold façade falter and she sighed. ''Fine.''

Eddie recoiled, looking around if he was being pranked. ''Really?''

''Yeah, dumbass.'' Robin rolled her eyes. ''She's sad and it's your fault, but-.''

''I know, I know,'' he rushed out, holding his arms out. ''I ruined everything and I'm trying to fix it. But I need your help.''

''Don't interrupt me,'' she scolded and Eddie mumbled a sorry, looking like a kicked puppy. ''Like I was saying, she's sad and it's your fault, but she misses you, I can tell. I'm only doing this for her, not for you. So what do you need?''

''I'm not sure, exactly. Something that would help me get on her good graces again. What are her favorite flowers, for example?''

''Tulips, white ones. How do you plan on delivering these to her anyway?''

''I was hoping you'll tell me where she lives?'' Eddie pleaded.

Robin bit her lip, thinking about it, then groaned into the empty café. ''If I'm going to reveal her address, you're going to have to go all out. I was planning on giving it to her for Christmas, but this will definitely get you on her good side. She has a record player at home, she's been looking for a vinyl of R.E.M.'s 'Out of Time' album, but she hasn't found it yet. I'm sure someone of your.. occupation can get hands on that in no time.'' She also took a piece of paper and wrote down your address and apartment number.

''Thank you!'' Eddie beamed brighter than the sun, turning to leave. ''Whatever you need - I owe you big time.''

''Free entrance for life, Eddie!'' Robin called from behind him.

.•♫•♬•

Tiredly dragging your feet up the stairs, you hauled two grocery bags behind you, plus a tote bag over your shoulder. After an entire day of walking around, your boots felt heavier than usual, your feet sore and back aching. Reaching the final step, you stopped in your tracks when you saw a figure standing in front of your door, sulking in the darkness of the hallway. You relaxed a bit when you saw the outline of long hair. He noticed you too, standing straight where he was leaning on the concrete wall.

''Hi,'' he said quietly. You took a few steps closer and dropped the bags next to your feet, searching for your keys. Pushing the key in, you unlocked your door and stepped in, flicking the light on.

''Hi,'' you turned to look at him, keeping the door open, your heart swooning at the white tulips he was holding, a long with what seems to be a vinyl record. ''Can you grab the bags?''

Eddie managed to get all the bags into your kitchen without dropping anything.

''Thank you,'' you whispered, leaning against the counter, your hands tied together. ''What's that?''

Eddie looked at the things he was holding and handed the flowers first. ''They're for you.''

You took the flowers from him and inhaled the bouquet. You grabbed a vase and filled it with water, popping the flowers into it.

''I also got you this,'' he held out the vinyl and you saw it was the album you had been wanting for a while. You expected Robin to give it to you for Christmas, actually.

''Eddie, I-. How did you know about this?'' You took the record from him, hugging it to your chest.

''Robin told me,'' he smiled bashfully, rubbing his neck.

''Of course she did. I don't know what to say. Thank you, so much.''

There was a brief awkward pause where Eddie didn't know what to do, neither did you. Should he leave? Should you offer him tea or coffee? You kept staring at the floor and Eddie looked at everywhere but you. When the thick silence was stretched long enough, it seemed to shake Eddie out of his trance, he reached his hand out but quickly lowered it again.

''I'm... I'm really sorry for what happened. You were right to get upset. I should have handled things better, but I fucked up. I never meant to hurt you and I'm so, so sorry. I like you, a lot, and I can't stand the fact this might be over before it even started. You're kind, funny and so beautiful it hurts. I know I've already asked you this once, but I'm asking again - please, give me one last chance.''

You looked at him, really looked at him for the first time. His big, stunningly brown eyes, that held so many emotions, you could only pick up a few - fear, sorrow, maybe hope. Perfect nose with a thin gold hoop through the left nostril, plump lips with the sharpest cupid's bow and possibly the greatest head of hair you'd ever seen. His dark brown mane was framing his face, bangs shielding his eyebrows, the soft waves falling onto his shoulders. Black leather jacket with a red flannel underneath, another crisp white shirt peeking out underneath. Simple black jeans and combat boots, three heavy rings on his left hand, one simple ring on the other.

You'd called him pretty before, but he was so much more in real life. He was soft and inviting, but with an edge to him. You felt a pull towards him, you wanted nothing more than to put the record down and jump into his arms. It was hard to look away from his awaiting eyes, so you turned your back to him, placing the vinyl on your kitchen counter.

''Eddie, I forgive you. I understand it wasn't your fault, but I'm not sure if we would work. Romantically speaking...''

''What? Why would you think that?''

You turned to face him again, your throat constricting when you tried to speak. ''I-I just... You're you and I'm me. We live completely different lives. I'm not interested in a long distance relationship.''

''I get it, I've thought about that too,'' he took a step closer ''but we can make it work. I have two weeks off right now and when we finish the rest of the tour, I'm going to take a long break, months long. Shit, maybe even a couple of years. I want to make this work, if you'd let me. I want to take you out on dates, show you the world, see you on the side of the stage when I'm back on it some day.''

Eddie took his hand and gently placed it on your neck, his thumb rubbing the apple of your cheek when you closed your eyes to the touch. ''I'm scared.''

''You don't have to be scared, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere if you don't want me to,'' Eddie whispered, you could feel his face leaning closer to you so you opened your eyes, hypnotized by the brown irises staring back at you. His eyes dipped down to your lips for a second, then came back again.

''I don't want you to go,'' you whispered, gripping the edge of the counter behind your back.

''Yeah? What do you want then?'' His nose brushed yours, lips so close you could already feel the warmth of his skin.

''You.''

Eddie's lips finally brushed yours and everything else faded away. It was just the two of you, in the middle of your kitchen, diving into the unknowns. The kiss was feather light, like he was afraid to have more, fearing you would pull away too soon. But you craved more, so you grabbed the back of his neck and drew him closer, earning a soft hum from him. Eddie's other hand found your waist, circling it with new found confidence and holding you close. His lips massaged yours, poking his tongue out to run it over the seam of your mouth. Granting him access, you let out a tiny moan when he happily licked into your mouth.

He whined when you pulled away too soon. ''About that date you mentioned...''

''Yeah?'' he asked, settling his forehead against yours, stealing one more quick kiss.

''I was planning on staying in tonight, just hanging out. W-would you like to stay? I could make dinner and later we could watch a movie, or something.''

''That sounds perfect.''

.•♫•♬•

Eddie helped you put all the groceries away. He'd shrugged off his leather jacket, hanging it by the front door. You'd agreed to have pasta for dinner and once the noodles were boiling on the stove, he watched you wrap a few early Christmas presents, ones that you pulled out of your tote bag. He realized that being with you like this was the easiest thing ever, you settled into small talk easily, Eddie making his way around your kitchen like it was natural. He imagined this could be his reality and he didn't mind that idea, not one bit. He'd strain the pasta once it was done and tell you about his uncle, you'd finish taping up the last present and tell him about a crazy customer you had at the café. It was simple, but perfect.

You handed him plates from a cabinet and he set the small table by your window for two. You set the lighting right and lit a scented candle in the middle of the table. The meal went by slow, you were doing more talking than eating that by the time you were both done, the last bites were ice cold.

''This was great, thank you,'' Eddie offered.

You simply smiled in return and took his hand, bringing him along to the living room area. Plopping down on the couch, you pulled Eddie next to you and settled in comfortably, laying a blanket over your figures. You put on Netflix and handed him the remote, pulling your knees up. Eddie subtly stretched his arm out over the back of the couch, scrolling through various movie options when he felt you lean into him.

''What do you want to watch?'' he smiled to himself.

''Hmmm...'' you thought about it. ''The Grinch?''

''It's November.''

''So? My holiday season starts November 1st!'' you defended, pouting your lips at him.

Eddie snickered and kissed your forehead. ''Okay, okay. The Grinch it is.''

The movie started and you relaxed into his side. While your eyes were glued to the TV screen, Eddie's were wandering around. He wasn't subtle with his gawking either, memorizing all of the features on your face. Your eyes, nose, slightly parted lips, your elongated neck that was begging to be kissed, your perfect chest moving up and down with your steady breathing. He definitely shouldn't be staring, he felt like a creep but he couldn't look away either. He was brought out of his bubble when you shifted a little bit, placing your hand on his thigh.

Eddie focused his eyes back on the movie, praying it will distract him enough not to grow hard just from your simple touch. However, he realized you might not be so innocent in your act as he first thought. Your hand crept upwards, sometimes squeezing. His breath hitched when your pinky grazed his crotch, causing him to involuntarily buck his hips. Taking the same hand that was around your frame, he turned your face towards him, his big hand enveloping nearly the entire side of your face. Without wasting a second, he kissed you, plunging his tongue into your mouth, swallowing your surprised moan. The kiss was sloppy, urgent, you tasted so good it made him dizzy.

''Tell me you want this as much as I do,'' he mumbled, your mouths still atttached.

''Please,'' you begged, discarding the blanket and flinging your leg over his waist, situating yourself on his warm lap. Eddie's hand came around your middle, helping you grind against his growing thickness. You threw your arms around his neck, kissing him passionately. Eddie slid his hands lower, grabbing two handfuls of your ass, leaving your mouth to focus on your neck. He bit your skin, smoothing the ache with his tongue right after. The thought of him marking you up, so you had to wear turtlenecks to work, drove him wild. He mapped out your neck, proud of the already blossoming pink patches, then dipped lower to lick a stripe from your throat down to the valley between your breasts. You gasped when he yanked down the neckline of your tank top and licked the top of your boob, switching to give the other one the same affection.

