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#and again the fact they hug with so much tender

anantaru · 3 months

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— cute things they do unintentionally

including wriothesley, zhongli, neuvillette, diluc x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, established relationship, neck kisses, lots of physical affection

— wriothesley + always walks closest to the street

in the early stages of your relationship, wriothesley has shown the first, out of the many following, indications of his overall protective nature towards you— and do not misunderstand him, because obviously he wasn't making it somewhat overbearing.

he knows you are capable of doing things on your own, but he wants to be the one who does them for you instead. it fills him with joy, and the duke finds himself squeezing his eyes shut, indulging in the memories and thoughts and hope that they would never cease to invade his newfound paradise.

so to speak, it's sort of a way to show you his love in a contrasting kind of sense other than telling you his affection through words or physical touch— with his heart-melting gestures and tender warmth, wriothesley will stop to walk for a split second before softly pulling you farthest from the street as he walks closest.

it was silly— and romantic, and there's a drop of silence before you hear him hum in merriment, his eyes sparkling like the stars.

full of feeling, your cheeks were poignant of a flaming prickle, your whole body burned like fire at his touch as you eagerly listen to what story your boyfriend was telling you about, his smile bringing you the most lustrous light when you entangle your fingers into his arm to press his frame against you.

and suddenly, your lips are tingling with the desire to kiss him, his lips as pink as pink delights. what's the sweetest part about it all was that wriothesley wasn't doing any of this intentionally— in fact, it had always come down to the way he has been all of his life, protective and sheltering, benevolent to the people closest to his heart.

— zhongli + kisses your forehead whenever you meet

"hello, my love," zhongli's face lights up the moment he sees you, and it's a lot more personal by how particularly he smiled at you— because before catching your frame in midst the busy streets of liyue, his facial features were stern and a little frozen, although when he finally finds you, he smiles and it takes away his cold instantly, a slow upturn of his mouth revealing small dimples around his sides.

"i missed you," he admits, and zhongli moves closer before capturing your cheeks in his warm palms, planting a subtle kiss on your forehead as he presses you against his chest firmly— his golden eyes bright enough to make even broken glass glow and shimmer like a treasure on its own again.

you mumble out through a chain of muffled words at the slightly tight embrace of your boyfriend, "i missed you too," and listlessly wrap your arms around his waist, "in fact, i missed you more," you tease as he presses dozen of little kisses on your head.

as much as zhongli would love to hug you for what he sought out to be eternity, he knows he cannot remain like this forever, at least not while being crowded by the people of liyue— although pondering about it more deeply, he figured that theoretically speaking, he could be able to hug you from day to night without letting you go, but people might start looking at you both so that'll be a negative and turn things uncomfortable.

"you know it's impossible for you to miss me more?" he slowly pulls you off his chest before pinching your cheek, "i long for you day and night," as his grin shines in tandem with the dancing joy of his eyes, unable to tear their focus away from you.

— neuvillette + can't stop worshipping you

after a long, arduous day consisting of responsibilities, you plopped onto the giant, comfortable bed you shared with neuvillette before you felt the mattress slightly dip under the added weight of his body as he climbs over to lean one arm around your frame.

as he does this, his face instantly burns into the nook of your neck before he begins to caress it— obviously in those moments he was content with you, starting with a handful of soft, warm kisses until he could feel you smile, or notice your body heat raise.

it's pretty clear his senses were sharp, you cannot hide anything from your boyfriend, even if you tried.

you yawn out, opening your arms for his body to properly nestle in before wrapping your limbs around his frame to keep him close, "what did i do to deserve this?" you whisper sarcastically, squeezing him a little tighter into you, "is something the matter?"

neuvillette hums deeply before smothering one hand from your chest to your hips, his lips stretching into a lazy smile, creating a swirling haven on his handsome face, "nothing at all, everything is fine," he assures you with another kiss, his hot breath fanning over the dampened skin on your neck.

basking into the comfortable engage of your arms around his frame, he continues, "i have simply missed what's mine, that is all,"

"and you deserve this," you hear him mumble, "each and every day to be admired and loved,"

he places a kiss on your shoulder, the softness of his lips compelling, "i want to give you this," as he slowly continues to slide his lips over your collarbone, full of passionate crescendos.

your skin trembles and goosebumps arise on your neck as you unwind to his skilled. tender interludes, precisely in neuvillette taking care of you, shooting you a gentle smile before he searches for your lips next.

— diluc + likes to hold your hand all the time

it doesn't matter where the both of you were or what activity you participated in, because for neither diluc nor you this was something out of the ordinary anymore and began to become a necessity— like breathing, he required your touch, and his heart fluttered every time he felt your energy invade his.

your laugh was his favorite sound and your voice was the last tune he needed to hear before he'd close his eyes, always awaiting the flicker of longing in your caress.

but before you have found each other in this relationship, the master of the dawn winery has never considered himself to be an overly touchy individual, in fact, he was everything else but pleased whenever someone would become way too comfortable with him and overstep any boundaries.

what's funny about love is that how fast it can change things in someone— beyond looks, touches or shared smiles, there were feelings that only you two were able to understand.

diluc hadn't realized how easy and effortless it can be the moment you meet your soulmate, it's transparent and pure and you cannot get enough of them, it's useless to even try and you want to feel them again and again, until their warmth swathes through your skin and intertwines like dancers in a ballet.

in the beginning, it had started with quick and easy placements of his palm on your back or around your shoulders, but after a while, diluc wanted to turn it a little more intimate— he didn't say anything or mention it to you, but one day at a silent night in mondstadt, when he looked at you, really looked at you, he held your hand, his thumb tracing your knuckles in a silent confession of love and affirmation.

to diluc ragnvindr, the act of falling in love was the acknowledgement that he was in the presence of someone so special that it aches his heart, a journey with unexpected twists and turns— for the first time and in that moment, he knew that you were deserving of love to the fullest, without holding back.

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babyleostuff · 3 months

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how svt cuddle their s/o when asleep | ot13

❥ seungcheol

clingy teddy bear

you can say goodbye to your personal space because with cheol you won’t have any. his limbs are wrapped all around you, so good luck if you need to get up to the bathroom at any point during the night. he moves a lot in his sleep but somehow he always ends up with 90% of his body draped over yours. not to mention he holds you with so much strength, and for what, it’s like he’s scared you’re going to magically disappear from bed.

❥ jeonghan

the softest cuddles all night long

it doesn't matter how you cuddle - whether he’s the big spoon, small spoon, you have your head on his chest, or if you only have a leg draped over him - the cuddles are the softest and the most gentle. he holds you with so much tenderness and care you start to wonder if he’s really asleep. hannie might be a menace during the day, but the second he’s in the comfort of your shared bedroom he becomes the biggest cuddle bug that holds you with so much gentleness.

❥ joshua

always touching you

even if you’re not cuddled up to each other, joshua needs to have at least his hand on your body, to know that you’re there - on your hip, arm, back, tummy - it doesn’t matter, as long as he's touching you he can sleep peacefully. if you ever move away from him in your sleep, he’s quick to put an arm around your waist to pull you back closer to him, and place his hand on your lower abdomen again. sometimes he doesn’t even realise he’s doing that - joshua got so used to touching you in his sleep that now he usually reaches for you without giving it a second thought.

❥ jun

little koala

jun is always wrapped around you in some way, he loves being close to you - especially in the safety of your bedroom, where you are alone, cuddled under the covers, enjoying the fact that you can soak up each other's presence - even in your sleep. if jun moves away from you at night, then he just rolls over back to you, his sleepy brain too tired to use any strength to lift himself up. he then most often buries his head in your neck, and throws one of his arms across your belly or waist - because he needs that physical touch, especially after days spent apart from each other.

❥ hoshi

latches himself onto you and doesn't let go

soonyoung just sticks to you and never lets go, not even for a second - you can try and pry him off, and he’ll just grab you and throw his body over yours. anytime he moves (and he moves a lot) you pray that he takes some of his body weight off of you because sometimes you feel like you can't breathe. you know he doesn't mean anything bad with his cuddles, hoshi would never hurt you, and besides - you spend so little time together because of his work, so a little bit of suffocating love won't hurt anyone.

❥ wonwoo

cuddles that feel like home

he is the biggest undercover cuddle bug - he acts like he’s not a fan of hugs and physical touch in general, but the second you put the blankets over the both of you wonwoo turns into a whole another person. most nights he’s the one holding you - your weight calms him down and helps him fall asleep, and he’d never tell you this, but they make him feel safe - you’re his little comfort blanket. he holds you with such tenderness, warmth, affection and love that sometimes it’s overwhelming how loved he makes you feel just with his cuddles. his arms, his chest, his lips against your cheek, his steady breathing, the calm beating of his heart - it all feels like home.

❥ woozi

face to face

jihoon likes his space, so he’s not big on cuddling - but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to stay close to you. he likes the reassurance that even though you’re not touching you’re still so close and you can quietly enjoy each other's presence, without feeling the need to be all over each other - that's why you usually end up falling asleep face to face. and it's not that jihoon absolutely hates your touch - when he sometimes wakes up in the night and sees your leg thrown over his, or his hand resting on yours - it makes his sleep even better afterwards. it’s these silent and unnoticable touches that matter most to him.

❥ dk

clingiest puppy

seokmin happily skips over to your bedroom every night, because that means cuddles all night long! how you cuddle - that’s not important to him - he just needs to be next to you. to be honest, seokmin can’t remember a night when you weren't cuddling, it’s a must or else he’s not able to fall asleep - you’re his favourite teddy bear/ blanket/ pillow. he usually moves around a bit in his sleep, so you cuddle in many ways and you always wake up in a different position than when you fell asleep (even if by some miracle he ends up at the end of the bed, his arm will be bent at some strange angle just so he's touching you).

❥ mingyu

head nuzzled into your neck

despite what everyone thinks, gyu doesn't always want to be the big spoon - your big and hard-working man most often wants to be held by you. he loves the feeling of your arms around his body - it makes him feel so safe and loved. he can just be himself, he can be mingyu - your mingyu. since you are his priority though, he always asks if you are comfortable and if you really want him to lie on you since he knows his bodyweight can be a bit suffocating. despite the fact that in theory you’re holding him, mingyu still finds a way to wrap his arms around you.

❥ minghao

your head over his heart

hao would never tell you this, but having your head resting over his heart is more calming and grounding than any meditation - there is just something about having the love of your life resting their head over his heart that makes him feel so peaceful - you’re like two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together. he can also hold and touch you when you sleep cuddled up like that, but you’re still perfectly comfortable and each of you have your space, so it’s not overbearing for either of you. to sum up - hao’s cuddles = tender love expressed by gentle touches.

❥ seungkwan

little spoon

does not care that “a man should always be the big spoon” (which is bullshit) - seungkwan lives and breathes to be held by you, he absolutely adores having your arms around him with his back pressed against your chest. he makes sure both of you are properly covered and tucked in before saying your goodnights, and you stay like that for the whole night (you kind of look like two shrimps laying next to each other). seungkwan usually grabs your hand that is resting on his tummy and intertwines your fingers because he’s a sucker for physical touch and he just likes holding your hand :))))

❥ vernon

intertwined fingers

not the biggest cuddler, but vernon still likes to touch you in a way that lets you sleep comfortably without suffocating in each other’s arms. he didn’t even realise how he always reached for your hand when you said your goodnights until you pointed it out recently - it’s just something so natural to him - you lay down, talk a bit before going to sleep, he gives you a sweet peck to your cheek, and then he grabs your hand. somehow, vernon has no idea how, even when he wakes up in the middle of the night - your fingers are still intertwined, and it always makes him so mushy and fluffy on the inside.

❥ chan

your big strong protector

channie just wants you to feel safe and protected when you sleep so you don’t have to worry about anything, and that if something ever happens you have him to take care of you. he holds you gently and with so much tenderness, yet the weight of his arm that is draped over your waist screams “sleep my love, i’ll protect you.” it doesn’t matter how you cuddle, chan always finds a way to wrap himself around you. and as much as you believe in the fact that he cuddles you so you feel safe, you also know that he’s just a big cuddle bug and wants to be close to you (especially because in the mornings he usually wakes up in your arms).

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @soul-is-a-strange-kid @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys

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saetoru · 8 months

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ KISS IT BETTER — GETO SUGURU.

contents. post hidden inventory arc, healing suguru agenda !!, fluff + established relationships, suguru has nightmares :(, chest kissies for sugu <3, reader lays on top of him, like very cheesy banter my bad

suguru gets nightmares—it’s expected, but it’s not easy. it breaks your heart—very painfully so—every time he jolts up with frantic eyes and labored breaths.

he tries to shake you off and pretend he’s fine the first few times, but by the time it’s happened enough, he resigns himself to letting you handle things, just like you always do.

it’s easier when you handle things—he’s starting to realize that more.

“another one?” you mumble through a yawn, sitting up and hugging him from behind as your cheek rests on his bare back. he grunts, hunched over with his head in his hands.

“‘s okay,” he says quietly, “you can go back to sleep.”

“we both know i’m not doing that, suguru,” you hum, palm rubbing slow circles into his abs. he sighs, melting into your touch eventually as he leans against you, head falling back to lay on your shoulder.

“sorry,” he whispers, “i didn’t wanna wake you.”

“i wish you would,” you hum, tracing his nose delicately as you kiss the side of his head, “i wish you’d let me help, baby.”

“you already help enough,” he mutters—almost bitterly, you note, “i don’t need to make you lose sleep over it.”

“you’d do the same for me,” you say gently, “wouldn’t you?”

“of course,” he says instantly.

sometimes, suguru is too kind for the world. it tramples him and leaves him curled on the floor under its cruelty. sometimes, he gives too much and forgets to take, to ask, and it’s starting to show. it’s starting to pile up and become too much and you think, just for once, someone should give to suguru too—because he deserves it.

“it’s a two way street, y’know,” you smile against his temple, “wake me up next time. please?”

“you really wanna see me at my lowest, huh?” he tries to crack a joke and dodge the question—but you know suguru, and you know what he needs. sometimes before he knows himself, even.

“everyone needs someone in their lowest, baby,” you mumble, “it helps more than you think.”

it’s silent for a bit. it’s like that more often than not with suguru these days—he’s silent, prefers the quiet and tender moments alone with you when you happen to catch them. he doesn’t have the energy to talk, and you don’t make him, and he’s grateful. he’s grateful when your fingers weave into his hair and your lips find his cheek, when you’re content with laying your head on his chest and just being there as he thinks.

you look down as he lays against you, his back to your chest and his body slotted between your legs, resting in your hold. it’s silent—he doesn’t always want to talk, and you don’t make him.

and he’s grateful.

finally, he breaks the silence first. “i felt it all over again,” he mumbles, “the…on my…”

his hand instinctively covers his chest, and you know what he means—he doesn’t have to finish, doesn’t have to say anything else before you press a tender kiss to his head. suguru doesn’t have scars on his chest. shoko’s reverse cursed technique heals well enough that the scars on his chest don’t remain even a little. it’s almost like it never happened—no proof of the x shaped slashes from blades to his chest.

but suguru can still feel his skin slicing sometimes—in fact, he thinks he can never forget it.

“hmm,” you think out loud, “well, there’s only one remedy for this i’m afraid.”

he looks up and raises a brow, staring at you before you crawl from under him, letting him plop down against the pillows as your body turns to hover over his.

“what are you—”

“mwah,” you press a wet kiss to his chest, starting from his collarbone before continuing in a diagonal line down the rest of his sternum. he can’t help but let his lips slowly widen into a smile with each one, letting out a soft chuckle when you tickle the skin slightly. “i read somewhere that kisses are really good for healing,” you murmur.

“ah yes, your doctorate from webmd is really coming in handy,” he teases, grinning when your lips press against his collarbone once more, on the other side this time as you peck along his chest in another diagonal line. it’s silly, a little pointless even—the wounds have long healed and you can’t even be sure you’re kissing where the scars would be, but suguru seems to brighten considerably with every touch of your lips.

it’s enough.

“well, my handsome patient,” you say cheekily, “did that help?”

“oh yes,” he nods dramatically, “i feel better than ever. thank god i have a gorgeous doctor like you.”

“hmm, i am rather gorgeous,” you brighten, giggling as he pulls you down by the wrist to kiss you softly. his hands are on your cheeks, cupping your face delicately as you hum against his mouth. “better?” you ask pulling away, pecking the corner of his mouth.

he nods, wrapping two strong arms around you as you lay over his body, grinning up at you.

“better,” he assures, “they should let you open up your own clinic. you’d put the hospitals out of business.”

“but suguru,” you gasp, “then i would have to kiss random men—surely you can’t let that happen!”

“you’re right,” he plays along, eyes widening in faux concern, “i can’t. i guess i’ll have to be your only patient.”

you smile at him—it’s radiant enough to clear the dark clouds of his shoulders, gentle enough that he feels the hardened parts of him start to go soft just a little. sometimes, suguru gets nightmares—they’re not easy, but you make them feel a lot less impossible.

it’s enough.

“what a waste of my higher education,” you sigh, “but fine. you’ll be the only one i kiss better.”

“i’m so grateful,” he snorts, pulling the blanket over your bodies as he holds you close.

sleep comes easier that night—and every night after.

i’ve decided to give this lil healing sugu series a tag so it’s: #operation: heal suguru! and you can click the tag below on this post to read the earlier drabbles !!

anyway unseen footage from this moment is that i actually sucked his tiddies as i kissed his chest. bc lord knows he just needed his tiddies sucked and he’d have been 100% happier and fine

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#operation: heal suguru!#geto x reader #geto x you #geto fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #geto suguru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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gay-dorito-dust · 24 days

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How they’d react to you kissing their cheek unexpectedly…

Boothill: seeing as how his face is the only part of him that could actually feel your touch, something he had disclosed with you in confidence and away from preying eyes.

So the moment you pressed a kiss to his cheek, Boothill melts, it was in this moment where he realised how truly touch starved he was ever since acquiring a new body. It made him hate it even more then he already did for he couldn’t experience the joy of holding your hand, having you pressed up against his chest, nothing.

He couldn’t feel none of that and he hates it so fucking much.

He hated the fact that he couldn’t feel you kiss his fingers or feel you press yourself again his back in a hug, nor the kisses that he could only imagine being pressed there, not to mention the times where you would nuzzle your face into his neck for he couldn’t feel that either.

‘Please.’ He pleads when he felt that you were about to pull away, desperately grasping at your waist that he couldn’t feel the flesh of, pulling you back into him. ‘Spare another one of your sweetest kisses for me darlin’?’ He asks in dire need of you and your kisses.

‘I’d happily give you all the kisses you could ever want.’ You replied and Boothill truly believed that you must be a saint or something because how could someone like you be with someone like him? It just doesn’t make sense.

‘Then we’ll be here for a long while sweetheart because I want them all, so don’t you go given them to anyone else, ya hear?’ He says and you only gave him another lingering kiss to his cheek, making him tighten his hold on you.

‘Then shall we get started?’ You asked with a smile.

Aventurine: ‘oh. What’s this? Kissing my cheek without warning me beforehand.’ He gasps as he holds a hand to his heart. ‘How scandalous of you.’

He’d act like your affection has no real effect on him but the faint blush scattered across his cheeks told a very different story. A story that said that he wasn’t use to your tenderness and affection towards him, that he doesn’t deserve you nor your love and that hurt you deeply.

‘It maybe scandalous to you but to me, I just want to show that you’re more than worth every bit of my affection, and just know that nothing anyone will say can persuade me into thinking otherwise.’ You told him and cheeky smirk upon his lips softened with the rest of his face.

‘You…you mean that?’ He says meekly. ‘You’re not joking…are you?’

You pressed another kiss to his cheek, letting it linger there before pulling away. ‘I’d never joke about how much you mean to me, I’m not that heartless or cruel. I adore you my darling, sweet Kakavasha.’ You answered him truthfully. ‘So if you allow me, I can show you just how much I adore you.’

Aventurine didn’t say anything at first, still wondering after all this time if he was really worth everything you’ve done for him, but one look in your eyes and the blonde knew he had his definitive answer. ‘Please show me just how much you love me, make me forget about the voices in my head that make me second guess my worth and just make me yours with every kiss.’

Argenti: thanks you for the cheek kiss before reciprocating with one of his own.

You pout. ‘I’m meant to be spoiling you in affection right now.’

Argenti cocks his head to the side, confused. ‘Why should I allow you to bless me with your kisses and not reciprocate them? Wouldn’t that seem…selfish of me.’ He asks.

‘No it wouldn’t.’ You tell him as you held his face within your hands. ‘I want you to be selfish and let me smother you in affection without feeling the need to do the same becuase you do that enough as it is on a daily basis.’ You stopped to rest your forehead against his forehead, rubbing your nose softly against his own. ‘So please just let me show you how much I care for you and thank you for being you, my sweet knight.’

Argenti sighs, allowing himself to think it over in his head. He didn’t like being selfish, it felt wrong for him to be self-indulgent when he could be the one giving you the affection, but after some time he has finally come to a conclusion. ‘Alright, I willingly concede to your wishes my star, I shall be selfish with your love.’

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sourbinnie · 10 months

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☆ interrupted tenderness ☆

♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> fluff ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> maknae line!skz x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> a member walks in when you're having a moment, how do they react? ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> none ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!

hyung line

jisung ✉

this ball of sunshine did not care about showing all of his love. yet there were times that he got so shy around you, like when you just started dating or when he had his massive crush on you. it was those times where he just got mesmerized by your beauty and by the fact that you were now his. you were at the dorms cuddling on the couch and he couldn't stop looking at you when you talked, every word going through his head but he couldn't move his eyes from your mouth.

"sung if you want a kiss just tell me." you said as you laughed and he couldn't help but blush. he was so caught up that he didn't even know where his eyes were going and that 'caused you to roll his eyes as you got closer to him.

"i can't help it when you look at that." he said and it was your turn to blush. how could he be so sweet? you really got lucky with him. you were leaning in, closer & closer but then you heard someone come in and it was none other than...

"look at our han jisung doing the dirty when we're not home!" changbin yelled and immediately jisung was behind you, a red mess in his face as he covered it with his hands. you couldn't help but laugh though as obviously you were doing absolutely nothing but now as everyone came in with changbin yelling, it got embarrassing.

god you loved these boys but sometimes they were very dramatic. even when you leaned in to where jisung was, giving him a kiss on the cheek, they were all yelling again. you held your boyfriend in your arms as he tried to calm down but it looked like tonight was gonna be pretty much like this.

felix ✉

now he didn't really mind being all lovey dovey in public. but like jisung, he did get super shy sometimes and you couldn't pop him out of his bubble. he would blush easily whenever you showed affection but he would always respond with the double of love. he was such a loving person, with so much to give all the time and you felt blessed to have met him. you were waiting for him backstage as he finished performing and as soon as they were coming, all the boys waved at you, but one in particular threw himself in your arms.

"lix oh my god, you're all sweaty!" you said but hugged him anyways because you did not care. he just laughed as he placed his head on your shoulder and buried himself in you basically.

"having you here watching me is all i needed." he whispered in your ear and that made your heart skip a beat because you were so grateful to have him. he was so tender and sweet to you that you felt like you did not deserve this beautiful person.

"i want to hug (y/n) as well, come on yongbok!" minho said as felix rolled his eyes but did not move from you. he was very much comfortable in the hug which wasn't breaking any time soon.

minho would never admit it but he was very happy to see his friend in such a blissful state. all of the boys were pleased to have you around if felix was gonna be smiling. as for him, he knew he found the one he wanted when you started whispering sweet nothings to his ear as you held him in the middle of everyone, who just happened to be staring at the joyful scene.

seungmin ✉

he was not embarrassed or shy, he just didn't crave affection that much. until he met you and that's all he cared about, being around you, cuddling you, kissing you and just all over you 24/7. he wasn't clingy but he had to let everyone know that you were his (even though everyone knows that). being with him as he taught you one of the new choreos was very special to you. yes you could've asked anyone from danceracha but you wanted to share a moment with your boyfriend.

"(y/n) what are you doing?" he asked as you surrounded his neck with your arms and pulled him closer. his hands going straight to your waist as he held you. you were smirking as you put his forehead against yours and started the slow steps. "you're not making me slow dance, i'll die."

"you're such a drama queen, please? for me?" you said and he just nodded as you continued to have your little moment with him that you would remember forever.

"hyung are you he- oh my god, i need to film this." jeongin said to which seungmin immediately stopped what he was doing and almost dropped you in the process but his pride was on the line, you would understand.

it was impossible not to laugh at blushing seungmin as he hoped the ground would swallow him. of course the maknae had to walk in at such a tender moment but a certain part of him didn't care. like yes, he was slow dancing with his partner so what? but that wasn't the majority, in the end he was dying on the inside. he still loved you to death though, that's never gonna change.

jeongin ✉

you two were in your own scene all the time. it's like you were in a world where no one could enter, he just loved you so much and he got lost in whatever you were saying or doing all the time. he had heart eyes when you were near every time and you couldn't say that you didn't feel the same way. he was so ready to live every day for the rest of his life with you, it sounds like you were married at this point and it was so sweet. you were supporting him as he recovered his vocals, his voice capturing you and when he came out, he laid down next to you.

"was i good?" he simply asked as he looked at you, soft eyes and a little smile appearing on his face. it made you smile as well how happy he looked and you nodded.

"you're always amazing darling." you responded as you hugged him and gave him a little kiss on his forehead. holding him like you were so protective of your innie, he was always gonna be your baby.

"the lovebirds are acting up again." hyunjin said as he walked in to record his lines and jeongin buried himself in your chest. "it's cute, no need to hide!"

you held him close and pushed hyunjin who kept teasing jeongin. when hyunjin got in the recording booth, jeongin's red face appeared on your sight and you closed the gap to give him a kiss. his hyungs might tease him forever for the things you two do but he could not care anymore if he got to kiss you like that again.

#sourbinnie #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz reactions #skz #skz x reader #skz x gn reader #skz drabbles #stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x reader #skz fluff #stray kids fluff #felix x reader #jisung x reader #jeongin x reader #seungmin x reader

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zhongrin · 10 months

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◇ characters ◇ zhongli, al haitham, capitano, childe

◇ tags ◇ minors dni, afab!reader, chubby!reader, self aware android au, overstimulation (zhongli al haitham), period sex (al haitham), oral (giving / al haitham), inhuman features (capitano), did (childe | tartaglia), sadistic tendencies (tartaglia)

◇ a/n ◇ i have no words ya girl filthy and i blame it to the zhongli sisterwives coalition for enabling me (if yall see this, ily <3). also - obligatory tag to crys @crystalflygeo bc i feel like she'll set off a feral al haitham at me if i don't tag her /aff /silly. lastly no i definitely don't play favorites wdym

𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 ⬙ 𝑡𝑎𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡

handsome, elegant, gentle, and overall the perfect partner. from the random geology facts to his massages and specially blended teas, zhongli is the ideal android companion you could ever splurge on. he’s an expensive model and will break your bank, plus, his various dlcs and extensions - ranging from his alter personality “morax” which is brasher and rougher on the edges to the several… ‘attachments’ you could purchase to enhance his ‘performance’ - could probably get you into debt if you’re not careful.

but really, it barely matters when he manages to fuck you just fine with his standard out-of-the-box attachment. he’s as rough as you want him to be, yet at the same time he kisses you like you’re the most precious gem he’s ever unearthed and he’s not pounding you against your bedroom door. your knees buckle and your voice cracks around the edges as you scream his name for the hundredth time that night, the way he’s bullying into your sweetest spot making you gush yet again.

he’s perpetually hard as he helps you come down from your high, and the circle in his amber eyes spins as he loads the data from your smartwatch in a matter of milliseconds.

“2092 calories... hmm. i suppose you’ve met your goal for today….”

zhongli bends down to press a tender kiss to your sweaty forehead. and for a moment you sink into post-climax bliss, feeling warm and satiated and a lot less stressed than when you first started-

he smirks when your whole body jolts as his finger starts to slowly rub your swollen bud, hips gently moving to set a slow pace to not overstimulate you too much. although he had to say he was tempted to do so, with the indecent sound you’re making from both your upper and lower set of lips.

”… but what say you we go for more? after all… you’re most sensitive when you’re on the peak of your fertile days - such as today, yes?”

your android is very very strange, you decide. but then again his personality is described as “a tad insufferable” on the label so you guessed teyvat⟡robotics is at least being honest. for one, al haitham is very punctual with his ‘working hours’ - in fact, it was the very first thing he asked when you turned him on. anything after his ‘office hours’, and he gives you the insufferable roommate treatment. he also prefers to read physical books instead of using his supercomputer brain to look up information. he’s also very seemingly apathetic about a lot of things, and sometimes it drives you crazy… just like now.

“you said you wanted the cramps to hurt less. now stay still.”

he seems to not give any fuck about all the period blood smeared over his synthetic skin as he brings you over the edge for the third time tonight.

granted he could just turn off his smell and taste sensor, but you were pretty sure the vivid lust in his verdant green optics with a diamond of terracotta of his activity bar must be a glitch in his code. with muscled arms hugging your plump thighs, he buried himself further into your cunt, humming when he felt you clench around his tongue amidst his ministrations. they vibrate and fucks your sweetest spot with such precision and speed - and with each climax, it gets harder and harder to think.

go ahead, tug on his hair all you want - he’s just doing what you’ve instructed him to do. and what is he if not exemplary at his job? hell - perhaps if it’s for this, he wouldn’t mind working overtime.