Eddie grunted in annoyance when your bra stopped him, looking up at you with questioning eyes. Once you nodded in approval, he pulled down the cups of your balconette bra, almost going cross eyed when your supple breast fell out.

''Fucking perfect, baby,'' he groaned and took one of your nipples into his mouth, rolling his tongue around the bud, sucking it harshly before letting it go with a 'pop'.

''Ed, please'' you yanked on his hair to get his attention.

''What do you need? Tell me, honey.''

''Need you, hurry up.''

Eddie smirked and helped you up, pushing your shirt up this time so he could kiss your stomach, dipping his tongue into your bellybutton. His fingers made quick work of your pants, popping the button and dragging the zipper down, ''Okay?''

''Yes,'' you pulled your top over your head and let it drop to the floor. Sneaking your fingers back into his hair, Eddie's eyes rolled to the back of his skull when you scratched your nails across his head. He helped you out of your pants, then ran his hands along your thighs, spreading your legs more. Wrapping his hands around your thighs, his rings were cool against your heated skin when he pulled you closer to him. He pushed his face into your covered mound and inhaled deeply, letting out a satisfied hum.

''Can I?'' he asked, hooking his fingers into your panties, not yet slipping them down until he had your permission. ''Need to see it, baby. Been dreaming of this pussy for so long.''

''Please,'' you pleaded once again, running your fingers along his jawline. He placed a quick kiss on your palm, then dragged down the last piece of fabric separating him from your pussy, the lace sticking to your core. You stepped out of them and Eddie lifted one of your legs, planting your foot on the armrest of the couch, giving him the perfect view of your wet cunt.

“Oh, it’s dripping, sweetheart. This all for me? Not sure I deserve it.” Eddie took his sweet time, kissing your pubic bone and tonguing between your legs, but avoiding your centre completely.

“Please, Eds, stop torturing me.”

“‘m sorry, babe. Just wanted to savor this. Let me make it up to you.”

He finally poked his tongue out, tasting you for the first time. Your hips bucked into his face when he took a tentative lick through your folds, the tip of his tongue flicking your swollen clit. From the first taste of your nectarine, Eddie was addicted. His enthusiasm only increasing, he lapped at your pussy, dipping his wet muscle into your tight hole, feeling it suck him in immediately. Going back for your clit, he closed his mouth around your bud and sucked harshly.

“Fuck, that’s so good,” your head thrown back, you grinded your hips against his face. You felt his hand sneak up your thigh, his fingers circling your opening before pushing his middle finger in all the way until you felt the cool metal against your flesh.

“So fucking good, you’re doing so good for me. This little cunt is sucking me right in, can barely fit. Think you can take two, baby?” Adding his ring finger, Eddie struggled to make it fit. He wondered how his cock would fit if his fingers had difficulty. Eventually, your walls relented and let him fuck up into you. The divine taste of you still present on his tongue, he worked you open with his digits and dove back in to flick your clit up and down in quick motions. He could tell you were getting close, your moans were getting more high pitched, your breathing erratic and your toes were curled. A couple minutes later, you moaned loudly and released all over his tongue which he eagerly lapped up, not letting a single drop go to waste.

He helped you sit back on his lap, your head resting against his shoulder, puffs of air hitting his neck whilst he was rubbing your back. “You good?”

“Good, great, amazing…” you breathlessly replied.

“Was it better than in your book?”

“I mean it was real, so yeah.”

He let you gather yourself for a moment, just holding you, although the erection he had was becoming unbearable. Eddie felt your lips skim his neck, leaving soft butterfly kisses in your wake. You bit down on his earlobe, running your tongue over it to soothe the small ache. Eddie let his head fall back, looking at you through hooded eyelids as you reached behind you to unclasp your bra, letting it fall on the couch.

“This is unfair. I’m completely naked but you’re still dressed,” you pouted and ran your hands along his chest, popping the buttons of his flannel.

“Better help me out then,” he smirked, kneading your ass as you continued to unbutton his shirt, kissing every new inch of skin you revealed. Soon, his shirt was on the floor and you were working on his belt. Once his pants were open, your hand dipped under his boxers to run a finger over his cock, tracing a vein on the underside. He lifted his hips so you could pull his pants and underwear down enough to free his throbbing cock from it’s cage. It bounced up, against his stomach, leaving a sticky mess in his happy trail. Eddie groaned when you wrapped your hand around him, pulling back his foreskin to reveal his slit, pre cum leaking from the tip, which you used as lube. You started to climb down, but Eddie stopped you.

“Not this time, princess. Tonight’s all about you. You got a condom? I didn’t really prepare for this.”

You got up from his lap and jogged to your kitchen, Eddie watching your ass juggle. You opened your medicine drawer and searched around until you retrieved the foil packet. Eddie took it from you, ripping it open with his teeth and rolling it on, all the while keeping eye contact with you as your eyes were focused on his lap.

“C’mere.” He held his hand out for you. You grabbed it and took your place back on his lap, his cock situated perfectly between your folds. He grabbed the base of his cock and rubbed the tip through your lips, gathering the wetness. He positioned the tip at your entrance and waited.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he breathed.

You grabbed his shoulders and sank down on him, inch by inch until there was no space left between you and you had taken all of him.

“Eddie, oh my God,” you moaned, fingernails pressing into his shoulders, leaving behind crescent moon shapes.

“So tight, Jesus Christ.”

Eddie was already seeing stars, he had to focus all of his remaining energy into not coming right this second. Your warm walls enveloped him, pulsing around his shaft. You rose up and slammed back down again, already accustomed to the stretch.

“You’re so perfect, fuck. Taking me so well,” he praised, hands grabbing your waist, helping you bounce on his dick.

You whimpered. “Keep talking.”

“Oh yeah? You love it when I talk like this, baby? That get you all riled up? Look at you, working my cock like that. Feels so fucking good, doesn’t it?”

You nodded and bounced harder, your rhythm faltering. Eddie slouched down lower on the couch, anchoring his feet to the ground and started fucking into you.

“Fuuuck, good girl. Letting me use you like this, like a fucking fleshlight. You’re just a little cock hungry whore, huh? Are you just a hole for me to use however I please? Your pussy is mine now, say it. Who’s pussy is this?”

“I-it’s yours, Eddie, only yours.”

“Damn right. It is mine, I’ll fuck it whenever I want. Stretch your cunt out so good, you’ll beg me to go easy on you. But you don’t want easy, do you? You want it rough. Fuck.”

“Don’t stop, please, please, please,” one of your hands slipped between your legs, toying with your clit.

Eddie grunted at the sight, wrapping both of his hands around your throat, squeezing your neck enough to make you lightheaded. “Yeah, play with that clit, rub it for me. Can still taste you on my tongue, you want to know what you taste like?”

He pulled you in, smashing his lips against yours, his tongue meeting yours in the middle. The kiss was messy, spit drooling from the side of your mouth. Your fingers sped up, your pussy clenching down on him harder and harder. Eddie felt his own stomach twist up as well.

“You close, baby? I need you to cum, fuck. I’m so fucking close.”

“I’m so- Fuck, oh my God Eddie, I’m coming, I’m coming!” You cried out, tears streaming down your face, the drops falling onto Eddie’s forearm. He was close behind, feeling his balls tighten up in a telltale sign. He groaned into your mouth and jerked his hips a few final times before releasing into the condom.

Both of you breathing like you’d just ran a marathon, Eddie let go of your neck, the red and purple skin left behind almost enough to get him hard again. You fell forward on his chest, resting your head against his shoulder, catching your breath. Eddie thrashed his legs around, shoving his boots and pants off. He stood up, taking you with him. You squealed and wrapped your legs around his waist, his cock slipping out of you.

“Bedroom?”

You pointed him in the right direction and he took careful steps, mindful of the clothes laying around. Once in your bedroom, he gently placed you on the bed, kissing your temple. When you didn’t let go, he chuckled.

“Be right back, promise.” He helped you under the covers and disappeared back into the hallway, looking for a bathroom. When he found it, he discarded the condom and washed his hands, eyeing the couple of lovebites you’d left on him. When he made it back to you, you were already asleep. Eddie crawled next to you, pulling you tightly against his front, settling his hand on your waist, lazily drawing random shapes on your tummy until sleep took him, too.

.•♫•♬•

It was raining again, the patter on the windowsill lulling you from your sleep. You were warm and cozy, limbs tangled with someone else’s. You’d almost forgotten about last night, thinking it was a fidget in your imagination. But Eddie proved to be real when he stirred behind you, his deep sigh hitting the back of your neck, one arm hugging you closer to his body. You hummed, reaching behind you to grasp his neck. Memories of last night came flooding back, reminding you of the delicious ache between your legs.

“Morning beautiful,” a low, raspy voice sounded from behind you, goosebumps spreading across your skin. Christ, you could get used to hearing his morning voice every day.

“I don’t remember the last time I slept this good,” you mumbled.

“You need to sleep with me every day, then,” he said, squeezing your hip.

You snorted. “You wish.”

He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, his lips moving against your flesh. “I do.”