“when i’m done with you, you won’t be able to feel any pain, let alone think.”

previously a unit made for war, the capitano model is intimidating - and that’s an understatement. he’s tall, bulky, rigged with many alien-like features, and would probably get stuck on your house’s doorways, but what most people don’t know since they don’t bother reading his manual is that he’s utterly soft and gentle to his owner. in this case, namely, you.

and you’re glad that he is because the sinful way his thick fingers are stirring your sloppy pussy and fucking your mouth was already making you see stars. long thick tongue slithered out from his ‘mouth’ behind the crevasse of his helmet, wrapping around your breast and flicking your hardened nipple, a guttural purr that sounded both mechanical and otherworldly seemingly making the air vibrate.

he hums when you beg for his girthy manhood, and his fingers scissor your walls as he gauges your reactions. capitano grunts and chuckles, gentle yet with a dark undertone behind it as he taps onto your clit and fucks you deeper with his fingers.

“not yet. you’re not ready, my little human. maybe after you give me two more orgasms.”

the general consensus is that ajax is the cutest companion one could ever get from the market, and you used to agree with that sentiment. he’s sweet and cheerful, cooks you the best homemade meals, and knows when to hold you when you feel too stressed.

if only your curious soul didn’t hack into his program that one night out of curiosity. if only you hadn’t found the commented-out section amongst the lines of codes in his program. if only-

tartaglia is meaner - a lot meaner, in fact. ajax holds your hand like you’re a bubble rising on top of the water's surface which can pop any moment, but tartaglia pins them onto your mattress in a tight grip to prevent you from escaping. ajax's focus is to please you and make you feel like royalty who's in for a good time - tartaglia’s focus is on how loud you can scream in pleasure for him, how many times you can come undone by his hands compared to ajax, and he thrives by hearing his name falling from your lips as your eyes cross and your cunt spasms around his length.

too sensitive? too much? you can’t?

“but babe…. doesn’t it feel even better when there’s a little bit of pain mixed with the pleasure?”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #minors dni #zhongli #zhongli x reader #al haitham x reader #al haitham #childe #tartaglia #ajax #childe x reader #capitano #capitano x reader #rin writes

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tarosunshine · 3 months

Text

ʚ HIS SMILE

genre fluff 𖹭 warning none ﹗ pairing boyfriend OT7 x fem reader

— You can't resist his smile.

─── SHOTARO 𓂂 ׄ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

You were watching the TV, but you weren't paying attention. Next to you, Shotaro was looking at his phone. His laugh caught your attention, and you looked at him out of the corner of your eye, curiously. He turned to you as he showed the screen of his cellphone. “Look at the video Sohee sent me.”

You looked at his phone absentmindedly, as there was something else that caught your attention. You bit the inside of your cheek as you flicked from the screen to Shotaro's smiling face, admiring every detail. You just wanted to squeez his cheeks. And you couldn't stand it, so you looked away somewhere else. He looked at you confused. “What's wrong?.” He put his phone aside and leaned in to see your face. “Why are you red?” You giggled as he tried to apart your hands away from your own face. “Let me see you.”

─── EUNSEOK 𓂂 ׄ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

The first time you saw him smile, it was as if a wave of tenderness invaded you, since at first glance he had seemed somewhat intimidating.

After you were together for a while, you could see that dimple he had. How had you not noticed it before? The combination of those big eyes turning into crescents, plus his smile, melted your heart.

Eunseok was talking to his friends, and you were looking at him a few meters away from him. You just casually see him as you were looking around, and the fact that his group was so scandalous made you find him.

Every time he smiled your heart beat fast. He wasn't even aware of what his smile caused on you. Having a boyfriend with such a cute quality was not something easy to handle.

─── SUNGCHAN 𓂂 ׄ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

What you liked most about Sungchan's smile were those fangs sticking out. How his eyes softened as he did so, or how his energy completely changed every time he smiled at you.

This big boy, perhaps intimidating to others because of his size, was the cutest person, and more when he smiled. “Why are you looking at me so much?” He asked as he smirked and approached you. You denied having been looking, moving your gaze somewhere else in the house. He knew what was doing to you. “What's wrong? Hm?” Sungchan loved seeing your red face.

─── WONBIN 𓂂 ׄ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

Sometimes, you just want to hide Wonbin in a box so no one can see him smile, not in a bad way. But what this man did to your poor heart every time he smiled was inexplicable. I mean, he has one of the prettiest smiles you have ever seen. It's known that Wonbin is handsome, but when he smiles, he is even more, so much so that you can't look at his face sometimes.

“I can see your face turning red.” He teased, tilting his head a little, trying to see your face. He grave your cheeks with both hands and smiles at you, squishing them playfully.

─── SEUNGHAN 𓂂 ׄ ㅤㅤ ㅤ

You two were waking at the park, and your boyfriend had bent down to talk to a little kid who came to greet him, who before leaving gave him a fist bump, causing a smile on him. When he got back up, he looked at you and took your hand again.

He kissed your cheek and teased you as he talked about your face in a completely different tone. Smiling at you and teasing you. “Look at your face.” You laughed as he looked in your direction and continued talking. “You're so pretty when you're like this.” He kissed your face again.

─── SOHEE 𓂂 ׄ

How was it possible that this boy could look so cute smiling? Adding to that, the moles that he had spread across his face, which you liked so much. “Hey, I’m not supposed to look cute to you.” He complained as he tried to stop smiling, but he see the reaction he caused in you. “I'm not going to smile anymore.” He grimaced as he tried not to show his teeth, but upon seeing you, he could only laugh and lunge at you in a hug.

─── ANTON 𓂂 ׄ

With Anton, shy smiles were more common, and they were the ones that gave the most tenderness, but he was not aware of it, and that was as you liked the most and caused a bit of fun; the difference between his body and his face.

While he was talking about one of his practices with the cello, he gave off that mini smile that would drive you crazy because of how cute he looked. At the same time, his voice was so calm at every word. “Why is your face so red?” He asked with confusion as he leaned closer to your face. “You feel bad?” He would put his hand on your forehead as he laughed at you.

#lim ⋆#˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆#riize #riize shotaro #riize eunseok #riize sungchan #riize wonbin #riize seunghan #riize sohee #riize anton #riize x reader #riize fluff #riize x you #riize imagines #riize scenarios #riize x imagine #riize scenario

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forever-rogue · 9 months

Note

Imagine you and Eddie aren’t like official but just fuck around allot and you’ve stolen one of his shirts. One night you fuck around with some other guy before going to a corroded coffin gig and when you go up to hug Eddie he can smell the different guy on his shirt and he gets so jealous 😮‍💨 I live for jealous Eddie

AN | Stopppp, jealous Eddie?? Jealous rockstar Eddie?? Yes please! Enjoy 🥰

Warnings | Language, Mentions of Sex

Pairing | Rockstar!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.8k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Eddie!" You were breathless from giggles as he tickled your sides, keeping you pinned beneath him, "stop! Have mercy!"

"Hmmm," he stopped momentarily, hands settling on your hips as he brushed his thumbs along your soft skin, "why should I?"

"I'll do whatever you want," you promised, smile saccharine and eyes still heavy and soft from the orgasm you were coming down from, "promise."

"I can't say no to that, pretty girl," he brought his hand to your face, tenderly brushing his knuckles along your cheek. Your face turned warm as you looked away, unused to the extraordinarily tender gesture. Usually whenever you fucked it was just…fun. But this was something more, "promise me we'll do this again."

"You already know I can't say no to that," you grinned, reaching up and putting your hand on his chest to push him off you. There was something about the moment that was getting to be too much, too intimate between the two of you, "now get off you sap."

"Baby," he groaned as he watched you slip out of his bed still naked, bathed only in the moonlight that was streaming in through the window.

"Baby," you chirped back at him, reaching into dresser drawers and pulling out one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxers. You slipped them, almost oblivious to the fact that Eddie's eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets, "I gotta go, but I'll see you later?"

"Stay," he patted the empty side of the bed next to him. The one that should belong to you, if you weren't so reluctant to stay…ever. You bit the inside of your cheek, wondering if it was best to go or if one night of post-sex cuddling was going to break you, "what's the harm, huh?"

"Edward," he huffed at the use of his full name but his heart skipped a few beats as you came back over and slipped under the covers next to him, "you better stop or I might start to think you're catching feelings."

"And what if I was?" He angled his body towards yours, draping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his frame, "would that be so bad?"

"Eddie…we've talked about this," but you still laced your fingers through his and squeezed them, "you're not here half the time and it's just…what's wrong with what we have? We're friends and we have fun. Let's keep it at that."

“Y-yeah,” he swallowed down every other thing he wanted to say and just nodded before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You shifted around so you were turned towards him, his handsome face almost hidden completely. You leaned in and kissed him, trying to quell any of the odd sensations both of you might have been feeling, “we’ll do that.”

“Can I keep your clothes?” you laid your head onto his pillow, inhaling deeply in order to memorize his scent, “that way I’ll remember you while you’re gone.”

“Fuck yeah,” there was definitely something stirring in his belly at the thought of you wearing his clothes. It was absolutely a primal and savage sort of possessive feeling, but it ran deep. At least when it came to you, "'sides you look way better than me in them."

"Whatever, handsome," you scoffed lightly, "you'll call while you're gone right?"

"So long as you come to the last show of the tour," he practically preened into your touch as you brushed his roguish curls out of his face.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," and it was true. You knew you'd miss him for three months he was gone, but when he was back it would be magic. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, or whatever, right?

"Good," he kissed you once more, softly and differently from how he normally did. It wasn't that he was never gentle with you, he often was, but it was clear that something was different tonight, "now get some rest, princess."

"G'night Eddie," you closed your eyes as you snuggled further into him, warm and comfortable and feeling more confused than ever, "sleep tight and don't let the bed bugs bite."

If this was supposed for be just sex, why did this feel like anything but?

Ugh.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It felt like it had been forever since the last night you’d spent with Eddie. Since the last night you’d had sex and cuddled for hours afterwards. You were missing him like crazy, despite how often he managed to call you; you almost thought that he was actually making it a point to call you (he was). Often you found yourself laying around and waiting for his calls…they were the highlight of your day.

“You could always just tell him that you want to be more than just friends,” Steve pulled you out of your thoughts as you clutched at your now rapidly beating heart. Steve flicked his rag at you as you scoffed and tried to think about how to even respond to that, “instead of just lusting after him.”

“I don’t…” you trailed off and start aggressively cleaning the espresso machine, thankful that it was a slow evening in the cafe, “we’re just friends!”

“Friends that like to have sex with each other-”

“Exactly!”

“And happen to have feelings for each other.”

“Wait, what - no,” you couldn’t face him. You knew his big, curious eyes would be able to see right through your lie. It was a quality you both loved and hated about him, “it’s not like that.”

“Mhmm," he didn't believe you for a second, "whatever you say."

"I'm not lying, Steven," your insistence was cute and made him smile even harder. He loved seeing his best friends in love - it was even better when two of his best friends were in love with each other. He was going to make this worth it.

"Then why haven't you been dating since he's been gone for so long?" He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, "I thought you liked going on dates."

"I do, ugh! I just haven't met anyone worthwhile recently," you were almost positive that was true. Steve wasn't buying it, tutting at you, "the dating scene has just been…dry lately."

"Mhmm…"

"Don't do that!" You threw your rag onto the counter and held up your hands in exasperation, "I hate when you do your little mhmm thing like you just know everything going on in my mind! There's nothing to this. Nothing. Eddie is my friend, we have sex, and that's it! It doesn't have to be more than that. Can we please just drop this?”

“Yes - yeah, sorry,” some of his cheer died down as he nodded. He hadn’t meant to upset you but he had been so sure that you really had feelings for Eddie and vice versa. He just wanted you to be the happiest possible, “consider it dropped.”

“Thank you,” you offered him a small little half smile that was more disconcerting rather than encouraging, “now - do you and Robin want to go out for drinks this weekend?”

And just like that the idea of Eddie left your mind again. It was easier to ignore the nagging feeling that was growing at the thought of him as long as it was pushed far from your mind. He was still going to be gone for almost another month. By the time he got back, you could surely have put him out of your mind…and feelings. Most importantly you needed him to worm his way out of the part of your heart that he occupied almost entirely.

Ugh This was only getting harder.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next couple of weeks passed in a blur and it was definitely by choice. You started going on dates every weekend and even some week nights. They were guys you’d met either out and about, a couple were through friends, and the rest were chance encounters when you’d go out for the night. Most of them were so unmemorable that you couldn’t even recall their names.

The worst part of all was that you didn’t even care about knowing their names or anything about them. At the end of every date or as soon as the sex was done your mind kept wandering back to him. To Eddie.

Steve and Robin, among others, were definitely growing more and more concerned with every passing day. You weren’t acting yourself and if anyone even mentioned it, you’d just ignore it or just play it off. You were fine, nothing was wrong and you weren’t doing anything wrong. If anything it was a weird coping mechanism. Besides all of that, you were sure that Eddie was likely doing the same thing. He was a rock star after all, partying and hooking up with groupies was commonplace.

The night before Corroded Coffin’s hometown show you’d hooked up with a guy named Matteo (you were sure that was probably some hipster name he’d chosen for himself) that you had met at a bar. He wasn’t anything special, good looking and well dressed in a very typical way, but nothing to write home about. In a few days you’d have all but forgotten about him. His best quality was probably that he was good in bed, giving without expecting anything in return which, with most men, was a rarity.

And yet, you still couldn’t help but compare it to Eddie. Eddie was the best you’d ever had and he was well aware of that fact. He always left you wanting more, and there was a small, wicked part of you that couldn’t help but imagine you were in bed with him when it was someone else. You might have even called one of them by his name…yeah. That one hadn’t ended well.

But this one night stand had turned into a whole day stand, where the two of you barely left your bed, opting inside to stay inside and have sex. The fact that this was the night Eddie was back from tour and playing the last show ...absolutely had everything to do with it.

Before you left for the show you’d thrown on a pair of cutoff shorts and the t-shirt you’d stolen from Eddie the last time you’d hooked up. Prior to making it out the door, Matteo had convinced into have another quickie and you decided that there wasn’t anything wrong with it. As soon as you were done, however, you kicked him out so you could finish your hair and makeup before going to the show. He’d practically begged for another date, or for you to at least call him, as he left and the best you gave him was a little half hearted sure.

You weren’t going to call him again. You were both well aware of that little fact.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You attended the sold-out show with Robin and Steve, the three All those of you in the VIP section in the front. There was something about Eddie’s stage presence that practically made you swoon; he owned the stage, just like he was meant to be there. You were positive that a few times he caught your eye, somehow managing to pick you out of the crowd, and that made butterflies explode in your tummy.

All those months of working to get over him were undone in a two hour set, and you felt like a lovesick puppy all over again. Well, fuck. Back to square one again.

Your eyes were practically glued to Eddie as you watched the band play; you felt mildly bad for not appreciating the hard work the rest of the boys were putting in but yeah. You were a pathetic sucker that happened to be in love with her best friend. You could admit that much by now…you'd never admit that to anyone else but to yourself it didn't taste so bitter. Instead it was saccharine and sweet.

After the show, the three of you made your way backstage, and your heart began to pound harder with each step. Each step brought you closer to him. You willed yourself to act natural.