You turned to him, his baby cow eyes already staring back at you. You were trying to see any deception in them, but all you saw was adoration and honesty.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you gulped, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“It means I want you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

“How would that work? I can’t follow you around everywhere you go.”

“I know that and I don’t expect you to, even though it would be cool. What I do know, is this - I’m taking a long break and I want to be with you, every single day. After that too, I’m not going to dump you when I have to go on stage again if that’s what you’re worried about. We’ll figure everything out. So if you’d have me, I promise I will work my ass off every day to prove to you that you’re not making a mistake.”

“Eddie… I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes,” he begged “Be mine. Would you be my girlfriend?”

You laid your hand on top of this, the one still holding your hip. Your heart was beating so fast, you thought it would explode any second. You had a moment to think about all the roads this relantionship could take you, expecting it to end horribly. But even with the potholes and wonky curves, you saw yourself ending up where you belonged - with him.

“Yes.”

His lips covered your before you even finished that word. You felt him smile into the kiss, he was putting everything he had into it. His tongue grazed the seam of your lips, asking for access which you happily granted. He moaned when your tongue met his, his nose ring brushing your nostril.

His fingers skiddled across your hip to the curve of your ass, squeezing your butt. He broke the kiss too soon for your liking and violently pushed you back on your side. Eddie kissed a line down your spine, then licked a fat stripe back up, ending at the base of your neck. Your whole body shivered in anticipation, core getting slick with excitement. Eddie continued his assault, burying his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in deep.

His cock was pressed against your ass, a smudge of liquid dripping down. The hair on his abdomen tickling your lower back. You whimpered when he gripped one of your breasts, circling his thumb over your areola, then pinching your nipple until it was perked up.

''Eddieee...'' you whined, kicking your legs.

''Need somethin', darling?'' he traced the tip of his nose on the shell of your ear, his palm sliding from your breast all the way down, his thick fingers slipping through your dewy folds. Bringing his fingers back up, he circled your clit with his middle finger, barely adding any pressure, chuckling when you bucked your hips to get more friction.

''Need you so bad, please,'' you mewled, grinding your ass against his crotch, getting a hiss out of him.

''Condom?'' he asked, adjusting his hips, so his cock nestled directly between your legs, swaying his hips back and forth, the head of his cock parting your folds, bumping your clit with every stroke.

''My boyfriends don't need to wear one.''

''Fucking Christ,'' he let out a deep groan, lining himself up with your weeping hole and pushing inside, sliding to the brim in a single thrust. You choked on a moan, his cock was so deep, you could feel him in your throat. He stilled for a moment, letting you adjust, his mushroom tip bruising your cervix.

''Move,'' you cried, gripping his forearm that was resting against your belly, his fingers massaging your flesh.

He pulled back all the way and slammed back in, not bothering to be polite. You still weren't 100% adjusted to his size, but the burn mixed with the way his cock pierced your insides was euphoric. It was embarrassing how close you were already, but you blamed it on the early morning, you were always more sensitive in the early hours of the day.

''Feel so fucking good, baby. You like my bare cock fucking you like this? You gonna let me come inside too? Fill your sweet pussy up, have it leak out of your abused cunt all day, huh?''

You were too far gone to reply, the only sounds in the room your moans and Eddie's groans mixed with the wet slapping of skin against skin. Eddie was a talker though, never shutting up about how good you felt, how perfect you were for him.

''You were made for me, this pussy was carved for my dick. You're mine, only mine. Mine to fuck, mine to use, however I want. God, fuck. You're gonna make me come already. You gonna let me fill you up, baby? Shoot my fat load so deep in your pussy, you're gonna fucking taste it.''

''Y-yeah, please... Come inside me, please. Wanna feel it, Eds.''

''Fuck, I'm coming, baby. Come with me, come on.'' His thrusts were faster, sloppier, he was losing his rhythm. You were so close too, but needed the extra push so you gripped his wrist and pushed his hand lower. He caught on immediately, roughly circling your puffy clit with two fingers. It was enough to send you over the edge, both of you losing yourselves to the pleasure, Eddie spurting his cum inside of you, your mixed juices leaking down your thigh.

When you came down, Eddie pecked your cheek. He went to pull out, but you stopped him. ''Just stay, wanna be like this for a minute.''

''Whatever you want, princess. I'm all yours.''

.•♫•♬•

December 25th. One of your favorite days of the year. The ground was white, more snow falling behind the window, illuminated by the streetlamps outside. You were so full of amazing food, a little tipsy on raspberry punch. Christmas celebrations started yesterday, when you and Eddie flew out to Indiana to spend Christmas Eve with his uncle, Wayne. He was as sweet as he was in the stories Eddie had told you, if not more. There wasn't a moment where you weren't smiling, looking at the two of them bickering over Eddie's high school days.

You flew back this morning, where you spent the entire day preparing for Robin and Cherry to come over. Tomorrow you would go to your parents' house, which Eddie was super nervous about. The evening was spent with good food and drinks, smooth Christmas music coming from a portable speaker, great conversation. When the girls finally left, it was close to midnight. Eddie had asked you to dance, now the two of you were swaying to the music in front of your Christmas tree, decorated with ornaments, fake snow and at the very top, instead of a typical star, with a paperclip, was a polaroid selfie of you and Eddie, taken a week ago in front of the same tree.

''In case I haven't told you yet, you look so beautiful tonight.''

Your arms were linked around his neck, Eddie's arms wrapped around your waist. You followed his lead, heads close together, breathing in each other's air. You were wearing a rich purple dress with black stockings, with simple make up accentuated with a pair of earrings Eddie had gifted you this morning. And yes, they were drop earrings with sliced kiwis at the bottom. Where he had even found them, you had no idea, he refused to tell you. You had given him a pack of guitar picks, with his initials engraved on them.

''First of all, only tonight?'' you teased. ''Second, you've told me about fifty times today, but I'm not tired of hearing it yet.''

''Hmm.. Can I tell you something I haven't, yet? Something I've been wanting to say for a while now.''

Your heart skipped several beats, mouth going as dry as cotton balls. You had a feeling of what he wanted to say. You had been thinking the same thing recently, but you hadn't found the right moment to say it. Today, it had been nagging on your mind specially hard. True to his word, you and Eddie had spent nearly every day together, except for that one day where you had the flu and told him to stay away so he wouldn't get sick either. He survived one day until he came banging on your door, begging you to let him in so he could take care of you. He had basically moved in since that first night you spent together. You had made room in your dresser for his clothes, his toothbrush was next to your in the bathroom, the fridge was filled with his favorite drinks. It was fast, clearly, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

''O-okay,'' you gulped.

''I love you, Y/N.'' he breathed out, like a weight leaving his shoulders, but immediately rushed out, ''You don't have to say it back, I just felt like I was about to burst if I didn't tell you. You're so amazing and perfect and gorgeous, I'm so happy you're mine and I'm so in love with you I honestly might die if you don't feel the same, but like I said, no press-''

You cut his rambling off by grabbing his face in your hands and smashing your lips together, tears running down your face. Eddie secured his arms around you and pulled you so close, your feet were hanging in the air. You pulled away, your lipgloss having transferred to his mouth, his eyes sparkling. ''I love you too, Eddie.''

''Yeah?''

''Yeah, so much.''

You squealed and laughed when he lifted you up and spun you around, your hair flowing. He put you down, kissed the top of your head and held you so tight you were struggling to breathe, but you didn't dare tell him that. You felt safe and truly loved, securely caged in his arms, smiling into his dress shirt while you slow danced the night away.

.•♫•♬•

tags: @hellfirewhore @ceriseheaven @feralgoblinbabe @ethereal27cereal @mystars123 @munsonsuccubus @alizztor @tlclick73 @nojamsonmytoast @b-irock @harringtonshairychest @hellkaisersangel @mcueveryday @other-world-s @santheweird @nightless @hiscrimsonangel @ali-r3n @latenighttalkingwithgrapejuice @tayhar811 @sarawithasword @eddiesluvt @maddieluvseddie @hellfires-harlot @dollalicia @donnavivienne @ashlynnkennedy @dumbblonde1630 @sanzu-holic @dontslayfay @eddieswife16 @bebe07011 @ganjababie @sidthedollface2 @brittanyyydamnit @lezzy-bennet @bibliophilewednesday @qcueef @rogers-sweatbands @christalcake @episcogoth @beep-beep-sherlock @milkymil-k @sweet-villain @dragonfire @lokiofasgard616 @eddiethesexy @imperfect0angel @im-julessssss @starrywhitenight @siriuslysmoking @bibieddiesgf @smelikins @mymindsnothereanymore @alana4610 @bxbyvivi @daisydamed @a1ex-ba1ex

@xashleymariexo @bimbobaggins69 @crazy-forrobertsheehan @sweetsweetjellybean @sherrylyn628 @eddieswifeasf @maximizedrhythms @mostmetaleverrr @gaysludge @seventhlevelofhell @chloe-6123 @ick90 @strawberrysodaslut @blagname1092 @kittykaylat1987

[digitulart]

helluva boss redesigns. i made these a year ago so i cant completely remember my thought process on them, what i Do remember is my ideas for them

blitzo: (currently not renamed) grew up in the circus and still looks back on it fondly, hence his clothing. hes been not only declawed, but the light markings on his fur and horns indicate severe injury. hes not aggressive but he is very fidgety and overexcited, and does not think ahead, which always worries his coworkers. hes also very quick to try finding the "positives" in every scenario, and refuses to accept the downsides. the stress of being a tiny little imp trying to make a living through his assassin job is getting to him. he loves his big wolf daughter also. he loves her a lot. shes pretty much all he has

loona: The Wolf Daughter. renamed Ariel, shes a hellhound with albinism and was adopted by an imp, who arent so respected in hell due to their status and size. asides from her insecurities with not fitting in anywhere, and her teen angst behavior, she is successful in finding few friends and forming an indie rock band titled "Discord". yes she plays the bass. ariel cant say shes not grateful for everything her dad gives her and respects his commitment to his job, but she is a little embarrassed by him. she feels bad that shes ashamed of him, honestly

millie: renamed mimi for now. your average country girl imp. she plays a mean banjo. shes the heart of the I.M.P team and tries to keep everyone in good spirits. shes not above doing dirty work to get by, so being an assassin is more or less her true calling. it was better than her job in the mafia anyways. after meeting her husband, she began to realize she has extreme difficulty showing love in ways other than through service acts, as shes usually closed off emotionally. growing up in a big family, she wasnt given enough attention to really understand love. shes very grounded and a quick thinker, especially in tense situations

moxxie: (also not renamed yet) the actual realist of the team, aka nerd, and the strategist/planner/financial advisor/etc. his dad is a mafia boss, so although he left him many years ago, he also learned a lot from him. and also became extremely anxious and a huge perfectionist over executing any plans. but i mean, who wouldnt still be scared shitless over just about everything due to growing up like that, especially over their dad whos still actively looking for them anyways, even though their mom has tried keeping them from him multiple times until she disappeared, and he eloped with another previous member of the mafia, so now Shes in danger too, etc etc

(moxxie best character so he didnt get any severe changes btw)

(do NOT ask me about my opinions on this show or assume i hate it or love it or whatever i dont give a shit. that means you too viv)

[m1ssunderstanding]

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day 15

The beautiful mess that would’ve been The Beatles plus Yoko Ono plus Billy Preston plus Bob Dylan plus whoever else. Although I guess that is sort of what George went on to do. He really did just want a group of friends that cared more about each other than the product, and that’s what he created for himself. 

John: And the dream I had was you. The camera: zooms in on Paul’s wounded puppy eyes. John: *staring at Paul* d’you get my meaning? Imagine doing that to literally any other human being. I would not be that intimate with my best friend, my husband, my sister . . . anyone. Let alone my ex, (not literally, you all get what I mean) in front of my current SO and multiple cameras. This kind of thing really makes me wonder what kind of insane shit he must’ve said/done when they were alone, especially in happier times. 

George painted his own psychedelic guitar, and it looks gorg. Who painted Paul’s. Anyone know?

How can I Not assume “Stand By Me” is *meaningful* if, firstly, this is the second time you’ve sung it at each other during this project, and secondly, if you look at each other like This while singing it? Then again, when are they not uncomfortably intense when singing together?

“Oh, help me, Daddy. I don’t even know how this thing works.”  He says about the instrument he plays in the most successful band of all time. Paul can play whatever he needs to to get what he wants out of someone, and that includes dumb.

John’s little “Ookaay.” At Paul’s weird carrying-on about his insecurities with his bass playing. It just screams, “You’re delusional and I’m not getting into this right now.” Which is 1000% valid. Imagine being Paul McCartney and second-guessing your bass skills. Reminds me of that quote where John’s like, “He’s an egomaniac about everything else, but he’s coy about his bass playing. Which is stupid because he’s one of the most innovative bass players . . .”

John and Paul nail the harmony on “HoooooohOoOoOme.” And the LOOKs, you guys.

But also the nonverbal vocal communication! It’s one of my favorite parts about them, really. One of the things that reminds me of how special their relationship is. John makes a face. Paul goes, “brroop”. John replies with a beaming, “Yeah!” To which Paul adds another “brrrrip” as they simultaneously continue the song. It’s just unreal. Nobody does that. They are magical and they were right to think they had special telecommunicative powers. 

The lunch orders today are everything you need to know about the Beatles. John: Sparrow on toast. Paul: Boiled testicle. George: Uh, Mal? So, we’ll have whatever the vegetables are, and if they’ve got any cheese sauce for the cauliflower. Ringo: Mashed potato. That’s it. That’s them.

“Then there’s another one,” says Paul, doing a shit job of pretending he hasn’t rehearsed this to sound like some accidental discovery. “Don’t let me down. Oh, darling,” sung suddenly, and forcefully, directly at John, “I’ll never let you down.”

John, beaming like the star quarterback just told him he looked pretty, tucks his hair behind his ears and says, barely hovering in the safety of a joking tone, “Yeah, it’s like you and me are lovers.”

John has of course taken Paul’s game of gay chicken an arm’s reach farther than Paul’s comfortable with, at least in front of cameras, so he can only nod, and brush his own hair back. Stiff, expressionless. "Yeah."

(Of course, Peter Jackson cuts out what eventually evolves into John and Paul singing “we’re a couple of queers” and talking about wearing skirts for the performance) 

Am I the only one getting the vibe that John genuinely dislikes Teddy Boy? Not because he thinks it sucks or anything but because he doesn’t like the obvious similarities to his relationship with Julia? Personally, I love it. It was my anxiety song a few years back.

The original lyric to “fancy me chances” was Not “frock” I absolutely guarantee. 

Love Paul checking on Billy. Love that they're all, even with everything they've got going, making sure he's set up and taken care of.

Sorry not sorry that I’m so thirsty over literally every woman in this show, but. Hello, Pattie! She just walks in, ignores everyone else, kisses him Like That, whispers something, and gets out to go live her own life. Queen. Gorgeous. Obsessed.

George Martin praising his children for "working so well together." I love that he refused to produce them after the white album, not because they were being disrespectful to him or anything, but because they weren't getting along. And that, although he's not producing, technically, he can't stop himself coming in to make sure they're okay. He's such a good dad, literally.

John over here being emo af by himself, playing “I Feel Fine,” because he definitely does Not feel fine and he’s just as nostalgic as Paul, which is way too fucking nostalgic. Poor baby. 

[bratzforchris]

helloooo :) could you write a dom!luke with fem!reader where luke gets the idea of recording your moans while fucking and trying to get them sampled into a song and it’s just like really hardcore sex and stuff??

Five Sauce

꒰ ⊹ ˚ Summary — What starts as goofing off with your bandmates ends in something much, much more (Kinktober Day 17)

Pairing — 5sos (dom!ash, dom!cal, switch!luke, sub!michael) x female and band member!reader

Word Count — 3.3k

Content Warnings — Smut, group hookup, strong language, doggy style with multiple members, missionary, oral (m and f receiving), spanking every so often, handjobs, overstimulation, sub punishment by dom, orgasm denial, overall filth :3

Note — Well, I definitely strayed from this prompt a bit, but I hope you love it anyways! Please request in my ask box if you'd like the same thing, but solo Luke centric. I figured this counted as some good ole' hardcore smut >:> Also, please note that my writing does not reflect 5 Seconds of Summer in real life in any shape or form. This is for entertainment only.

DNI under 18 please :)

♡

“You’ve actually never had a threesome, Y/N?” Calum asked you. “No offense, but you’re kinda a whore.” he laughed. 

“Shut up,” You said, throwing a pillow towards him. “Some of us aren’t kinky fucks.”

“I mean, he didn’t lie.” Luke shrugged. 

You chuckled, kissing Luke’s cheek. Luke was definitely your closest thing to a partner, but there was definitely some erotic tension within the band. You’d shared makeouts with all, and sometimes two of, the boys, but you hadn’t done anything further than that with anyone besides Luke. 

“Who here thinks Y/N should have a threesome or moresome?” Michael asked, ever the kinky one. 

The band was currently over at Ashton’s house, trading song ideas and lyrics for the upcoming album, CALM. Somehow, probably because of the talk over Wildflower, the topic of conversation had changed from the album to sex. You didn’t mind, if anything, you rather enjoyed it. You’d been in the kink scene for a while, and the talk of having a hookup with more than one person excited you. 

“Oh, I absolutely do,” Ashton said finally, gnawing on his lip. “She needs it.” 

“Says who?” You asked. “You?”

Luke snorted. “You know Ashton loves to be in control.” 

“I dunno, Luke. You weren’t saying that after the Youngblood release party,” Calum scooted closer to the blond. “I definitely wrote ‘I love the way you’re screaming my name’ about that.”

Luke flushed, burying his face in your side. You knew he hooked up with the other guys every now and then, and for some reason, the thought turned you on more than it annoyed you. The blond was more often your dom than your sub, and the idea of him submitting to someone else was a very pretty image. 

“Fine,” You said, cutting right to the chase. “I’ll do it. But you guys have to help.” You chuckled, watching as their faces dropped. 

“Are you actually serious right now?” Michael asked, his dick hardening at the scene that was practically dangling in front of his face. 

“I am,” You nodded solemnly. “What? You guys are hot. Just because you’re my bandmates doesn’t mean I can’t say that.”

Michael moaned, laying himself on top of you and Luke, placed perfectly so that you could both feel his raging hard-on. “That’s so fuckin’ hot.”