But when you got backstage, Eddie was already standing there and waiting, or at least you presumed so, for you. Every ounce of self control that remained in your body suddenly left at the giant grin that Eddie offered you. Robin and Steve exchanged a look and a nod before slyly making their exist; it was all in your hands now.

"Hey there, pretty girl," you could feel Steve and Robin's eyes bouncing between the two of you. And then you decided - fuck it. He cocked his head to the side, and eyebrow raised in amusement, "what? No hello?"

You ran over to him, almost knocking him over into the process but Eddie managed to catch you. You wrapped your arms tightly around him and he reacted in kid, his hand soothing up and down your back.

"I've missed you so much," it was easier to confess than you'd thought as you pulled back from him. You were beaming up at him, but he didn't appear to be returning the sentiment. You grow worried as a scowl tugged down the corners of his mouth, "w-what's wrong?"

He tugged on the collar of your shirt, and shook his head, "have you been fucking someone?"

The growl in his voice sent a delicious shiver down your alone. You opened and closed your mouth a few times before cringing slightly, "umm, listen, I - it's kind of complicated."

"Who was it?" He repeated, his ringed hand going to your jaw and forcing you to look directly at him, "tell me."

"Well, this one's name was Matteo…" your answer was not enough to satiate him at all.

"This one?" He echoed as you shrugged sheepishly, "how many were there?"

"Like…eight-ish," you dropped your voice so he almost couldn't hear but - he heard you loud and clear.

"Ish?"

"Nine," you threw your hands in his exasperation as Eddie took a step back, laughing in anything but amusement.

"You fucked other guys while I was gone," he wasn't even asking, rather telling you, "why?"

"I, umm, thought it would be fun? Needed something to do," you could feel his eyes boring into you, "and you were gone."

"Silly, foolish little thing," he trailed his fingers along your jaw before shaking his head, "you don't get it, do you?"

"G-get what?" He brushes his thumb along your lip, causing your eyes to widen in shock.

"You are mine," he stated firm as you inhaled sharply, "you belong to me. Not anyone else."

"But Eddie-"

"I can smell him all over you," he tugged on the black shirt again, "you have a lot of nerve fucking someone in my shirt, pretty girl."

"I didn't-"

"I think it's time to teach some lessons," your cheeks warmed up at his words and found yourself unable to say anything else, "and remind you that you're mine."

"'m yours," and there it was. Out in the open and just so easy. It felt so right to say. Eddie smiled wolfishly as he nodded.

"It's about time you got there," his voice dropped to something softer as you just nodded, "baby, I've been wanting this, you and only you, for so long now."

"I-I think I've known," you swallowed the lump in your throat, "but I just…I just couldn't face it."

"Why not?" He took your face in his hands and gently looked you over, "hmm?"

"I was scared," you confessed, "I am. I don't want to fuck this up and I don't want you to hurt me."

"I'm scared too," he whispered, "but I'm never going to hurt you, baby. Promise you won't hurt me?"

"Never," you laughed softly, a gentle smile on your face. The last thing you'd ever do was hurt the man you'd been in love with for longer than you'd care to admit. He was everything, "I could never hurt you, Eddie."

"I know," he pressed a kiss to your forehead, "but now - you're coming with me. And I'm reminding you just how much I love you and that you belong to me. Yeah?"

"Y-yeah," you agreed eagerly, "but wait - Eddie…"

"Hmm?"

"I've missed you so much," your voice was small as you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek, "I'm glad you're home."

"Me too," he pressed a kiss to your cheek in return, "so glad, pretty girl."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #joseph quinn #st #rockstar!eddie

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calmcoldevening · 10 months

Text

Slashers and their babies (including partner's pregnancy)

TW: no?

Characters: Jedidiah Sawyer, Bo Sinclair, Thomas Hewitt

Ps: English is not my native language, so sorry for misspels ♡

Jedidiah Sawyer

• Jed spent all his free time with you; he always felt very comfortable in your company. Therefore, when your condition deteriorated sharply, he became worried. Frequent migraines; morning vomiting; refusal of some food that you, as a guy knew, loved very much; swelling and bad mood. Sawyer was seriously scared and immediately let his mother know about it; Verna always understood her son without words.

• When the woman talked to you, she mentally made some conclusions, but she didn't say anything to you, much less to Jed. The only thing she gave you some instructions to ease your condition: less housework, loose clothes, rest and the absence of human meat in the diet.

• After a while, when your belly became a little more noticeable, Verna talked to you about this topic, but asked not to bring Jedidiah up to date; Sawyer mom didn't know how the boy would react to this news.

• When the deadline was slowly approaching, she personally sent you to the hospital. Thanks to the connections of her new man, she was able to provide you with a place in good conditions.

• Jed was very restless. Why did you leave? Are you tired of him? Was he rude or did he hurt you? Please come back, he will definitely try harder, he will be a good boy!

• After a relatively easy delivery, you were in the hospital for a week. Back at the Sawyer house, you were greeted by a terrified Jed. He came out of the basement, painfully looking at you with his eyes-coals and twisting his fingers. His whole body showed uncertainty and fear, he was afraid to let you down, that you would leave again. But inwardly, Jed was so glad you were back. You're not leaving him anymore, are you?

• "Jed. This is our baby," you babble, gently looking at the child.

• Only now does the guy notice the bundle in your hands. Baby? Your baby? Your common child. . ?

• You hold out the baby to Jed, and Verna helps gently lay the baby in his arms. Jed can't believe his eyes. In his arms now lies a little snuffling miracle, his child, no, your child, the fruit of your and Jed's love. And is it really true? Jedidiah begins to gently sway from side to side, as his mother once soothed him during nightmares. He looks at the wrinkled little man with eyes full of love and all kinds of tenderness.

• "You're gonna be a great dad, Jed," you say, kissing the guy on the cheek.

• Only now does he understand your past state. You didn't leave him, you just went to the hospital! All the time he couldn't do anything, you were carrying your child, fighting for his life.

• Jed looks up at you and you see his copper eyes filled with confidence and readiness for this responsibility. He won't let you down. You will be wonderful parents. Together.

Bo Sinclair

• Bo notices that you've been getting more and more nervous and short-tempered lately. Usually after dinner you sit on the sofa with him and coo softly, laying your head on his chest; now you immediately go to your shared bedroom and fall asleep or spend the rest of the evening there, at least when Bo comes into the room, you will already be asleep, curled up in a duvet.

• Usually Bo does not take into account someone else's mood and puts himself first; because of this, you have frequent conflicts, which, in most cases, end with your hysteria. With this outcome, the man hugs you and presses you to his body, stroking your back and apologizing countless times. Still, it's hard for him to get used to the fact that someone else in this house has a fickle character.

• After a couple of weeks, he begins to notice the plumpness of your lower abdomen. He thinks it's cute. Therefore, with your subsequent proximity, he certainly bites your soft flesh.

• In the third month, he already begins to think about your condition. You spend most of the day in your room and only occasionally go out to your brothers, usually to cook a meal and also quickly go upstairs with a full plate. It's not like you! Without your presence, the Sinclair meal turned into a simple quick swallowing of food; no one else enjoyed the meal; there were no jokes, stories, advice and other nonsense that had annoyed Bo up to that point. Now he just wanted everything to go back to the way it was before.

• You ask Bo to go to the city with you, to which he actively agrees, and you buy a pregnancy test at the pharmacy. Even though you already knew the answer, you wanted to show it to Sinclair. Two stripes. "That's what it turns out. . . Am I going to be a father?"

• The man is proud, very proud and incredibly happy! With the available money, Bo starts buying neutral furniture for the child and various things for you (up to some snotty magazines with cute actors' faces).

• Bo gave you full access to his closet: after all, you've always loved his clothes, especially big T-shirts, which can now make it easier for you to dress with a slowly growing stomach.

• Bo fulfills your every whim. No matter how stupid he is, a man understands that carrying a child is a huge job that requires a lot of effort, so now you are deprived of almost all the responsibilities (he threw off cooking to Lester, and Vincent considered a man who, with his love for beauty, will be able to clean this house wonderfully).

• He doesn't stop teasing Vincent: "Ha, freak! Have you seen that? Have you seen that?! I'm going to be a father, damn it! And you continue to sit and rot among your empty paintings!". After that, you scold Bo and calm Vincent down. "Vinny, this will be your nephew. I'm sure you'll make a good uncle." This significantly affects Bo's self-esteem.

• When Bo finally picks you and the baby up from the hospital, he doesn't let the baby out of his arms for a good five hours. He gives up immediately after he hears the shrill howl of the baby.

• With all his dislike of strong noise, he becomes a good father. At least he knows how to feed a baby, although otherwise he should learn.

• As soon as the child takes the first steps, Bo begins to tell him about the city, in particular about the museum. The kid just looks at his father as if he's crazy.

Thomas Hewitt

• During your pregnancy, Tommy's favorite way to show his support: he picks up your body and puts it on his lap, pressing his back to his chest; his head is buried in the curve of your shoulder and neck; his hands cover your palms on your voluminous stomach.

• Both before and after pregnancy and childbirth, Tommy carries you in his arms. He tries not to leave you alone for more than half an hour.

• You have to give birth right in this house, the nearest city is very far away, and the old man Hoyt does not want to shine. Fortunately, it all ends well.

• Thomas looks at the little man in your arms for a couple of minutes. Flushed, wrinkled skin; clenched fists; kicking feet; squeezed eyes and a piercing scream. This child is literally from one and a half of his palm!

• Hewitt quickly gets used to the smallness of this creature and cradles the child in his arms with uncharacteristic tenderness and caution — Tommy treats the baby like a crystal vase, which, with a little pressure, will burst, crumbling into thousands of small fragments. Although with his superhuman strength, it probably would have been.

• Tommy watches you breastfeed with fascination; it makes you blush a little. A man with unprecedented zeal and interest looks after all your manipulations in relation to the baby. In the end, after a while, he also begins to perform these actions well.

• "Tommy, I need to go out for a while. Luda-May needs help. Can you babysit with [baby's name]?". He nods. When you come back, you see Thomas snuffling on the bed. He put one hand under his head, the other covered your child, who, apparently, followed the example of his daddy and now also drooled on the pillow. Such a cute scene.

• Who would have thought that a Texas maniac with a chainsaw is capable of such tenderness?

• When a child turns two, you stop putting him in the crib at night, and put him between you and Tommy. Hewitt clasps your hands together and covers the baby with them, creating an improvised barrier.

• Thomas turns out to be a very attentive and caring father. He treats the baby carefully and tries in every way to please him/her. Besides, when the three of you are alone in the room, he takes off his mask! The kid feels his father's face curiously.

• The man is still worried that his illness may manifest itself in the child.

• Unexpectedly, but your child and Thomas' favorite game is hide—and-seek. It looks especially strange when a man two meters tall and wide enough in girth is trying to hide.

• Yes, when your baby turned four, Thomas taught him to human flesh.

• The best toy? Daddy's chainsaw!

Okay, it was something a little strange, but I hope you enjoyed it <3

#slashers x reader #jedidiah sawyer #jedidiah sawyer x reader #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader

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yourlovermumu · 11 months

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yandere!husband who loves you so much that all he has ever wanted is to make you his wife and have you by his side forever.

he just really loves you. and the fact that he gets to come home to his pretty little wife greeting him with a ‘’welcome home honey!’’ makes his heart beat against his ribcage so loud that his almost sure you heard it too.

at first it was a little hard for him to get used to all this. you greeting him with a hug and a warm smile when he comes home, cooking him delicious food, feeding him with your own hands from time to time, cuddling him, and the fact that he gets to see your face first thing in a morning when he wakes up.

yandere!husband can hardly keep up with everything without blushing like crazy from the littlest things. poor man just loves his girl so much.

so it shouldnt come as a surprise when he just cant take things anymore sometimes and ends up fucking you like a dog in heat near the closest surface he can find.

its still hard for him to process sometimes that your his, he gets to have you, you agreed to be his forever. and his so grateful for it.

and he just loves to come home to you in the kitchen with an apron on, cooking him delicious food.

theres just something about you in an apron..that drives him insane.

just coming home to his pretty little wife in an apron..wow

he would come behind you and hug you securely from behind while your stirring the food. burying his face in the crook of your neck, sniffing it a little to inhale your scent. ‘’mhm...you smell so good sweetie..’’ he whispers as he places soft, gentle kisses on your neck that tickle you.

you giggle at his kisses as you tell him to stop but he just smiles and pouts with a ‘’no baby, let me give you my love’’ he says as he continues trialing kisses from your neck to your shoulder. slipping your shirt down on one shoulder where his trailing down kisses. he eventually starts biting you softly.

‘‘love, whats gotten into you- mh- ah..your..uhm..please wait till the the food is done baby.’‘

he doesnt say anything, just keeps kissing, biting and licking your tender skin.

you reach your hand behind to grab his hair to somehow pull him away. and it does seem to work as he lifts his head up and comes to whisper in your ear, ‘’sweetie, dont be so cruel to your husband, dont deny my love and affection. it hurts me’’ he says with a fake pout.

you sigh at his behavior, ‘’mhm, sorry love, i just need to get this done, you dont wanna eat burnt food now do you?’’ as much as you wanna give in you cant possibly do so when your cooking, you would hate to feed your dear husband brunt food after all.

his hands stay wrapped on your waist as he hums, as if his considering it. but then a smirk quickly makes its way to his lips. as he licks your earlobe and then whispers, ‘’then..why dont you just turn the stove off and give me a little of your time darling? just for a bit, i promise. wont keep you for long baby.’’ he says as he places gentle feather kisses on your neck again. trying to slowly convince you.

you gulp, trying to fight the little voice in you head that tells you to just give him what he wants. ‘’can’t you wait a bit longer baby?’’

‘‘can’t, can’t wait anymore baby.’‘ he responds

‘‘been thinking about you all day.’‘ he says as he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck.

‘‘do you know what seeing you in this cute little apron is doing to me baby? do you know what its making me want to do?’‘ he asks as he flips you around, lifting you up into the kitchen counter. as he leans in close to your face. both his hands on either sides of your thighs ‘’hm?’’

you shake your head at his question. he chuckles when you do so. ‘’guess baby, guess’’ he says with a smile, waiting for you continue.

‘‘its..making you really needy..isnt it, love?’‘ you ask, giggling.

‘‘thats right baby, its making me so, so needy...its making me want to..take everything off besides the apron.. thats what its making me want to do.’‘ he says sternly.

he smiles when he sees you flustered by what he said, a small chuckle leaves his lips, ‘’and tell you what’’ he pauses to look right into your eyes before speaking again, ‘’i dont think you’d stop me’’

‘‘aahh-! ah-! wait-! mh-mhmm..’‘ you moan as your left hand tightens on his hair. pulling and tugging it. but his not moving an inch. his too lost in pleasure to just stop and give you a moment to breathe. this whole moment, situation, is so amazing to him he cant possibly just stop. especially right when your about to cum again.

‘‘make a mess of my face baby...dont hold back.’‘ he says as he moans into your pussy. sending vibrations through your cunt and making you shiver.