“You’re a slut, Michael.” Calum chuckled before leaning in to softly suckle on Michael’s pale, milky neck while using his right hand to slowly palm Luke’s lap. 

The scene in front of you was already making your pussy throb with excitement and you crossed your legs, watching it unfold. Before you knew it, Ashton had come to sit beside you on his large, L-shaped couch. 

“Not participating in the fun, Y/N?” he asked you. “This is about you, y’know.” he hummed in your ear, voice husky. 

“Oh,” You moaned softly as Ashton ran his hand up and down your thigh. “Um.”

Michael and Luke looked at you when they heard you moan. Being a bit more sublike than Ashton and Calum, they were eager to please you. Luke pulled slightly away from Calum, just enough to run his tongue across your jawline and lips, slowly inserting into your mouth and beginning to make out with you. By this point, all five of you were touching each other somehow; the whole scene was definitely leading to something more, hence why Ashton stood up suddenly, hands on hips. 

“Luke, Michael, Y/N. Bedroom, now. We’ll be with you in a minute.” he said, nodding towards Calum and asserting his “dom” voice that you’d heard stories about. 

Michael immediately scampered off, eager to have someone dom him and take control, but you and Luke hung back a bit, eyeing each other. 

“Are you two deaf?” Calum asked. “Go.”

“What if I wanna dom?” Luke asked as he licked his lips, ever the brat. 

“Gee, Luke,” Ash hummed nonchalantly. “I wouldn’t want to have to punish you in front of Y/N, now would I?”

Luke blushed a bright pink, looking over at you. “I promise I’m a switch.”

“Yeah, like 20% of the time,” Calum snorted. “Now go.”

You both looked at each other and giggled a bit. You took the blond’s hand and led him to Ashton’s large master bedroom. Your face was already flushed and your sex was throbbing at the thought of watching Luke get punished by either Ashton or Calum. Michael had already propped himself up with a few silken pillows, completely naked and panting heavily as he tried to refrain from touching himself. 

“You really are a pro at being a whore, aren’t you?” You asked him. 

Michael nodded his head, whining softly. “Mmmmm, Luke.” he moaned. 

Luke laid down on the bed, patting the spot next to him for you to sit down. “Awww, you want me to fuck you and have Y/N watch? Wanna get humiliated in front of the hot girl?” he asked, trailing his fingers up and down Michael’s bare thighs. 

The green eyed-boy nodded, looking up at Luke through his lashes. “Uh huh.”

You blushed, kissing Luke’s neck. “Go on. Do it. Humiliate him.” You smirked. 

Luke turned towards you, pausing his seducing of Mike. “You need to be a good girl first. Strip.” he commanded.

You bowed your head and slowly pulled off your shirt, making sure Luke and Michael were watching. After you had tugged your shirt off, you turned your back so that Luke could unclasp your bra. Once he had done so, Luke tugged off his own clothes, eyeing both you and Michael in a seductive way.

“Help please?” You asked him in a sultry voice, fluttering your lashes. 

Luke smirked, landing a smack to your ass before undoing your bra and tossing it onto Michael. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

You blushed and then slid your pants off, doing the same thing with your underwear. Within just a few seconds both your panties and your bra were draped across Michael. The whole scene was like something out of a porn, and you knew that Ashton and Calukm would definitely be mad, but that wasn’t stopping the three of you. 

“Kneel, Y/N.” Luke said, denying Michael of any attention that he was so desperately whining and moaning for. 

You immediately did as Luke asked, blushing. “Yes sir.”

Luke eyed you up and down one time before smirking. “Good girl. Now watch.”

He turned to Michael and began to palm his dick, leaving hickeys across the boy’s pale, milky tummy. You couldn’t help but to feel turned on by the scene, your stomach tightening as you watched Luke’s fingers work Michael’s dick. Michael began to moan, throwing his head back and wiggling against the sheets. 

“I know you can do it.” Luke told Michael as he pumped him harder.

You were practically ready to cum yourself as you watched Michael grip handfuls of the sheets in hands as he tried so desperately not to release. Luke wasn’t showing the green eyed boy any mercy and it was hot. 

“Oh god, Luke.” he whimpered. 

“Ah ah, be good for Y/N.” Luke told him. 

Michael whined, wriggling and thrusting his hips. You crossed your legs and bit your lips, knowing you would be next for Luke if you didn’t listen. Even if he was a switch, Luke always pushed you as a dom, but you loved it. Finally, Luke decided he’d had enough of torturing Michael. He gave him one last thrust of the hand before speaking. 

“Go ahead, honey. Show Y/N how pretty you are when you cum.” Luke taunted, running his pointer finger down Michael’s tear-stained cheek. 

He didn’t need to be told twice; Michael immediately let go, covering his tummy and thighs, as well as Luke’s chest in thick, white ropes of cum. The boy panted as he rode out his high, grasping onto Luke’s forearms. 

“Huh huh…” he panted. “Thank you.” he moaned tiredly, smiling up at Luke a sleepy, fucked out smile. 

“You’re welcome. Good boy.” Luke cooed, kissing his forehead. 

When you heard Luke talk like that, you immediately let out a moan, crawling across the mountain of sheets towards him. “Need you.” You whimpered. 

“Did I tell you you could move?” Luke asked, raising a brow. 

You shook your head, looking down at the bed. “No, I’m sorry.”

Luke lifted your chin in his hand, glaring down at you. “You will ask me for permission in the future.”

You nodded, a blush speckling your cheeks. “I understand.”

“I think you need a little punishment, honey.” Luke said, as he bent to reach into Ashton’s nightstand. 

Despite this not being his house, there had been many hookups in this room, and Luke knew exactly where Ashton kept his condoms. He retrieved one from the drawer, pulling it out of the wrapper and rolling it onto Michael’s still erect cock. The blond nodded between you two before sitting back and crossing his arms. 

“Well. Since you two wanted to be so naughty, go for it. I’ll join in when I feel like it.” Luke said with a sneer. 

You and Michael looked at each other, before the green-eyed boy eventually bounded across the king sized bed to you. 

“You’re so pretty, Y/N.” he whispered, dipping his head. 

“On top.” You commanded Michael, knowing that would leave a way for Luke to join in which you so desperately wanted. 

He slowly did as you asked, sliding himself between your wet folds and jerking back instantly, in an almost teasing way. “Is this okay?”

“It’s perfect.” You panted out, so beyond horny. 

Suddenly, Michael slammed into you in a way that you didn’t know he was capable of. He began to ride you, moaning loudly and throwing his head back. You quickly joined in, the tightness of your pussy and the way Michael looked so pretty looking down at you making you so much more sensitive than usual. 

Before long, you were already near orgasm. His hips continued to grind into yours, the sound of his balls hitting your ass echoing around the room. You wondered what Ashton and Calum were doing that they hadn’t heard what was going on, but right now, you didn’t care. 

“Oh,” You whimpered. “Oh Mike. Gonna cum.” 

“Not yet,” Luke said out of the blue, straddling Michael’s hips from behind. “You’re not cumming until I say so. Both of you.”

The blond immediately slammed into Michael’s pretty, pink hole with no lube or condom, making the boy cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. The scene was like something out of a pornographic film. Michsel was topping you, panting heavily as Luke edged him, all three of you letting out sensual, seductive moans, whimpers, and pants. 

“Gonna cum.” You and Michael cried at nearly the same time. 

Luke was also nearing his climax, but he was much more skilled at holding his in and being edged than you two were. 

“Go ahead, Y/N. Cum for…” Michael’s sentence was interrupted by the door flying open. 

“What is this?” Calum asked, surveying the scene. 

Luke immediately pulled out of Michael and kneeled, looking down at the bed. “‘M sorry…” he whispered. 

Michael did the same with, quickly covering himself with the sheets and hiding his face in a throw pillow. You straightened up, trying oh-so-desperately to clench your legs. The way the boys had interrupted you three was perhaps the cruelest form of edging there was. 

“Save it, Luke. You know what happens to naughty boys.” Ashton sneered, sitting down on the bed and giving Luke’s blond curls a slight tug. 

Luke whined, his head becoming fuzzy as he slipped into subspace. Michael was already in his headspace, but the way Calum, who was his regular dom, was looking at him made him sink further and further in.

“I think Luke and Michael need to watch,” Ash stated. “I know they’re the ones that started it. They’re just little sluts, right boys?”

Luke nodded his head slowly, blushing. “Yes, sir.”

Michael didn’t speak, but nodded his head, giggling softly.

“Good job,” Ash patted each of their knees before roughly grabbing your hips and pulling you closer to him. “As for you.”

He began to make out with you passionately, pinning you to the bed as Calum stroked your inner thighs, exciting your nerves. You had never gone further than a drunken makeout with either of the boys, but you were so horny and so close to cumming at the current moment that they were absolutely turning you on. 

“Look at her,” Calum said, placing kisses on your thighs. “So desperate for a cock.”

You moaned into Ashton's kisses, tugging on Calum’s curls. The entire scene was beyond hot. All five of you were spread out across Ashton’s large bed. Luke and Michael were sitting at the foot of it, completely naked and trying not to touch themselves as they watched the doms make out with you. Calum was caressing your thighs with both his hands and his lips, kissing along your slit ever so teasingly. 

Ashton had your arms pinned to the bed and was heatedly making out with you, every so often tugging on your hair. “You want me, baby? Want me cock inside your pretty little pussy?”