‘‘gonna cum...’am gonna cum-!’‘ you warn as tears spill down your cheeks.

yandare!husband only hums with his face stuffed between your thighs as he sucks and licks your pussy messily with two fingers stuffed into you. his cock twitching and leaking in his boxers from your screams, moans, and whines. everything about you is just so beautiful to him.

it doesnt take long before your squirting on his face without a second warning. he tries to take every second drop inside his mouth desperately, like his a starving man. he licks you clean as he holds both your thighs apart.

‘‘so sexy...i didnt know you could squirt like that..’‘ he chuckles as he looks up at your face. such a fucking mess you’ve become. your huffing and panting with sweat drenching your face.

#yandare #yandare smut #smut #jujutsu kaisen #gojo smut #gojo #nanami #nanami smut #toji #toji smut #sukuna #sukuna smut #OBEY ME #obey me smut #one piece smut #diavolo smut #mammon smut #satan smut

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mikuni14 · 4 months

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I loved the ENTIRE love scene, but there were a few moments that stood out to me.

Starting at the beginning of the scene - when Phaya just takes deep breaths and stares with that smirk of his that always appeared on his face in all the sexually charged scenes with Tharn. Because Tharn is putting on a show for him.

This scene is absolutely amazing and it blew me away. Because this is his first time, Tharn is standing naked in front of someone and not only is he not ashamed, he is not timid, he exposes himself even more, he wants to be even sexier for Phaya. There is something incredibly beautiful about the fact that Tharn trusts Phaya so much that he is willing to expose himself completely, to be vulnerable in his sexual debut, and that seeing Phaya mesmerized by him gives him the confidence to put on even a little performance 😍 Which of course works, just look at how Phaya practically "land" on him like a bird after this little show, spreading his arms even wider, because yes, he likes it A LOT ✨

I also love the moment when they are naked and hug each other tightly. The actors' hugs show how comfortable they are with each other (I always pay attention to this) and are a great proof of whether the characters fit together physically like puzzle pieces. Phaya and Tharn already proved it by sleeping together once, so I'm not surprised that it turned out great again ✨

I really like this moment because of its masculine element. Maybe it's just me, but this scene is very hot with how masculine they both are here.

Of course, this moment. Phaya is so intense here, I love how his hands cup Tharn's head, how dominant he is, how he is leading. And how passionately he kisses Tharn. And we all already agreed that he can taste himself in his mouth which is 🔥🔥

Here - a scene both hot thanks to Phaya's thumb and tender thanks to Tharn's thumb 👌

But THIS is probably my favorite moment: they are both perfect in it and the perfectly in character that suits their personalities and their fantasies. They are both exactly who they want to be sexually and where they want to be. It's super hot, Phaya, who takes a moment To Look and only then "land" on Tharn again like a bird of prey, grabbing his hair, kissing him forcefully and passionately, Tharn clearly loving being under this "assault" 🔥🔥

And of course the bed scene: the wordless communication taking place between Phaya and Tharn, Phaya all the time being super attentive to Tharn's needs, to Tharn's non-verbal signals, to his consent to whatever Phaya is doing to him. Tharn enjoying every moment of Phaya's complete attention. We can guess what they are doing, because the scene is not literal and vulgar, but elegant, beautiful, classy and even magical, and therefore 🔥🔥

Their entire love scene is Tharn showing complete trust in Phaya, opening up to him, showing his vulnerable side, taking everything Phaya gives him and demanding more. It's also Phaya, enchanted by everything that Tharn gives him, naturally taking control but never abusing the trust given to him. Phaya is clearly the type of lover who is most turned on by his lover having a good time 😊 While Tharn has no problem having that good time and being treated like a spoiled king in bed 😄 Really, this couple is so incredibly harmonious and compatible. What a wonderful dynamic, thanks to them WE also have a good time 😍

#the sign the series #thai bl #bl drama

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anantaru · 22 days

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⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ i like the way you kiss me, i can tell you miss me

synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ your ex boyfriend childe recently found out that you've been seeing another guy lately. // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡

cw. jealous! childe, rough & needy, exes missing each other but not admitting it, hinted at a previous toxic relationship between you two, fem! reader ♡

"did he touch you like this?" childe mumbles against your ear as his hand slowly slid over your curves, touching your body.

the impact this brazen question had on you made your body shudder in embarrassment, not only that but you could feel your own blood being forced to frenziedly race through your shape with every new drag of his cock dashing ripples of glee into you.

he knows what he's doing, he's planned this.

the harbinger knows everything apparently, or perhaps he's actually made up an entire different story to what he thought happened on your date.

he cups your cheek and runs his thumb across your bottom lip reverently, "or was he rougher?" slower?" he taunts, and there's an instant jolt of pride up the harbinger's spine when he notices how you're embarrassingly averting his satisfied gaze.

he hasn't lost his grip on you yet, he's sure of it, and he welcomed that you're so easy to read, to the point where you'd choke on a cry consistently, more so when he rushed through that one spot he would never forget to stimulate.

"w-why does it matter?" your words come out quicker than your mind could've properly processed them as you whimper out wetly to him.

you quirk up a brow, feeling a tender hold of confidence aid your frame, "aah— it's not like we're dating anymore or anything,"

that breathy, almost belittling laugh that tumbled over your parted mouth reached his heart, fracturing his vitality.

"we're broken up, ajax, please," you shuffle your arms around his neck before abruptly pulling him towards you, so your lips could brush against his ear shell as you whisper seductively;

"i can fuck whoever i want,"

tilting his head, instead of falling for it, childe confidently cocks a brow before planting a wet kiss on your cheek, "huh? archons, what a mouth you got on yourself," as he spreads, burns and dominates your glistening walls until he's certain you're where he needed you to be— vulnerable to him, perhaps even admitting the truth and stopping your bratty mouth to spill anymore wrongs.

"come on, will you? come on," he laughs manically, his hips jerking hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs as your breasts bounce in tandem with his ruthless thrust, "don't pretend like he'll ever catch up to me, fuck— baby..." he grinds deeper, watching how a nasty ring of white covers the majority of his base.

you roll your eyes but know he's right— because no one could ever unlock the love you've had for ajax before you two had broken up. those rough hands of his were your everything, in comparison to how he used them against his enemies, towards you, he wielded them lightly.

you squeeze and squeeze him, practically telling him that yes, you've missed him so much but no, you're not willing to ever get in a relationship with him again. for that, you've put in too much work already to forget about ajax, the man you loved so unconditionally.

"doesn't matter," your voice echos like a soft whimper as you hug him, desperately wanting to feel how all his inches were painfully throbbing while squeezed by your walls, "we. don't. work." concurrently to his sultry rolls, you pant out a crushing reality.

childe didn't want to hear that, not now, not ever again.

he pushes inside and groans out hot against your ear, before forcing himself to move his hips slower, despite the expanded lust inside of him wanting to slam right into you, fuck— the harbinger was aggravated, frustrated and saddened at the same time. not because of you, yet due to the fact that primarily, it was his fault that things ended on how they did.

a candid confession should never find its way inside of a situation this unrepeatable, "i love you," he whines, his cock plunging with passion as if to emphasize his spelled out words.

your mouth opens instantly for a rebuttal as he swiftly runs a hand down your breasts, pinching your nipples, desperate to swallow up your mewls and keep them stored within him.

foreheads pressed against each other, no words said out loud.

childe regrets everything right now, because you are just his everything, his all.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin Impact smut #childe x reader #childe smut #childe x you #genshin x you #genshin impact x you

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bearhugsandshrugs · 6 months

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Ok imagine a sleep talking Tav tells their romance partner “I love you” in their sleep and their partner is just floored at the first time confession in their earnest, too-honest sleep haze and ofc Tav doesn’t remember in the morning

I had to write this for all of them, obviously, because this is so cute.

Thank you so much for this!

Astarion

He scoffs at the confession, taken aback in the moment, defenses rising sky high as he prepares for mockery. When he realizes Tav is half asleep, words tumbling out of their mouth unguardedly, he sits there in the dark, lower lip trembling as he stares at them. The next morning when they’re both awake, he softly tries to get a reaction out of Tav. He wants to, needs to hear them say it again. To make it real. So when the first opportunity presents itself, he jabs a “It’s because you love me, isn’t it” at them, and it’s absolutely not as smooth as it sounded in his head, but Tav stares at him, considering. Then it hits them, that they do, in fact, love Astarion. So when they reply “Yes. I love you”, simply and matter of fact, he can only grin, exhilarated by the repeated confession. “It does sound sweeter when you’re awake, my love.”

Gale

Love who? Gale is confused. They can’t possibly mean him, could they? But then Tav says it again, a soft “Gale” added to their confession, and the wizard’s face burns so hot that a drop of sweat rolls down his forehead. “I love you too” he whispers into the dark, gently placing a kiss on Tav’s lips before nestling his body against theirs. He doesn’t mention it, doesn’t say a thing, a sweet secret that he is happy to hold for the both of them, until Tav is ready.

Halsin

A small smile flashes across his face, but gets replaced by furrowed brows as Halsin softly strokes Tav’s hair. Love. A feeling, no, a concept, that is so deep, so complex, that he’s glad for his partner’s quiet breaths as they fall back into a deeper sleep. Does he love them? Deep in his heart, he knows. Has known for a long time, as their presence brightens all colors, heightens all senses, like a beam of sun breaking through a cloudy day. Still, the confession hits him unprepared, and he sighs as the meditation does not come easily that night, his heart stumbling over itself again and again as the memory of Tav confessing their love for him takes hold. The next day, he asks his lover on a walk, gently breaching the subject and telling them about their words, in the candid and tender way they’ve come to love him for. Sensing his struggle, Tav pulls him into a hug, whispering the confession into his ear again. Yes. It does not feel wrong, merely unfamiliar. Smiling down at them, Halsin finally responds: “I did not expect to go on yet another adventure with you, but for what it’s worth, this might be the sweetest one.” He isn’t ready yet. But he will be.

Karlach

“What?!” Karlach’s voice is loud enough to startle Tav, pulling them out of their dreams. “You what?” Slowly coming to, Tav rubs their eyes as they try to comprehend what has their beloved tiefling in such an outburst. “What’s wrong?” they ask groggily, but Karlach shakes them awake, beaming, grinning, giggling. “Say it again”, she demands, and Tav is too tired to understand. “Say what again” they ask, fumbling for Karlach’s face to caress her cheek. “You said you love me, you dumbass”, Karlach chuckles. “Which is good, because I love you too, and you know what they say about the drunk and the sleepy: they don’t lie.” Tav chuckles nervously, confused but not opposed to the sudden declaration. “I do”, they eventually sigh, and Karlach’s face lights up, even in the dim light. “I love you.”

Lae’zel

“T’chk”, the githianky scoffs, shoving her elbow into Tav’s side. “Don’t mock me with such foolery.” When she realizes that Tav’s asleep, unable to defend themselves (or reassure her), Lae’zel rolls her eyes and pulls the covers over her shoulders. “Stupid”, she curses under her breath, and it’s unclear whether she means Tav or herself. The next morning Lae’zel pulls Tav aside, a worried expression plastered across her face. “The tadpole seems to be messing with your head”, she says, eyes skeptical and alert. “Otherwise you’d hardly confess your love to me in your dreams.” Tav stares at them, then chuckles softly, touched by their lover’s particular way of expressing concern. “I’m fine, Lae’zel”, they insist. “Loving you is not a weakness.”

Shadowheart

Her small gasp surprises even her. Then, the pain follows. The white hot flash in her hand brings her to tears, and Shadowheart is glad that Tav is sleeping, oblivious to what has happened. Loving them should not hurt, but Shar keeps her brutal grasp on her. The next day, Shadowheart keeps looking at Tav, trying to gather the courage to tell them, but each time, the pain takes her breath away. When Tav ultimately notices, they pull her into a calm embrace, rocking her slowly until the cleric confesses. “I love you”, they repeat, kissing Shadowheart on her forehead. Suddenly, she feels safe – cradled and protected, belonging to them as they belong to her. The pain fades. Shar has no power over her heart. Not while she’s with Tav.

Wyll

When he hears Tav mumble the declaration in their sleep, he rolls over, facing them. Looks like he needs to speed up his plans – he’d been wanting to tell them that he loved them for days now, debating with himself if it was too much, too soon. Tav’s confession eases him. This is good. The next day he takes them to a secluded spot, flowers upon flowers decorating a small picnic blanket. “What’s the occasion?”, Tav asks, and he smiles, he already knows, so nothing they can say will deter him. “Oh, nothing”, he teases, “just that I love you.” Tav’s surprised, or relieved, maybe both, and they giggle with joy as Wyll pulls them in for a kiss. “I love you too”, they sigh, eliciting a knowing grin from their partner. He will never tell. Some things are sweeter left in the dark, quiet nights he intends to share with them, every night, for the rest of his life.

#astarion #halsin #karlach #shadowheart #gale #wyll #lae’zel #i don’t know shit about minthara so i’m skipping her #should i add gortash and raphael???#my writing #thank you for this prompt it’s so wholesome #please send me more stuff like this

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luveline · 1 year

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𝐢𝐟 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐬 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

part one | part two | part three

You don’t mean to make an enemy of Eddie Munson — he’s handsome and talented, but he’s the biggest jerk you’ve ever met. Eddie thinks you’re infuriatingly pretty, emphasis on the infuriating. Eddie goes home, you’re on tour, and the lines between you both continue to blur.

fem!reader, enemies-to-lovers, rival rockstars, mutual pining, kisses! tender neck kisses <3, past miscommunication, angst, hurt-comfort, sexual tension, TW mentioned recreational drug use, drinking, smoking, swearing

𓆩❤︎𓆪

Hawkins, Indiana, December 1990

Eddie listens to his walkman until it runs out of juice. Through the flight from California to Indianapolis, the hours-long bus ride that stops just short of Hawkins, and the final connecting bus on the outskirts. Some metalheads listen to strictly metal, but Eddie likes variety occasionally. Plus, he doesn’t think it’s possible to have ears and not love The Rolling Stones’ Some Girls.

He has one girl on his mind the entire journey home. He tries not to think about you. He makes himself sick shoving you down into a crevice of his heart, so he admits defeat. His fingers twitch, eager to write about you. He has some lyrics in mind. Evil wretched girl with wicked sweet hands. Heart eater. Soft around the edges.

He wants to write about your stupid chubby thighs and how they look in skirts. He wants to write about your wrists, your knees and their ever-present bruises. Metaphors for your sickly sweetness won’t stick; cruel becomes kind. Taunting turns teasing.

It feels like it’s eating him alive, spine first. You’re gnawing on his ribs as he hikes the half a mile from the bus stop into Forest Hills trailer park. He can feel your thumb rubbing makeup off of his cheek as he drags his suitcase up the metal steps to Wayne’s —Eddie’s— front door.

“Wayne?” he calls. It’s pitch fucking dark. He’s surprised he got all the way here without falling in some ditch. “Could you let me in? It’s freezing.”

He hears stirring from inside. He calls out again in case his uncle changes his mind. “Wayne, it’s me. I’m sorry it’s late. Please don’t leave me out here.”

He’s joking. Wayne would sooner shoot Eddie dead than put him in harm's way. He’s always been that kind of parent, hiding his deep rooted worry underneath a feigned reluctance. Footsteps shuffle and floorboards creak. The door opens between them, and Eddie shoves his suitcase and backpack inside without properly looking at his old man.

“Eddie, what the fuck, kid?”

“Sorry,” Eddie says, looking up. Wayne’s squinting at him. He’s wearing jeans with deep creases. He must’ve been sleeping in them. “I timed it all wrong. Started coming home and I didn’t think about it. I walked here, you know that?”

Wayne hugs him. Eddie isn’t expecting it. It’s not like Wayne isn’t affectionate, he doles out shoulder claps and hair ruffles like candy, but their hugs are usually one-armed back-slapping affairs. This is a loose encircling with a scratchy cheek against Eddie’s forehead.

“I’ve been worrying about you.”

Guilt sinks like a stone to the bottom of his stomach. Eddie kind of feels like he might puke. He wraps his arms around his uncle and breathes in his smell. Diesel and grease, sure, but so much louder than that is his mint and rosemary soap.

The weight of Wayne’s arms over Eddie’s shoulders is one of his favourite feelings. He hadn’t realised how much he missed it, but then… maybe he had.

He wants to tell Wayne there’s no need to worry, but he’s never been good at lying to him. “Think I might have fallen off the wagon, Wayne.”

“Well. Happens to all of us.” He pats Eddie’s back and steps away. He doesn’t look any older than the last time Eddie saw him. In fact, he looks good. Puffy-eyed but healthy. “I thought for sure I’d have to come track you down and drag you back for Christmas myself.”

Eddie locks the door and Wayne shuffles into the kitchen promising coffee and cake. He should protest, tell Wayne he can go back to bed and they’ll catch up in the morning, but he missed the small stuff like this, when he’d get home late from band practice or a midnight premiere of a sci-fi flick and his uncle would be sitting up waiting.

Eddie loves being home. There’s something to be said about living like the rich —he loves all the high ceilings and endless cushy carpeting— but nothing feels as good as coming home. His room is exactly how he left it minus a few ashtrays and his super unsecret pot stash. The poster wallpaper and the cheap paint. His raggedy bedspread and the corners tucked in haphazardly by tired hands. Eddie resists the want to dive under the covers and slide into the dip in his mattress. He knows every box spring in that fucker, and he missed it.

Eddie drops his bags at the end of the bed. All the clothes in his suitcase smell like Coors Light, so he changes into rags he left behind, a too-big pair of plaid pyjamas that slip down his hips and a sleeveless Motörhead shirt. Maybe. The emblem is worn to nothing but black lines.

He follows the smell of coffee through the hallway and into the Munson kitchen, tightening the drawstrings of his pants as he goes, chin tucked to his chest. “I’m losing weight, Wayne, I’m like a fucking twig.”

“Don’t tell me that shit. God knows I taught you how to take care of yourself.”

“I’m stupid. I’m really stupid, actually.”

Wayne whacks the coffee maker. It whirs. “Pick a mug, son.��

“You been cleaning? I don’t wanna look down and see a spider in my cup.”

“Have you been cleaning?” Wayne asks.

“It’s insane how much I haven’t been cleaning.”

“Some things don’t change.”

“You fucker,” Eddie says, laughing up a storm as he picks out his favourite mug, the Garfield one with a big scratch down the left side.

“You fucker,” Wayne snaps back. “I should send you packing for the bad language alone.”

“They don’t make you clean your hotel rooms, Wayne, that’s the point of them.”

“I raised you better than that.”

“You did. I keep it classy, I swear, I just,” —Eddie sits down in his chair, watching Wayne stir in milk and sugar just the way he likes it, and feels more than sees as a familiar contentedness like a Gaussian film settles over their easy conversation— “don’t clean up after Gareth. He’s a monster.”

“Do me a favour, Eds. Try and be the best you can be, alright?”

He swallows. He purses his lips. A peculiar lump grows in his throat, but he bites it back and squares himself up. “Yeah. I will.” He thinks about all the parties and powders and girls. He’s never done any cruel shit to anybody and he’s a sweetheart with the ladies, but there are times when he’d known he was lying before he even said he’d call. He thinks about some of the shit he’s said to you and has to wipe his sweaty palms off on his shirt.

“I know we didn’t have shit when you were growing up,” Wayne says, not tearful or resentful, just honest as he passes Eddie his mug of coffee and sits down. “And all that money must feel good–”

“It’s not like that,” Eddie says.

“When I see my nephew on TV smashing up equipment worth more than his house–”

“I already told you on the phone it was an accident. And it wouldn’t be worth more than this if you actually cashed the cheques I send you. I know they aren’t bouncing.”

“I don’t want your money, Eddie,” Wayne says gently. It’s odd but not uncommon to hear him speak in such dulcet tones. “That’s not what I raised you for.”

“I know, you–” He cuts his insult off at the stem and scratches his head instead.

Eddie isn’t hankering for a tongue lashing tonight and his scalp is too itchy to focus. He hasn’t washed his hair in a week. It’s obvious just looking at him, curls weighed down and straightened out from the sheer grossness of it. “Shit, I’m disgusting,” he says.

“You’re gross,” Wayne agrees. “I’ll cash a cheque when the bank opens and get you a bottle of degreaser.”

Eddie hides his smile with a long sip of coffee. It’s hot and awful, ‘cause no matter how much love Wayne puts into it, dollar store coffee tastes like burnt grounds from the get go. Eddie missed it more than anything. Sometimes he’s in the back of the queasy tour bus or lying on the floor in his hotel room coming down off of something risky and all he can think about is Wayne’s coffee.

Wayne has a hard and fast rule about drugs: if it isn’t green, I don’t want you touching it. Eddie still remembers the gasket he blew when he found that little baggy of red and white pills shoved inside an altoids tin. He can’t imagine telling his uncle what he really meant when he said he fell off the wagon.

Hey, Uncle Wayne, I have this weird love-hate relationship with a girl I don’t really know, and I got caught up doing party drugs (unrelated to our relationship) until I got so high I blacked out, and when I woke up she was there and she was looking at me like you look at a bird with a broken wing, you know? Anyway, the memory of her face won’t leave me alone. It makes me feel like crying. So I haven’t touched anything in two weeks and I thought coming home for Christmas would make up for all the secrets I’m keeping, but now—

Now Eddie doesn’t know what he was thinking. He can’t tell Wayne any of that shit. He wouldn’t even know where to start.

Wayne would ask something like, It took a girl for you to realise drugs are bad news? And Eddie would say back, No, that’s not it, it wasn’t just her.

“I’m sooooo fucked,” Eddie says slowly, mildly, scrubbing his eyes with the tips of his fingers. He drags his hands down his face and blinks against the burning he’s left in his wake.

“You’re not fucked, kid. Lemme cut you a slice of cake.”

Wayne cuts him a slice of cranberry coffee cake and Eddie eats it in two bites. Wayne makes him a burger after that. He doesn’t know what time it is, if it’s closer to night or morning, but Wayne doesn’t mention it until the burger’s gone and an alarm clock is ringing. Eddie watches his uncle truck into the living room and feels crestfallen though he doesn’t deserve to. Eddie hasn’t been home in months. He imagines Wayne alone at the kitchen table with an empty greasy plate waiting on him and wants to cry again.

Wayne returns in coveralls. He gets a good look at Eddie’s face and sighs, dropping a heavy hand into Eddie’s dark hair.

“It’ll be fine,” Wayne says.

I’m sorry, Eddie thinks. For being a bad kid.

He’d said that once. Wayne was sweeping up a smashed plate after a long shift and Eddie, thirteen and defeated with an ache where his mom should’ve been, had been trying to apologise. It had felt so crushing, that broken plate. The last straw. He’d had tears running down his pale cheeks, his hands in his hoodie pocket desperately grabbing at one another.

And when he’d said it, Wayne had just looked at him. On his knees with a brush, glass shards shining on the linoleum between them.

You think you’re a bad kid?

Wayne isn’t old and he definitely hadn’t been back then. Thirty something with a crying teenager and what felt like all the world's self-loathing crammed into a tiny kitchen. Eddie’s older now, and he knows how much Wayne gave up for him. Not just his bedroom, which had been relinquished with little more than a shoulder squeeze and five dollars for posters, but a life. Wayne could’ve done anything. Could’ve been a rockstar.

I ruin everything, he’d said. Teenage angst, maybe, but Eddie felt it in his bones.

You ain’t ruined anything.

He hadn’t known what to say so he’d cried, waiting for that nice heavy hand that tussles his hair and pats his back to finally strike out.

Eds, you’re not a bad kid. Said so quietly. With a steadiness that meant truth. You’re my kid. Could I make a bad kid?

And yeah, there had been a threshold of sincerity and they were passing it. It was the late 70’s. Boys really didn’t cry. At least, not in public. So Eddie wiped his snotty nose in his sleeve and laughed, and then he got on his knees to clean up.

“Try and sleep,” Wayne says now, older but unchanged otherwise. Still ridiculously forgiving of his not-so-young sprog. He looks at Eddie with his lips pressed together. Eddie wonders if he’s going to hug him again, but Wayne shakes his head. “Shower, you animal. I’ll be back early.”

Eddie sleeps. He showers. He washes his hair three times and doesn’t use conditioner so his curls don’t really curl but it’s fine. It doesn’t matter. He had a moment in the shower where he swore he remembered something you said to him when he was blackout on sniff cut with procaine and booze. Your voice tentative, the heat of your hand on his cheek. “Are you okay?”

He moans into his damp hands, limp hair hanging either side of his head and dripping into his pyjama pants. He can’t forgive his younger self for all the sleeveless shirts, not when Hawkins feels colder than the arctic circle and the window seal in the kitchen has been leaky for the last five years.

He thinks about going shopping, because no matter what Wayne says about degreaser, Eddie’s starting to realise that his uncle won’t be cashing any of the cheques he sent home, and if he wants Wayne taken care of he’s gonna have to do this shit himself, but he doesn’t know where his key is.

“I’m a fuck up,” he says, catching his eye in the mirror as he straightens out.

His reflection frowns at him.

He did manage to get Wayne some shit from California before he came home; a real brown leather jacket from the 60s with minimal wear, though if Wayne wears it is another thing entirely; a Roy Orbinson record that’s miraculously unwarped despite Eddie’s poor packing; more sweatshirts than his uncle could ever wear through. Eddie knows he’ll try.

There’s some other stuff. CD’s and a nice edition of War of the World’s. Whatever he could stuff in his backpack.

“Are you going home for Christmas?” you’d asked him.

He sat on the bottom step of a huge staircase and you the one above him. People walked around you without notice. Two rocks in a stream bed.

“Maybe.”

“Maybe? You aren’t sure?”

He’d got stuck looking at your cheek, the soft curve of it and the highest point, where light like a small star had kissed you and turned his stomach, that’s how sick with envy he was.

“I get it,” you’d said, “things at home aren’t always easy.”

“Not that. My Uncle Wayne is my hero.”

“And you still don’t wanna go home?” you’d asked gently.

“It’s not about what I want.” He remembers this part in detail. He’d stopped looking at you, laying back against the stairs, each step digging into his back. The ceiling had been far away.

You’d inched into his frame of view, looking down at him with an expression unreadable to his mixed up head. You weren't quite smiling. He still isn’t sure what it meant.

“It is. That’s the whole point,” you’d said.

Eddie’s all memory this morning. The ones with Wayne had felt less memory and more story, because memory is unfaithful, and over time we start to break down on the details, putting want in place of fact. But your face hovering above his as the soft strands of your hair ghost against his jaw, all your glitters and the shiny pink sheen on your lips, that’s closer. He remembers how you smelled, and how your tongue peeked out to wet your lips uselessly between words.

Jet lag and the general feeling of you keeps him lethargic, but he cleans the house (and he’s always said house, even if some people don’t agree, it houses him, fuck you Jenny P from eighth grade grade) and makes dinner ready for Wayne when he gets home. He puts the radio on and tunes into Roller FM. When one of Godless’ songs comes on, he’s not surprised. He listens with his head lolled against the kitchen wall, eyes closed, and tries not to think about your fingers choking the neck of your bass guitar.

—

Indy Rock Centre, Indianapolis, January 1991

Whoever arranged the tour is a sadist. You can’t believe that a team of professionals sat around a long glossy table with their coffee cups and finger foods and thought, yeah, that will work. You feel like you’re being fucking yo-yo’d between states.

When you’d joined godless as a stand in for Millyanna, your dates had been plentiful but never as disorganised. Nothing compares to this shit. You wonder if going crazy is a sign of making it big, or if maybe you’re not cut out for all of this after all.

Jan 22, Kalamazoo, Missouri. Jan 23, Toledo, Ohio. Jan 25, Los Angeles, California. Jan 26, Philadelphia; Jan 28, Indiana, Jan 29, Wisconsin. February? Back in Missouri, back in Ohio, a couple more state dates and then bam — Canada. Don’t worry though, after a week in Canada, you’ll never guess where you’re playing.

Fucking Florida.

At least you aren’t alone in your torture. For starters, there’s Morgan, your singer, and Ananya, your drummer, who will also endure and suffer. Then there’s the roadies, the techies and the groupies. The opening acts. The managers, the assistants, the personal assistants, the boyfriends and girlfriends and wives and mistresses.

And what’s more, you're one of the hundreds of bands touring in North America this year. Maybe thousands. You certainly aren’t the first musician to have to suck it up and tough it out.

Still, you like to complain.

It’s your right, for dealing with Morgan. And also— you aren’t getting paid for the tour until after the tour is over, so really complaining is the wealth of the soul. You do get a weekly allowance, which is awesome and not something you were getting beforehand, working instead on an invoice. You’d play a show, you’d get paid for the show. This time you’re getting a flat rate at the end of the tour that’s been contractually agreed upon. It’s more money than you’ll ever know what to do with. One of the more shameful ways you waste time in your little bus bunk is trying to figure out where to put it.

I want a house, you think. A mortgage on a small, pretty house where the weather isn't too hot or too cold. And a puppy. Probably. Maybe a fish tank. I want a bed that spans from one wall to another and…

You wince. For a moment, you’d seen something stupid, a pale face hidden in the pillow across the way.

Two puppies, you think forcefully.

You’ve played four shows already this week. You have one tonight in Indy Rock Centre, and another tomorrow in Wisconsin. You got to stay in the warm, non-vibrating luxury of a hotel room last night, but tonight you have to play the show and get straight back on the bus.

“You’re gonna glare holes in her. What did she do?”

You stop your mindless staring and come back down to earth. Ananya’s smiling at you, thick eyebrows lifted in wait for your answering gossip. You’d been staring at Morgan where she’s sitting across the room in a plush armchair, cucumbers over her eyes and swarmed by makeup artists and hairstylists with a pedicurist at her feet.