You whimpered and nodded, tensing and clenching your legs as Calum hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Oh…”

“I’ll save the best for last. Let Cal have his fun. You two,” he nodded over at Luke and Michael. “Get cleaned up and in pajamas. You’re going to bed without getting off, sweets. That’s what happens when you get Y/N in trouble.” Ashton’s tone was firm, but he did press a kiss to Luke and Michael’s forehead as they trudged into the bathroom. 

Ashton leaned back against the headboard and pulled his shirt off, smirking to himself as he watched Calum’s tongue edge closer and closer to your opening. The raven-haired boy crouched fully and slowly began to run his tongue along your folds, licking over your clit. 

If there was one thing Calum was famous for in the bedroom, it was not giving a warning. He began to eat out without a word, tongue thrusting in and out of your hole and going over your clit. You locked your legs around his head, crying out. 

“Cal. Feels so good.” You nearly hollered. 

He smirked, lifting his head up so he could speak. “Need to cum already, princess?”

You nodded your head, gripping the sheets and throwing your head back, deep, throaty moans eliciting from your mouth. 

“Not a chance.” he smirked, landing a smack to your ass as he ate you out faster and harder. 

By this point, tears were practically streaking down your cheeks. The lingering feeling of being edged earlier, combined with how good Calum’s tongue felt against your sensitive nerves was pushing you over the edge. 

“Please, need to cum.” You cried. 

“I know you can hold it, baby girl.” he moaned, the vibrations just feeding the feeling even more. 

You shoved your face into your hand as you cried, bucking your hips up. Calum was just making you feel so, so good that your brain was overloaded. “Please.”

Eventually, Calum decided he’d had his fun with you. You’d been such a good girl, and for that, you deserved to cum. “Go ahead, baby. Cum all over my face.” he hummed. 

You immediately did as told, thrusting closer to him as you let go, your cum coating his face. Calum lifted his head up and smirked, wiping the cream from his eyes. “Good fuckin’ girl. She’s a good one, Ash.” he said to his bandmate as he pulled off his shirt. 

You blushed, dipping your head as you caught your breath. “Thank you.”

Ashton smirked, practically ripping off his pants after seeing what a good sub you were. “I want you to watch while I have my fun, Cal. Enjoy yourself.” he chuckled. 

Although Calum was also a dom, Ashton had fallen into the role of lead dom for this particular scene. The brown-eyed boy removed his clothes when Ashton spoke, ready to get off on the scene unfolding before his eyes. 

The honey blond removed his pants before towering over your exhausted frame on his knees. You blushed as you eyed him up and down, staying a minute on his dick. He was much bigger than Luke and Michael and as you glanced over, bigger than Calum as well. 

“Suck.” Ashton demanded. 

You moved yourself to your knees, kneeling before Ashton and fluttering your lashes up at him. “Okay.” You smiled shyly. 

You put his tip in your mouth, running your tongue over the head. Slowly, you took more and more of Ashton’s cock into your mouth. You were bobbing your head and sucking him off rhythmically, giving him quite good head. Eventually, you reached the back of your throat and tried not to gag. The last bit of Ashton’s ten inch dick that you couldn’t fit in your mouth you began to pump with your right hand. 

“Good girl.” Ashton moaned, throwing his head back. 

You began to bob your head faster and harder, matching the erotic noises coming from Calum’s mouth beside you as he got himself off. By this point, Michael and Luke had returned from the bathroom where they had cleaned themselves up and were watching the current threesome with wide eyes. They were so used to being dommed by Ashton and Calum that although they weren’t getting fucked themselves, watching them fuck you was a treat in itself. 

“Oh baby, makin’ me feel so good.” Ash said, tugging on your hair and wiggling his hips.

You looked up at him and tried to smile, giving him one last suck as you felt his dick twitch, indicating his need to cum. 

“Gonna cum, Y/N.” he panted. 

Ashton pulled your hair tightly one more time before releasing, all of his cum shooting down your throat. You pulled off his dick, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and smiling. You were absolutely exhausted and the feeling of Ashton’s cum coating your throat was making you feel beyond good. 

“Thank you.” You whispered. 

“You’re such a good girl,” Ashton cooed, kissing your forehead. 

Just as he said that, Calum reached his own climax and came in his hand, moaning loudly. He smirked as he realized the other four of you had just watched him get off and based by the lustful looks in all of your eyes, you had enjoyed it. 

“That’s so hot…” Luke whispered, blue eyes wide. 

Ashton pulled a pack of baby wipes out of his nightstand and pulled a few out before passing the pack to Luke. “Help with aftercare, sweet boy.”

The blond began to wipe down Calum’s chest and hand, leaving kisses along his tanned body as Michael wrapped him in a cuddle. Ashton did the same for you, wiping down your mouth and chest, making sure to praise you and leave kisses all over your body. He quickly wiped himself down before laying down and pulling you into his chest. 

You two scooted over to where Michael, Luke, and Calum were laying. “Band cuddle,” You giggled sleepily. “Thank you guys. For helping me have my first group hookup.” You chuckled. 

“We should get Y/N’s moans sampled into a song,” Luke suggested. “That would sell so many fuckin’ records.”

You giggled softly, leaning over and planting a kiss on his cheek. “I love you guys. All of you.” 

You got a chorus of “I love you, Y/N”’s back, which made you feel so warm inside. You and this band had had nothing but love for each other for the past nine years. Now, you were finally getting to show it in more ways than one, and you couldn’t be happier. 

[torialefay]

this may be kind of an unusual question so feel free to ignore it, but i tend to make lots of links and associations of concepts/situations with music and stuff and so i'm curious, what are some songs that you'd pick to describe what it would be like to be in a relationship with chan? or some songs that suit his placements (for example, i think work song by hozier is peak scorpio venus devotion level haha)

okay i LOVE this question!!! (also currently in a hozier phase so i love that you brought up that song.) if you have any other recs, pls send them my way, but here's some that had come to mind:

✨🎶 Dating Channie Sounds Like 🎶✨

the friendship/relationship stage:

i don't think it's just me who thinks that chan is gonna have to know & be friends with someone before progressing to a romantic relationship. i think he could definitely pine over someone for a while and be too scared to say anything. and then if something DID happen between the two of you, you would have to hide it for a while. that's why i chose these 2 songs :)

• human - dodie ft tom walker ✨

• hush hush - the band camino✨

actual committed relationship phase:

• medicine - royal sugar ✨ this gives me such new-relationship, pent-up sexual tension vibes. this man would not be able to stop thinking ab you sexually when you first get together... 100%. sex w/ him is likely initially more fun, like in this song, but once he gets to KNOW you, it gets wayyyy deeper

• so in love - ed sheeran ✨ this one might be a cop-out bc chan has sung it multiple times on channie's room but i couldn't NOT put it in here.

• mess is mine - vance joy ✨ i'm sorry but the lyrics "this body is yours and mine" & "now your mess is mine" is so channie-coded to me. he is offering himself up to you. anything you want from him is yours & he will take on all of your hurt

• fire and the flood AND lay it on me - vance joy ✨ these were just so all-encompassing, i couldn't not include them.

• until you - ahi ✨ this song really throws me into a pre-debut channie love story tbh. bless his little heart 💔

• anointed - miguel AND religion - lana del rey ✨ these have the same vibe, so i'm including them together. when channie is truly in love with you, he won't fuck you- he fucking worships you. well, you worship each other in the bedroom. and i feel this a million times. he needs something deeper and he needs to feel consumed in it.

tough times/drifting apart/ fights:

sorry but i had to include a couple of angsty songs i could totally see playing out in a relationship w channie </3

• fleeting love - royal sugar ✨ i 100% see this song being about your struggles with a long distance relationship. not being able to work anything out, but also not being able to let them go. you just want him so badly

• berenstein - the band camino ✨ chan always talks about alternate universes, so i had to add this one in. the line "at another place in time, you were infinitely mine," it makes me think so much about if you were perfect with channie, and you both knew that... but you simply couldn't be with him because of his idol life. but you knew that somewhere out there in a parallel universe, he wasn't an idol, and you were together like you were meant to be :((((

bonus song:

this song reminds me SO MUCH of chris. the first time i heard it, i instantly thought of him. it isn't a love song by any means, it just makes me think of him && his life ❤️

• time's eyes - riley pearce ✨

if anyone has a song they automatically think of with channie, pls pls pls let me knowwww!!!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

✨✨✨ (so I can id my post)

Aita for not wanting another color guard member to be in leadership when I’m technically not either?

I (m18) am a junior in high school and have been doing color guard since the winter of my freshman year (over 2 years at this point) and besides our seniors, (who, for obvious reasons, are not going to be there next year) I am the oldest and most experienced person in our guard. Our captain is a senior, and since July, people have been saying that they think I should replace her as captain next year. I’ve been wanting to be captain after her since before then. We aren’t doing winter guard this year, but the past couple of months, we’ve been meeting after school on Wednesdays to practice. Our current captain and only other squad leader are both seniors so they haven’t been coming, making us leaderless for the time being. I’m more likely than not going to be captain next year, given that I’m the only person who’s willing and qualified, and have been attempting to step up to the plate with these practices, but but am having some problems with a certain member that we’ll call K (nb14/15).