Ananya does all her make up herself. You want to ask her to do yours, but you worry her messy sweetness won’t suit you. She overlines her already big lips with a sticky red-pink, giving her an effect of having just been kissed (a lot), and rings brown eyes with a slick black kohl.

“She hasn’t done anything. Yet. Today.”

“She has been a monster, hasn’t she?” she asks, sinking down into the couch with a sigh. She flicks her hair over her shoulder. Her curls are so healthy they bounce.

You hum your agreement and slide down with her. Touring again, Ananya has remembered how much it sucks to be alone without allies. Morgan gets especially volatile from the stress and close quarters. She’s nicer when you’re alone.

She’ll still ditch you at a moment's notice, but you get it. It’s like high school.

You miss Dornie.

It’s cruel to make a friend and suddenly lose them. You can’t help thinking he won’t want to be your friend again the next time you see him. It had been so nice… so peaceful, to know there was someone in your corner. Dornie doesn’t care how famous you are or how much money you’re making. He just wanted to make sure you got home safe and talk about old movies.

“I’m gonna go find something to drink,” you say.

Ananya nods. “Bring me back a coke?”

“Yeah.”

Morgan stops you on your way out with a foot in front of your legs. “Hey, killer, I gave one of your passes to a fan earlier. Is that cool?”

“Morgan, when have you ever cared about my opinion?”

“Ooh, meow,” she croons, taking a cucumber from her eye to squint at you. “What’s the matter, baby? I figured you weren’t using them.”

You smile at her. You can’t help yourself. She stopped hurting your feelings a long time ago. “You want a drink from the machine?”

“Sparkling water, serf.”

If you smudge her nail polish on the way past it isn’t your fault. It isn’t cool with you that she’s given away one of your passes, even though you ask your general manager Angel to give them out at the beginning of the show every night. It’s presumptuous! Normal people don’t do stuff like that without asking.

Serf…

Your nose wrinkles. The dressing room door closes at your back and you take a moment to recall where you’d seen the bank of vending machines in the maze of white hallways. Indy Rock Centre is one of the biggest venues in Indianapolis, and you’ve been here before countless times on the other side to see Black Sabbath, Metallica, The Stacey’s, Doorway to Cooperstown. It’s where all the biggest and best get to play. You wish they’d given you a map.

You can still walk around without getting recognised. You’re not a superstar, just a guitarist. You smile at people who smile at you and avoid the rest, dodging past black polo shorts wheeling equipment and busybody higher ups barking orders. Someone stands in a corner talking on a brick of a handheld phone. You stare at him for a bit. You’ll never get used to it, phones without wires. Next there’ll be TVs without satellites and electric guitars without amps.

The vending machine shines like a red beacon at the end of the hallway. You hurry to it, feeding the machine your crumpled per diem one dollar at a time. You get a coke for Ananya, sparkling water for Morgan. When it gets to your own drink, the machine starts to revolt. It spits your dollar out unsympathetically. You pull it from the mouth and flatten it against your thigh.

It doesn’t work again. You nibble your bottom lip. Dollar pulled taut between your two hands, you lift your knee and rub it against your stockings.

“Fucking fuck,” you whisper, watching in mild horror as the machine accepts and then rejects your dollar for a third time.

You tuck it back into your purse, a pretty leather thing that clasps shut and fits perfectly in the small pocket of your jacket. It’s your luck, but whatever. They’ll probably bring a couple of bottles of water to the dressing room in a bit. Maybe even a cocktail bar.

“Hey.”

Your internal monologue chokes. You question your senses for the split second it takes you to meet his eyes — baby browns, soft and flush with gorgeously long lashes. If there’s one thing about Eddie Munson, it’s that he has very sweet eyes. Not the kind you can replicate in daydreams.

He’s dressed like a bitch. You’re so sick of him. He has his jacket tied around his waist and his shirt has no sleeves, the alarmingly shapely stretch of his arms on full display. Black ink climbs the hills and ridges of his stark veins, his herd of bats jumping as he offers you a dollar.

You take it. You aren’t sure what to say, so you bask in the almost-silence, every nerve aflame as you feed the vending machine and click the button for your drink. Equipment cages rattle. Radios chirp. Your drink thinks from behind the red Coca Cola panel down into the bottom of the machine for collection.

“What’re you doing here?” you ask finally, squatting to grab your drink.

You stand, train your eyes on the floor, shove your drink under your arm, and crack open your purse to give him your defective dollar in exchange. He takes it without fanfare.

“Are you busy?” he asks.

Regrettably, no. The majority of soundcheck is done, and the show doesn’t start for hours. He gestures to the left and you follow, stupidly, with no idea where he’s leading you to and not a clue what he wants, leaving Morgan and Ananya’s drinks for whoever finds them. Eddie’s jeans aren’t as loose on his hips as they were the last time you saw him. His distracting arms are bigger, biceps like a taunt as he holds a door open for you. You take a breath as you pass him, but he doesn’t smell like anything. No sweat or cologne, no cigarette smoke.

“Is it mean if I say you look good with clean hair?” you ask, squinting in the sudden brightness.

He’s led you outside to the back of the venue. Your tour bus stands imposing at the end of the lot, surrounded by Godless branded vans and fancy cars. A truck beeps as it loads into the receiving area backward.

“Probably.”

“You do, though. Look good.”

“So people tell me.”

Fuck, you think. Fuck it. If he’s gonna be weird about it then you’re pulling the olive branch back in and snapping it in half.

The sky is white as snow. It hurts to look at, the sun like a steaming egg yolk covered in its own whites, thick clouds shielding her warmth. You pull the sides of your jacket together and button up, uninterested in catching a cold when the next six months of your life are planned down to the hour. Eddie puts his jacket on and zips it tight.

“Wanna go for a walk?” he asks.

“Why?”

He pushes his hands into his pockets. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he felt self conscious. “Why not?” he asks.

You nod. You and Eddie aren’t friends, but you aren’t not friends, either. You’re being cold because you’re seized with embarrassment, not because he deserves it. You have memories of his hand on your cheek, and a cherry stem between his teeth, and you don’t know what you said exactly but you know it hadn’t been amicable small talk. You hate him for knowing stuff about you that you’d wanted to keep secret, and you hate yourself more for telling him in the first place.

“I came home for Christmas. I’m back in Los Angeles tomorrow night.”

“That’s convenient,” you say.

“Just had to see you before I went,” he agrees. Deadpan humour is terrifying on him.

He ducks under a low tree branch and holds it away from your face. Together, you begin to walk down the street and into the city, over patched sidewalks and past brand new stores. The mom and pop shops of your childhood are mostly gone.

Conversations between you two have this odd oscillation between over familiarity and stilted nothings. You like over familiarity better, when you’re both prone to misunderstandings. You’d take snipping at one another over this strange quiet.

“Is it nice? Being home?” he asks finally.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’ve been here for what, a month now? I just got here, and it wasn’t to see the ‘rents.”

Eddie lifts his chin to the sky a touch. Molasses of sunlight seep through the clouds now, racing to caress his waved hair and high cheekbones. “It’s been awesome,” he says, his eyes closed. His voice like tree bark, uneven but tough. “Makes me wonder what I liked about L.A. so much.”

“All the free stuff,” you offer. “And free girls.”

“The girls aren’t free,” he protests.

“You aren’t getting free girls?” you ask.

“Are you?”

“Would that bother you?”

Close-lipped, his tongue pokes the skin under his bottom lip.

“You think stuff like that bothers me?” he asks.

“It bothers some people.”

Eddie isn’t meeting your eyes consistently, but you don’t think he’s lying when he says, “No, it wouldn’t bother me. But my Uncle Wayne would fucking kill me if he heard me agree that the women are free.”

“How progressive.”

He visually bites back a laugh. He looks up from his shoes and sees you smiling and it breaks him, his laugh sputtering out in bits and pieces. “Shit, I’m just trying to be an okay person.”

You concede, “Fine, the girls aren’t free. They’re just very happy to sleep with you for very little reward.”

“Some might say the reward was, you know, pleasure–”

“Ew–”

“Don’t be childish. What did you want me to say? The reward is a long night of rough and tumble fucking–”

“I liked pleasure better,” you interject. You dance around a huge crack in the sidewalk and pause as you and Eddie reach a crossing. “All night? Really?”

“Want me to prove it?”

“I don’t think you could, Munson.”

“I could…” He rests his hand between your shoulder blades. “But I don’t think we’re there yet.”

He encourages you to cross the street, weaving and winding between parked cars, moving cyclists, and a small family bulldozing passers-bys with a twin stroller. When you’ve crossed to the other side uninjured, his hand falls away. The heat of his palm lingers.

“Good observation.”

“You’re sarcastic today. Or is being on the road making you cranky?”

“Being on the road is definitely making me cranky. It fucking sucks, I forgot how badly it sucks, and I don’t get paid day to day like I used to.”

“Oh, you’re getting a flat rate now? Go you, superstar.” Your walk is more of a crawl, the two of you turned to the left side of the street where children shriek and giggle in the outdoor seating of a restaurant. Eddie stops. “How’s the allowance?”

“You get one of those too?”

Eddie bumps his elbow into yours. “We’re kids. They know it. It’s pretty shitty considering how much money they make off of us in the end, but that’s an asshole thing to say, right? We’re lucky.”

You roll your shoulders. He’s more than right. Coming from nothing, a small town, with no college degree and no rich parents to float you, Eddie’s right. You might have talent and you might work hard but so do a lot of other people, and you’re here, and they’re working for minimum wage back home still hoping.

You wish every kid like you could get to where you are, but they won’t. You’re more than lucky. You should buy a scratcher.

“We’re fucking lucky,” Eddie says slowly. “And it’s awful anyways.” He grins. “Come to dinner with me?”

You blink. “What?”

“Dinner? I’ve been there before,” —he points to the restaurant you’d stopped across from— “and it’s nice.”

You’re insane and you agree. It’s not too fancy to feel like you’re on a date from the outside, and once you’re indoors you feel relaxed. With a glass of cider in your hands you feel positively giddy.

Eddie slouches back into a velvet booth seat that might’ve once been red. He keeps the jacket on and you’re grateful for it, lest you see his stupid nice arms and turn ditzy. His nose twitches as looks out over the restaurant floor toward the kitchen visible through a long window. It’s warm but not stuffy in here, the air fragrant with browning butter and minced garlic.

The menus are sticky. You pretend to pour over one, not knowing what to say to break the silence.

“I know I said you were being sarcastic,” Eddie says, “but I think I meant quiet. Even when you sound annoyed, I can barely hear you.”

“That’s dramatic,” you murmur, proving his point.

“Are you feeling okay?”

“Well, in what way?”

“What way feels wrong to you?” he asks.

Trapped. You sip your cold cider. He raps his knuckles against the table. “Come on, what have you got to lose? What did you say to me before?” His eyes soften. “Nobody would believe me if I told them.”

You tap your glass with your thumbnail.

“I’m okay,” you say honestly. “Most of the time, I feel fine. Or, I forget what’s wrong.”

Eddie flicks his own glass. “Is this about feeling like nothing?”

“I don’t know why I told you that.”

“I have one of those faces.”

“And you were feeding me booze.”

“Don’t say that. You make it sound so shitty.”

“It wasn’t shitty,” you say. “Free drinks, right? What’s shitty about letting a pretty guy pay for you?”

“You think I’m pretty?” he asks.

You kick him under the table. You don’t know what comes over you, shy at your own honesty and irritated with his ridiculousness. I let you kiss me, you want to say. I’d let you do worse. Of course I think you’re pretty. You aren’t cruel — it’s more of a shove with the toe of your shoe. Eddie laughs through a gasp and kicks you back, heel of his converse flat to your calf.

“You fucking–”

“Sweetheart?” he finishes.

“No, fuck you. You string me around with your hot and cold act and now you’re coming to my shows taking me to dinner,” —your voice stiffens, thickens, as you glare at him from across the table— “asking me how I’m doing? And I’m the one who has to explain themselves? You tell me, Munson. Do I think that you’re pretty?”

Eddie’s sort of frozen, like a laugh got stuck in his throat and he really is surprised by your sudden anger. You might feel surprised yourself if you had the wherewithal. As it stands, your irritation and your want for an answer is too much.

He hits the toe of his shoe into yours. “Hey,” he says. “Sorry. I’m not… trying to string you around.”

He doesn’t say anything else. You deflate, ashamed of your sudden outburst. Tired of all the games.

“I think you’re pretty,” he says.

“That’s not what I asked.”

“It’s what I’ve been trying to say.”

The food arrives and saves him. You want him to explain —you want him to expand, needily, on what he means and how much he means it— and he clearly doesn’t. He grabs his fork and starts shovelling pasta into his mouth like it’ll magically turn the conversation to something more palatable for him.

“I’d like to change my answer,” you say.

Eddie swallows harshly. “Can’t. All compliments have been locked in. Maybe at our next cat fight.”

—

Eddie’s heart isn’t pounding like he worried it might when he asked you to follow him into the bathroom. He pictured sweaty, shaking palms, his hands hesitant, a reminiscent picture of a past self who didn’t know how to make girls make noise. He thought the next time he was alone with you, it would be the tragic scene from the movies where the boy bears his heart and the girl can’t accept it. He’s not expecting you to understand. It’s getting to the point where the mean shit he said to you isn’t made up of words anymore but the image of you in the Prover Theatre with your sparkling dress and your dull eyes. He hates that he made you feel that way, and he should say sorry. He feels fucking sorry.

“Don’t cut me,” you say, quiet so you won’t be caught together.

“I won’t.”

“When was the last time you did this?”

“It’s like riding a bike,” he insists. “I haven’t forgotten.”

You simper. Propped up on the sink’s counter, your skirt hiking up your thighs (imagine him covering his face with his hands, rocking his head from side to side, you’re wearing garters) and your jacket falling into the basin. You’ve turned one arm toward him trustingly, but apprehension plays clear as day over your mouth. He wants to remark that your mouth is pretty, but it’s not the right word. Perfect feels closer, but again, it’s not what he wants. He has a fascination with how you talk and when you don’t, how your lips have a mind of their own sometimes, nibbled and popped and pouting.

“It’s easier if you take your shirt off.”

“How many girls believed that one?” you ask happily. He’s ecstatic. Dinner perked you up and now you’re all smiles and warm laughs. He doesn’t know why you’d been angry with him (he does) because you started it (not really), but you got something off your chest at least.

“None,” he says. “I’m serious that it’s easier. But you really don’t have to take it off for me to make it look good.”

Eddie wields his small pen knife toward your arm.

“I like my sleeves,” you say as he takes the hem of one such sleeve into his free hand.

“Don’t be a baby.” He pulls it taut from your skin. You’re both smiling. Carbs are good like that.

“I have fat arms,” you try.

He’s out of his mind. Eddie leans down and kisses the top of your arm quickly. “Shut up,” he says.

He doesn’t have time to think about what he’s done. It’ll torture him tonight when all he has for distraction are hotel sheets, and then tomorrow on the red eye back to L.A. He honestly doesn’t wanna look at you because if your nose is even slightly wrinkled he’ll have to turn to the gross toilet in the corner and chuck up, but he also doesn't want to freak you out. He looks up at you from under his lashes.

You look flustered.

Not disgusted.

“I’m doing it,” he warns.

“Yeah,” you say, nearly normal. “Fine. Make me look cool.”

“You admit that I look cool.”

“No.”

Eddie digs the tip of his pen knife into your sleeve and starts pulling. The fabric tears away in a jagged-lined but even circle around your arm, broadening a tantalising stretch. His stomach hurts a bit. To reach your second arm, the one furthest from him, he has to take up station between your spread legs. Or maybe he doesn’t have to, but he does, your thighs like two warm spots either side of him as he leans in close.

“And this is what’s gonna make them all like me, right? This is the cement of my street cred?”

“Your street cred? No. And I don’t think anything you do could make them like you.” You lean back at his words. He pulls you back in, fingers braceleting your arm as he fakes taking a measurement. “If they don’t like you already, they won’t. Not your fault, not your problem. Who says you even like them?”

“I do, though. That’s my problem. I even like Little Miss Fleetwood,” you grumble.

He raises his eyebrows to show he’s listening, stabbing at your sleeve and tearing slow. “She still tripping you up?”

“No. I’m just trying to make you laugh.”

He laughs under his breath. “Mission accomplished, baby,” he murmurs.

Both sleeves sliced, Eddie steps away from you, ignoring the heat in his stomach to take you in. People who don’t know where they stand shouldn’t be so close to one another, he decides, ‘cause wishful thinking has him marking your hands as wanting. Your fingers move slowly as if through water, tip of your index on the left hand stroking down the back of your right marriage. Eddie pins salaciousness on everybody he meets —coke is falling out of fashion fast but sex is always in— but he can’t get a faithful read on you now. He wants you to want to be kissed. Doesn’t trust that you do.

“You look edgy.”

“In a good way or a bad way?” you ask.

“An awful way.”

You go quiet, your hands go still. You raise your head until it’s too much, and he realises he’s been moving back in. He drops the penknife in the sink on top of your jacket, putting his hand on your freshly bared arm and bunching the sleeve up as much as he can without it pulling at you. He’s greedy and he wants to palm at your skin like an asshole, that’s not your problem.

“That bad?” you ask.

He angles his face over yours. He needs two inches maybe three, and you’d be kissing. His hand falls down your arm to your elbow, clasping weakly over your skin.

“No,” he says. He can barely hear himself.

Greedy. His second hand comes up to your face, waiting, and when you lift your jaw just so he slots his hand under it and holds you.

“What are we doing?” you whisper.

What are ‘we’ doing?

“Nothing you don’t want to do.” He widens the gap between you.

“I know– I know that.” Your arm ventured forward, fingers twisting around the hem of his shirt. You tug it gently, pulling him forward again. “I just don’t understand it. You. I don’t get what’s happening, Eddie.”

“Well… I was going to kiss you.” Eddie fights to sound the way he feels, out of his element but so earnest his chest aches. “I really, really… want to kiss you.”

It doesn’t feel like admitting defeat, as he’d initially thought it might. Neither does it feel confessional. You can’t confess to a secret already known.

He kisses you just once. A light brush of his lips against yours. Anymore than that and he knows he’ll start making promises like someone who has room for them. His eyes scrunch closed hard and he struggles not to squeeze your poor cheek as the pressure of your lips builds, as they part, as he pulls back and you chase him. He can’t kiss your mouth anymore than that, but your hands are grabbing at him, pleading and twitching and cold against the searing skin of his abdomen as they search underneath his shirt. Eddie feels the soft curve of your hip under his hand, knowing he can’t fuck you here, and undecided on whether that’ll be his ruin or his saviour.

You shudder as he kisses down. His hands are hungry but his mouth is sweet, gentle like you deserve as he noses down the column of your throat.

“I don’t get you,” you say, your fingertips sewn into his hair, scratching over his scalp lightly. Your breath catches as he parts his lips. His teeth scratch over the damp crescents of previous kisses.

He loses himself in the ticklish feeling of your hand and the heat of your skin. “Hm?” he hums.

“I understood you better when I thought you didn’t like me.”

He kisses up to the soft crook of your jaw before edging you away, just enough to see the sad set of your eyes.

“Hey,” he says, utters, like you’re trading secrets. His thumb rubs your cheek, a rough touch. He’s never been much good at aligning his words with actions; his heart and his hands.

He doesn’t know what to do to fix your sad frown. He kisses you again in case that’s what you wanted but couldn’t say, and it works for a handful of blessed, wretched seconds. You kiss back hard. Eddie has to break it to take a breath.

You rest your forehead against his. It slides slowly to his nose, and eventually you’ve bowed your head, your hands slipping down to his elbows.

“I feel sick all the time,” you say. Your hands flex against his skin. “The only time I feel alright is when I’m playing– when I’m making something.” You press your head to his chest. “Or when I’m with you.”

Eddie thinks of all the shitty decisions he’s made. His restlessness, his bad attitude. His propensity to assume the worst. How he’d taken your thumb rubbing a smudge off of his cheek in the Prover Theatre as a jab, rather than a helping hand.

He wraps his arms around you.

Your head fits under his rather well.

“I know what you mean,” he says. And out of everything he’s told you today, that’s the hardest to say aloud.

Eddie hugs you in the dim light of that dingy bathroom knowing he’s running on borrowed time. All too soon, you’re pulling apart and he’s helping you off of the counter unnecessarily. You don’t hold hands on the way back to Wings Stadium. He thought you might. You’re quiet. He tries to cheer you up, feeling more and more like he’s done something wrong the closer you get to the venue.

He doesn’t have anything to offer. You’re both on tour now. He doesn’t have a clue when he’ll see you next, or what he’ll say when he does.

Miraculously, he gets you back to your dressing room. He gives your cheek a quick squeeze.

“Play well tonight,” he says.

“I always play well.”

You do. He watches you from the VIP section a couple of hours later, impressed. Mildly nauseous. His thumb worries the edge of the pass until it splits in his hand, paper coming apart from cardboard. Your singer might be a handful, but she knows when to be discreet. He slinks out before your set finishes through a side entrance, and his head races with your image. If it weren’t for your cut sleeves and the flank of your upper arm glowing under the stage lights, he’d put his kisses down to surreal delusion.

Eddie doesn’t notice the lone photographer hiding in the eaves.

The photographer notices him.

𓆩❤︎𓆪

!!! thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed! if you did, please consider reblogging, it helps so much! Let me know what you thought, what bits you liked and what you want to see next

can you feel another spat coming along 0.0 I honestly had so much fun writing this one especially the scene with Wayne and then the end scene in the bathroom <3 it’s always crazy to see hours and hours condensed into chapters like this but idc I’m having the time of my life and hope u guys r too! the word count is now at a solid 26k I believe though so it does feel rewarding in that way

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson #stranger things fic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson angst

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sashiavi · 6 months

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#18•𝙾𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚊𝚜𝚑𝚒•#18

𝙰𝚕𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚖 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 ʷᵒʳᵈ ᶜᵒᵘⁿᵗ ¹.⁵ᵏ

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→ᴰᵃʳᵏ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵂᵃʳⁿᶦⁿᵍ←

Alhaitham was a meany. That was a fact - not an opinion. At least two people in the whole of Tyvet could agree on that. His two roommates, You and Kaveh.

Alhaitham always had something to say; Mean quips about how "You're not doing it right" when you attempt a task in a way he wouldn't. His passive aggressive notes plastered on communal boards, poking fun at you for the public to see. He'd chastise you for leaving an assignment late, watching as you scramble to pull something together before the deadline - maybe that was warranted. At least he sat with you while you worked, tinkering away at whatever needed to be done. Unlike Kaveh, who had retired for the night and set off to the bar. Alhaitham offered advice and solutions and did his best to seem helpful. He even force fed you coffees and kept you hydrated through the night to assist you in getting through your important project. You appreciated the notion, at least he was being nice for once.

One thing leads to another, as they do. Your project is abandoned and your pretty self sits in Alhaitham's lap, steadily enjoying his company. The wood of the seat below you creaks. You wrap your arms around Alhaitham's neck, pushing your lips closer into his as you roll your hips on his thick cock. His length fills you so good, stretching you out all pliant just for him to enjoy.

His lips are warm on yours, devouring you deliciously while you grind on his cock, pretty pussy gushing sweetly while you ride him. Your time with him went blissfully, his thick cock presses into just the right spots in your cunny. The familiar pulse of arousal burns on your clit, leaving you gushing and throbbing on his length. But. There's something else. A funny feeling in your tummy, unlike the delicious squeeze of an orgasm, something different. Thinking about it, you couldn't recall the last time you had relieved yourself in the bathroom, and you think it was beginning to show..

"H-Haitham… Gotta stop.. Need to.. pee.." Your words wobbled in embarrassment, you were sure your face was redder than a zaytun peach. The man under you halts for barely a second, nearly ignoring you, pulling your hips closer to his own. He elicits a sweet moan from you and raises his eyebrow.

"My sweetheart needs to go? Hmm? Can't possibly leave me like this.. right?" He makes a point of flexing this thick length in your cunt, pressing the fat tip into your sweet, gummy spot. The sweet kiss of his cock is too good to deny, surely you could hold out for him? Just a little longer? You whine shortly, bringing him back into a tender kiss, rolling your hips into his length. It continues for a while, tangling within each other in a hot limbo, sensitive spots squeezed and pressed in just the right way. The feelings bubbles up again, a lot harsher this time.

Gods your tummy felt full and achey, filled up with too much liquid, all those coffees and water breaks were steadily catching up to you. And quick. You whimper, slowing down your movements, finally giving your achey self a needed rest. His thick length flexes as you clench on him, hugging his cock with your gooey cunt in a pitiful attempt to hold your bladder.

"Can feel it.. Gonna pee if I don't- if I don't go~" You whine pathetically into him, steadily squeezing your gushy pussy on his length to avoid spilling and messing in Alhaitham's lap.

"Yeah? Gonna piss and make a mess all over me..? Now why would you do that huh?" Alhaitham tuts and pushes a hard, bullying thrust into you, running an achey spike right up your pussy.

"N-no~ Don't wanna make a mess.." You babble. You flex your thighs on him, squeezing him in to settle your urge to pee.

"Then you better help me cum yeah? Quicker you do that, the quicker you can go.." His brows are pitched upwards, voice light as he shakes his head with his words. His tone tethered on mockery and yet it spurred you on. You bounce on his length, taking him in long, deep presses of your sweet, milky hole.

His palms wrap around your waist, pulling you hard into his lap, pressing his cock into your cervix. His thumbs caress over your tummy, tickling at the smooth, sensitive skin. You give him a whimper, eyes glassy and doughy as you look at him. Alhaitham pouts and hums in mock sympathy, pressing his thumbs hard into your achey tummy, pushing against your sensitive bladder. You moan out wantonly, cunt squeezing his cock in an attempt to hold in your pee. Alhaitham growls, humping his hips up into your cunny, pushing his length into your wet, gummy walls.

"Can't hold it.. not gonna make it" Your pretty voice cries.

"What would Kaveh think if you pee all over the seat? Mess up his silly throw blankets huh?" His hips thrust up meanly, pushing his thumbs against your swollen bladder. Your cunny quivers, aching hard as the familiar burn of your bladder threatens to break. Alhaitham was a meany, always teasing you like this.

"No~ no! Don't wanna make him mad.." It was true, the thought of upsetting Kaveh made your lip wobble - You didn't wanna upset him, didn't wanna put another thing on his overflowing plate.

"Hold it in sweetheart.. be a good girl, hold it until I cum in your pretty pussy, 'kay..? Wanna make me happy right?" His hips grind into yours, catching your aching, stinging clit on his pelvis. You nearly cry, bucking your hips into his cock in an attempt to have him mess up your pussy quicker. His thick length is squeezed sweetly by your quivering pussy. Your bladder burns, aching and cramping in your tummy while you fight to squeeze a orgasm out of Alhaitham's fat, heavy cock.

Through your ministrations, the sweet pulse of an orgasm fires through your aching clit, forcing you to stutter your hips on his. You hump on his thick cock, chasing the sweet, creamy release of tension in your tummy. Something burns with another need for release. You cry as your bladder spasms, threatening to snap and gush over Alhaitham's lap.

Your pee squirts out in pretty little pulses, copying the sweet clench of your orgasm on Alhaitham's cock. You cry and whine, babbling pitiful little sorries as you mess all over his lap. You feel his hands squeeze, his thumbs press hard into your tummy, forcing you to piss all over his lap.

"Nawhh.. Silly little sweetie.. Couldn't hold it in? No?" Alhaitham cuts through, fucking up into your squirting cunt, relishing in the hot splash of piss that dribbles down his heavy balls. Your pee soaks into his half-on trousers, seeping into the seat below, all over the blankets and bedding placed over it. You hiccup little tears as he plows up into your sweet, gushing pussy. Your core quivers and stings, slick with arousal and your own pee.

"Makin' a mess yeah? Pissing all over me? Messing up Kaveh's stuff too..? Thought you could hold it, said so yourself… He's not gonna be happy.." Alhaitham teases, his voice drips with amusement. Your silly string of apologies continues, you even find yourself fucking back into him to prove yourself. To show just how sorry you were. Alhaitham grins and throws his head back, relishing in the soft squeeze of your spent pussy.

"Gonna make me finally cum? Couldn't even wait could you huh… Don't apologize to me.. Leave it for Kaveh.." Alhaitham growls a laugh at the hard clench of your pussy at his name. Alhaitham relishes in it, appreciating the warm mess of your piss in his lap, your sweet babbling form dumb on his cock. He comes close, twiddling with your achey clit while you try and ride him out. You squeal, a pretty squirt piddles from your wet cunt. Gods the sight of you was nearly enough. He bullies you more, forcing you to hump and squeeze and mess over his cock - all while reprimanding you for being such a silly girl.

"..'Haithem..." Your little pitiful whine is what does it. His thick cock pulses in your wet, messy pussy, spurting hot ropes of creamy cum right into your core. He groans out loud, grinding and humping into your clit with every hot pump of his cock, spilling his load right and deep into your cunny, messing you up just as you did to him. You moan and whine prettily in hip lap, clumsily humping against his half hard cock, crying out as his thick cum leaks out of your sweet pussy, joining the warm, wet mess between you.

Alhaitham pets your back, hushing you softly, assuring you that he wasn't mad, that he was just playing. He settles you down, assuring you that no one would be mad, and that you did a good job. You wriggle in his lap, huffing a giggle at the soft squelch of his trousers. You're about to clean up. Not before you hear a soft jingle of keys and the distinct click of the front door opening.

"..'M home~"

I'm sorry that my brain had the audacity to procure this - I'll see myself out 🚪🏃‍♀️💨

This is the first time I've ever really written this sort of thing - pls let me know if you enjoyed 💕

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Thank You For Reading! Comments Are Always Appreciated! Ilysm ♡

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