When I told K that we’d be doing the practices weekly and gave them some of the details, they said that they knew already and that they were the one to organise it with our band director. This confused me, because I was the one who talked to our BD about the practices and she said nothing about having already talked to K about it, but I figured that it was just a communication mess-up and moved on.

The next week, I reminded everyone that we’d have practice after school on Wednesday at a specific time and in a specific place. On Wednesday, I went to the assigned place, but nobody was there, which confused and worried me because I had seen everyone that was going to be there earlier. I was legitimately really worried because even when I called/texted everyone that was supposed to be there, I was not getting a response. I’m kind of freaking out at this point, so I go to the band room to ask our band director if she’s seen them, and she tells me that they were in the gym. I go to the gym, and everyone’s in there, already practicing. I was pretty upset, because I’d told multiple people multiple times that I’d be at practice, which was happening in another place and when that changed nobody came to get me, but I brushed this off as a miscommunication. At this point, I was starting to notice that K has been doing a lot of stuff without talking to me first, and sometimes was getting information about specific guard stuff before me.

The next day, I ask K if there was a way that we could meet up for lunch to talk about color guard next year, because they were taking on certain leadership roles lately and I didn’t want to undermine them, but wanted to be able to handle things myself. They said that they were busy that week and next because of an English assignment (which shouldn’t be taking up lunch time for a full week, but I digress) and I took it and told them to get in touch with me when they were available to meet. I reminded them the next week, but they said that they were still too busy.

A couple weeks later, a different guard member texted me and said that she, K, and a few others decided that it would be best to cancel practice for the next two weeks because we were all really busy with school work that week, and had a special school event the next week. I was a little annoyed that I hadn’t been involved in this conversation, but was ok with it because I needed the time anyway. Two weeks go by, it’s Wednesday, and I’m about to go home because I thought we wouldn’t have practice, but when I passed the place that we usually meet at, everyone was there and was practicing. This time I was legitimately upset and pulled K to the side and told them that if they’re going to make decisions like this, they’re going to have to make sure EVERYONE is told, because good leadership requires communication, they apologized and we tried to move on with practice, but I left early, because there wasn’t enough space for me and it didn’t really seem like anyone wanted me there. (And even though K apologized, I was still upset about the situation)

This week (at the time of submitting) I wasn’t able to go because I was sick, but it was also the first time that some new people would be practicing, so I texted K and told them to teach them drop spins and pull hits. They responded and said that they’d taught them before so they knew what they were doing. I had not heard of this happening before then and it threw me off, but I was too tired to do anything.

this makes me look really bad, but there are a few things to take into consideration:

Before this all went down, it was sort of mutually established between us that I would be taking over next year, so it’s not like K is just doing what needs to be done, because I’ve been doing it already.

K is a freshman, and has only done color guard for one season, so they’re under experienced for the role that they’re attempting to take on

I mean this as no offense to them, because they work really hard and legitimately love guard, but K isn’t very good at it. This wouldn’t usually bother me, but I’m scared that they’re going to teach the rookies the wrong technique and it’s going to slow them down at band camp next year

I have a plan for what next year could look like, that I’m pretty positive that K would like, but I need to talk to them about it first and they’ve sort of been avoiding me.

What are these acronyms?

[x-liv25-jamieswife]

sad avery head canons

@ariscats requested this in a comment under my sad grayson hcs, and i'm more than happy to do it for my fav girl avery. trigger warning for self-harm, suicidal thoughts, and sexual assault. pls don't read if this might trigger you, and if you ever need help, there are helplines you can contact for free. family and friends are obviously also an option (if you'd rather talk to a stranger, you can always dm me (or whoever you feel comfortable with) <3). sorry if some of this doesn't make sense. i wrote this at 1 am. hope you enjoy<3.

avery used to pull out a guitar (cause i hc she can play the guitar) and sing songs for her mom when she was on her death bed

she now visits her mom's grave and does the same thing. she sings her mom's favorite songs on the verge of tears (if she isn't already crying).

avery used to wear an elastic band around her wrist and would snap it repeatedly until her wrist became sore and red (it didn't always make her stop though) when she was feeling overwhelmed or did smth she deemed wrong.

whenever avery would drive across bridges or anything really high up, she would think about jumping off of it.

she used to get her mom or libby to help her bake cookies that she would bring to school to try to get people to become her friend (it never worked)

she used to eat lunch in the back of the courtyard in a secluded place most of the time bc no one wanted to eat with her (until she met max obviously)

i'm currently rereading tig and i can't help but notice how uncomfortable she becomes when someone touches her so i hc drake or some other random creep sexually assaulted her once (or multiple times) and that's the reason why she seems so uncomfortable with physical touch.

she used to cry in her mom's arms wondering why she wasn't good enough for people to want to be her friend

when her and libby were struggling to get by and couldn't afford food, she would save the food for libby and not eat (she would tell her she ate at the diner she worked at but didn't)

when she realized, at the age of six, that her father was a piece of shit who didn't actually want her, she started trying to find faults in her to explain why this might be (she thought that if she could 'fix' herself, her father might want her)

she sometimes purposely gives herself papercuts when she feels really numb just to make herself feel something

when she would live in her car, she would sometimes continuously bash her head on the steering wheel wishing her life could be different.

when she was younger, to get people to like her, she would give them everything she had. she would do their homework for them, would cover for them when they wanted to cause trouble in the school, etc, but, in the end, it was always temporary

whenever she comes across someone who looks like sheffield grayson she freezes up in fear/shock. a little voice in her head tells her she's in danger and they'll hurt her.

after all of the almost-death experiences she's been through, she developed a panic disorder (this is already sort of confirmed) that she has to treat with pills.

she sometimes takes the haters' comments to heart (the comments about her weight, etc). she would start telling herself that skipping one meal wouldn't hurt. jameson noticed really early on though and stopped her before it became too severe.

she's convinced people would be better off without her and that she only causes pain and destruction everywhere she goes (bc of what happened with toby)

she actually hates getting drunk because it reminds her too much of her father. jameson started to notice that she would get really uncomfortable whenever he got drunk so he started to drink less. when he did drink though, he made sure it wasn't enough to get drunk.

because of everyone comparing her to emily, she's convinced herself that she's just jamie's second option and she'll never measure up (personality wise, looks wise, everything). jamie and her talked about it a lot and she's now less insecure.

she gets terrified when she hears noises at night bc she's convinces someone's there to hurt her

she forgives people so easily bc she desperately wants people to actually like her.

in the books she says she doesn't allow herself to want to want things bc it could potentially distract her/hurt her. i also think she doesn't allow herself to want things bc she doesn't think she deserves to want anything.

when she's in a stressful situation or she's having a panic attack, she'll start scratching her arms really roughly until they start to bleed to get herself to focus on anything other than the stress/panic.

the scratches on her arms became too obvious so she started scratching her sides instead.

she can't watch any tv shows with violence/war bc the loud sounds remind her too much of the shooting.

one of the reasons why she realized her father was a piece of shit was bc, once, he got way too drunk and slapped her. that was sort of like the catalyst for her.

bc she grew up so isolated, she's afraid of emotional and physical intimacy. she's afraid she'll start liking feeling loved/close to someone too much since she believes it'll never last (jamie showed her she was wrong)

i'm an averyjameson stan so don't take this the wrong way but avery was affected by jamie thinking of her as only a game way more than she lets on. even after they got together, she was paranoid that he had ulterior motives.

she blames herself whenever something goes wrong in the foundation or hawthorne house even when she had nothing to do with the problem.

she's extremely paranoid when it comes to locking her bedroom door and stuff like that bc of how often her privacy is invaded.

i said this in another post but, especially before she inherited the money, she would sometimes smoke weed to lessen the stress she felt for a little while.

she hates going to sleep bc her sleep is always invaded by horrendous nightmares. it became so bad she ended up in the hospital (jamie was absolutely terrified and made her promise to talk to him more).

she has this one stuffed animal that her mom gave her not long before she passed that she cries into whenever she feels like her life is going to shit.

before she inherited the money, she was actually near her breaking point. she was seriously considering if staying alive was actually worth it.

before she inherited the money, she used to count on her fingers how many people would miss her when she died to convince herself to stay alive (the number was never more than three). the fact that the number was so low made her feel even shittier and made her spiral.

her grief for her mom is so intense sometimes she can't get out of bed. she doesn't eat, sleep, drink water, etc. alisa had to contact a therapist/psychiatrist to help avery get out of bed.

to end on a brighter note, here's a happy avery head canon:

she used to dance all the time when she was younger. she would pull out her mom's phone, start playing some music, and jump around waving her tiny little arms everywhere whilst singing along. she would pretend she was a popstar. her mom would film her and send the videos to libby. the brothers have seen all of them bc libby showed them.

not proof read so i apologize for any spelling mistakes<3. again, pls contact someone/helpline if you ever need help. speaking from experience, things tend to get better. sending everyone lots of love (and my girl avery).

[drivelikeiido]

25 with matty who’s very drunk or very high and he’s forgotten that the reader is already his gf so he’s trying to (really badly) flirt with her

a poor attempt at flirting (a drabble)

25: “Do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?”

matty healy x f! reader word count: 1.1k warnings: mentions of alcohol and weed consumption and poor writing due to many months off :/ notes: kay is back and attending to her inbox! thank you for this prompt my dear and ever so sorry it's taken me 6 months to complete it! anyways i'm not really a fan of this but it was sitting in my drafts and i wanna get back to posting so this is a start ! i promise the writing will get better from here on out mwah so accept this as a peace offering for now <3

You had awoken at 1:06am to a phone call from a very exasperated sounding Hann who had politely begged you to come and take your rather high boyfriend off of the boys’ hands as they couldn’t handle his intoxicated rambling much longer and they all know your patience for Matty far exceeds any of theirs.

This is how you’ve landed in some random party in the city filled with musicians and producers and many other peoples’ faces you half recognise while trying to collect your boyfriend. Thankfully all the boys are easily spotted due to their height (and Ross’ unmistakable mane of hair, which he thankfully lets go wild when he’s drunk). George unabashedly hollers over to you when he sees you, raising his ring-clad hands and waving you over, his smile lopsided and his eyes betraying his lack of sobriety as you make your way over to them. He says nothing but points a painted nail to a mop of curls resting on the table, head leaning on his hand while the other nurses a glass of some dark and clearly long forgotten liquid, his face hidden by the length of deep brown ringlets that fall from the top of his head. You’d recognise your boyfriend anywhere but his hair and it’s current messy state you could clock him from miles away, the stray curls resemblant of his unkempt morning bedhead that you love so much. Your heart momentarily warms at the sight until you remember the reason you’re there. You slowly make your way to sit at the table next to him, your movements slow and your eyes never leaving his form.

Once you’re seated you reach your hand slowly out to his, ghosting your fingers over his tattooed arm in an attempt to grab your boyfriend’s attention. He begrudgingly lifts his head up from where it was rested and you can barely just make out his dark hooded eyes from behind the loose curls that fall in front of his face, reaching down and tickling his nose. He releases the drink from his other hand and pushes the unruly strands backwards onto his head, remaining silent and blinking at you multiple times before he speaks. 

“You’re really pretty”. His voice is light and airy and even if you didn't know him as well as you did you’d still be able to sense his inebriated state, however the smell of weed and alcohol makes it overtly clear.

This causes you to laugh, “Thank you. So are you Matty.” you utter with a grin, gaining a surprised intake of breath from the singer, a rush of colour taking to his already flushed cheeks. 

His surprise continues as he lets out a whispered “You know me? What the hell”, his dark eyes now wide with wonder. You ignore the chorus of laughs in the background that you can only assume comes from the rest of the band at their frontman’s embarrassing display of forgetfulness. Being well acquainted with Matty’s intoxicated states you’ve experienced similar situations to this before, all of which have been incredibly entertaining.

Your giggle at his clueless response seems to spur his joy farther, his face breaking out into a lopsided smile. Your boyfriend is a pretty sight when he’s intoxicated, with his dark eyes and messy curls and the intoxicating scent of his expensive aftershave and the sweet weed smoke; if you didn't have to worry about getting him home you’d maybe indulge his flirting fantasy for just a little longer.

You grab onto his lithe fingers and move to slowly guide him up, “Let’s get you outside Darling”. His tiredness seems to have dissipated into excitement at this point as he quickly moves to follow you outside, letting out a hushed “Yes!” and doing what you can only imagine is some victorious movement of celebration out of your line of vision, encouraging even more laughs and hollers from the rest of the band, the phrase “What a twat” seeming to be a shared sentiment amongst the group as they laugh in agreement .

Thankfully, leading your rather drunk and high boyfriend outside is an easier feat than you expected; he eagerly holds onto your hand as you guide him and he too joins you in a large intake of the crisp night air once you make it outside. You stop and situate you both carefully against the wall in an attempt to gather yourself and your boyfriend. Matty however takes this as an opportunity to look up and down between you and the night sky and if you looked closely at him you’re sure you’d be able to see the moon’s ring of light reflecting perfectly in his chestnut eyes, giving them a further element of sparkle than what they normally have. 

He soon surprises you as he takes both of your hands in earnest and holds them delicately between his infinitely larger, but cold fingers. 

“Do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?” . The suddenness of this adorable (yet uncharacteristically cheesy) pickup line startles you, the innocence of his state and how he still compliments you works to warm your body against the harsh cold. You find it funny how a man who normally displays such an astounding example of romanticism is reduced to something so simple in this state.

You simply shake your head in amusement and press a chaste kiss to his cheek, “Come on, Healy let’s get you home”. To this he grows juvenile and argues “No. I want to stay here and stare at you longer”. As sweet as the sentiment is you realise you’re going to have to play into his delusions even more, only a little bit offended that your boyfriend still seems to have forgotten you but you make sure to keep it in your arsenal to tease him with in the morning.

Your only attempt at reasoning with him works as you gradually win him over by offering to let him stare at you as long as he wants in the car and when you do eventually get home. Although this works on the stubborn man he still puts up some of a fight as he lowers his head and mumbles “You’re too pretty to be bossy” and although you can’t see it you’re sure a cartoon-like frown make its way across his features as he says this. You ignore him and slowly lead him into the passenger seat of the car, buckling him in despite his insistence he can do it - he’s passenger princess this evening and you’re making the most of it. After reaching the second set of traffic lights you realise that his plans to overtly stare at you are unfulfilled as he had at some point fallen asleep, his heavy head resting haphazardly against the window. You simply smile and lower the radio, already planning just how you’re going to torment him with tonight’s events in the morning.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: Sugar & Spice (Spoiled)

In which Jungkook might be spoiling you a lot- but he's also more than capable of reminding you of your manners if his love gets to your head.

Tags/Warnings: Raccoon Hybrid!Reader x Idol!Jungkook, established relationship, opposites attract because I love that concept, are you tired of my hybrid stories yet because I'm not, fluff, romance, smut, jealous koo, slice of life, ddlg themes

Chapter length: short

Other content: Intro, calm

━━━━━━━━━━.~°♡°~.━━━━━━━━━━━

"Don't you think he's.. babying her a bit too much? I mean, she's technically not even that much younger than him.." Namjoon wonders to Seokjin next to him, everyone on break right now after practice.

Both he and his older bandmate are currently watching the youngest Idol of the group lay on his back in the middle of the dance hall they use to practice in, the singer uncaring of any eyes on him as he has you laid out on his stomach, playing around with your ears.

"Even if he does, it's not our business." Seokjin shrugs, setting his water bottle down. "He's old enough to make those choices, and she seems more than happy with the way he treats her." The oldest singer responds, smiling as Jungkook adjusts your collar around your neck, fingers turning the identification marks to look at them fondly.

"I know.." Namjoon sighs. "I just- I don't know. It's still a little odd seeing him bring her along so much. I guess I never really saw them interact so much." He explains, and Jin nods.

The oldest had looked after you multiple times throughout the years Jungkook has had you- So to him, there's nothing odd about seeing you around the singer. He's gotten used to it, knows you and him and most of all your relationship fairly well- but what Namjoon said is true. Only recently has the singer decided to openly bring you along to schedules and meetings, considering that the management had revealed you to the public in a controlled manner. Now that there's nothing to fear anymore when it comes to Jungkook's Livestreams for example, he's clearly more than eager to have you around as much as he can now.

But while he, and Jin, and Taehyung all know you very well, and know how you both act and behave around one another, to the rest of the band, it's still very much a new sight.

Jungkook however doesn't notice the glances and stares at all it seems, as he wraps his arms around your middle, your body heavy but not uncomfortable on top of his own. "You wanna take a bath together when we come home later?" He wonders, watching how you rest the side of your head now on his chest.

"Hmhm." You hum affirmative, making him chuckle.

"You tired?" He asks, and you nod again, stretching your legs a little. "So all you're doing when I'm at work is napping? What a lazy bear, sleeping while I work my ass off!" He teases, fingers suddenly attacking your sides, making you squeak in surprise. He can hear some staff and Seokjin laugh in the background as you roll away from him playfully, leading to the Idol crawling after you, catching you easily as he pulls you in, hugging you tightly.

"Alright you two, lets get back to work." Jin claps, making Jungkook audibly whine, but comply- albeit not without teasingly smacking your butt as you get up to walk away from him back to your spot at the side. Taehyung gently pets your head as he walks past you, and the others also share some glances with you before they continue to work on their choreography.

It's later that they see a more relaxed and mature side of the youngest, as he carefully carries you to the car, completely in control and aware of everything- from the obvious like your jacket and bag, to the more smaller details like the fact that he needs to wake you up in the car or you'll get a headache later.

And later, back home and away from prying eyes, Jungkook relaxes with you in his arms, warm and tired after some rather heated bath time. "Jungkookie?" You wonder, mumbled more or less into his chest, as he hums. "Do you think I bother the others at work?" You ask, and he shrugs.

"Don't think so." He answers, voice already a bit raspy from his tiredness. "You're not in the way for all I know. And I like having you around me more these days." He tells you, pressing a kiss to the side of your face. "Don't worry about that, alright?" He tells you, and you nod.

"You think they like me?" You ask, yawning and making him laugh.

"Not as much as I do." He says, tangling his legs with yours. "Cause I love you most." He hums.

"Maybe I love you more though?" You ask, and he playfully turns to bite at your neck, making you laugh.

"Are you talking back at me right now, you brat?" He growls, and you simply nuzzle back into his neck, clearly submissive at his tone of voice. "Now sleep, we can be lazy tomorrow all we want." He reminds you, and you nod, letting yourself fall asleep with his hand lazily running over your back-

only stopping when he himself starts to dream alongside you as well.