#what do u call a short piece of writing

[paimonial-rage]

I was thinking about this while helping my friend beta something yesterday like… I vaguely remember that at one time, I felt (punctuation) periods were too harsh. They had a sense of finality about them. They were too loud and vibrant. Commas were more comforting to use. They felt softer and not as exact. And then I look at my writing now and there's nothing I love more than a period. I love how sharp it is. I love its finality.

Like I can't understate enough how much a period makes a statement. Like that's what it's supposed to do, yes, but it's more than that. It tells the audience that what precedes is true. It's a fact. And when you yield a period properly, it emphasizes and highlights what is stated. It stands out. It's final. It has weight. It's such a powerful thing that it's addicting to use.

#thoughts #personal #writing #i should be putting this in the main post but the main post has a vibe that i don't want to interrupt #the way to properly wield a period is by varying the lengths of your sentences #a good key to remember is that long sentences are meant for providing information #*long sentences are not meant to stand out* #when you want to highlight something that is key you use a short sentence #making it short makes it clear to the audience that the statement is meant to hold weight #however it is important to keep variety in the lengths of your sentences #a short sentence after a short sentence does not stand out as much as a short sentence after a long sentence #think of it like this #if you have two short people standing next to each other they look normal #if you put a short person next to someone really tall it makes the short person look shorter than they actually are #their shortness really stands out #this is called juxtaposition #i can make a whole essay based off of the importance of juxtaposition too HAHA #periods can be loud but i highly recommend trying to learn how to use them #one of you said you like hearing my thought process when i write so i hope you find this one interesting!! #now i'm gonna speak more off the top of my head but i feel that ppl that dislike periods are very sensitive to the flow in their stories #there is a flow to a sentence when you use commas and periods tend to disrupt that flow #a period/short sentence is too abrupt and jarring #at least that's what i assume they feel #however imho i feel ppl that feel this way are overly sensitive to the flow they perceive exists in their sentences/paragraphs #i have to tell myself this constantly that things that flow seamlessly aren't always a good thing #imagine your writing like an orchestral piece. are they always flowy and legato? or are there moments where the music jumps or changes? #and what do those sudden jumps do? they wake the audience. they catch the audience's attention. they add variety and interest #imagine an orchestral piece that the tempo never changes. the volume never shifts. every note bleeds into the next #you get put to sleep! #so a period may seem abrupt in the scheme of the sentence but look at it from the view of the whole paragraph. it may be better than u thin

[dollfaceksj]

the pink pill | jjk version (m) — “3 days”

➥ banner by: @jkndigo.

➥ PAIRING: jungkook x fem!reader

➥ SUMMARY: In each of these universes, you find yourself consuming what is known as the pink pill. This pill is essentially a drug that enhances your libido to the max and you’ll quite literally never experience arousal like you do when you’ve taken this pill. Thankfully, in each universe, there’s a man that’s ready to help you explore and reach your peak of sexual euphoria.

➥ GENRE: smut ⋆ porn without plot ⋆ best friends

➥ CATEGORY: one-shot [part of the pink pill series]

➥ WARNINGS: unprotected sex (wrap it up!!!!), extremely horny!reader, missionary, cocky!jungkook, doggy style, cum-shot, creampie, crying, overstimulation, kissing, reader asks her bff jk for a favor, they’ve never had sex before(w each other), kissing w tongue, annoying friends, reader is dared into taking the pill, fingerfucking, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, slight choking, bit of spanking, praise, slight guilt for fucking best friend, jungkook’s stamina (deffo inspired by seven), minors DNI

➥ WORDCOUNT: 9.1k

a/n: aaaand the first addition to tpp series is out 🥴 this was originally going to be a short drabble for jk but i liked the concept so much that i decided to make it a one-shot + write one for every single member. so see this as my first thought for the fic (not boring imo but the most basic one? if that makes sense) anyways, hope u enjoy!

⋆ TAGLIST ⋆

⋆ MASTERLIST & CONCEPT VIDEO ⋆

“What even is that?” you ask your friend, Lee, as you reach for the pink package that she just nonchalantly tossed onto your coffee table. You’re seated on your couch as you wrap your fingers around the piece of pink carton, uncrossing your legs once you have it in your hands.

Your eyes scan the white letters around the pink cartoon cat but you still can’t make much sense of it.

“I saw someone tweet about it. Essentially, it’s like viagra for vaginas,” Lee tells you as she leans back into the couch, a cold can of coke in her hand.

You can’t help but snort in mockery as you throw it back onto the table in front of you and say, “There’s no way in hell you actually believe that thing works.”

Your other friend, Yoona, walks out of your kitchen with another can of soda in her hand. She glances at the small pink package on the table as she plops down on your couch next to you, an amused grin on her lips.

Lee shrugs her shoulders as she zaps through the comedy movies catalogue on Netflix with your remote, her eyes absentmindedly shifting to the packaged pill. “I’m not sure. It was like 10 bucks on Amazon.” Her gaze lingers on the pill, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

You roll your eyes, annoyance bubbling in your chest at the fact that your friend is dumb enough to get scammed like this. “10 bucks? They just sold you some cinnamon powder in a capsule and called it a day,” you laugh, returning your attention to the TV as you throw your feet up onto the coffee table.

“Oh, yeah? Then why don’t you take it?” Lee challenges you, pushing the pill in the pink package toward you with her foot.

Your eyes shift toward the pill. “You want me to take that pill right now?” Your eyebrow cocks up and you stare at it for a moment as if it were poison before turning your attention to her. It could very well be poison, actually.

A smirk stretches onto Yoona’s lips as she seemingly enjoys the thought of Lee challenging the most stubborn person on planet Earth. Yoona leans forwards after sipping her coke, parting her lips to say, “Yeah, since you don’t think that it works, right?”

You nonchalantly shrug your shoulders, hoping to appear unbothered. You raise your own drink to your lips and glance at your friends over the rim of your can. “I really don’t,” you say before you take a sip of your iced tea. “But Jungkook is coming over later.”

An evil look twinkles in Yoona’s eyes as your words reach her ears. “Ah, so you do think there’s a chance it works.” She’s proud of her little gotcha-moment but you make sure it’s short-lived.

She watches as you swallow too quickly, a low burp escaping your lips as you scramble to defend yourself.

“No, I literally don’t.” Why would you? Viagra is insanely expensive, to think it’s counterpart is available on Amazon for 10 bucks is insane.

“Then take it,” Lee tilts her head to the side, a shit-eating grin on her lips. “Besides… you keep saying there’s nothing going on between you and Jungkook. Why mention he’s coming over if you’re not fucking him and if you don’t think the pill works?” she adds, eyes twinkling with satisfaction as if she’s got you.

You place your can of iced tea back down on the table with a thud. “I’m not fucking Jungkook, you weirdo,” you grumble as you defiantly reach for the pill.

You and Jungkook have been best friends for years, they know that! They know how both you and Jungkook physically cringe and wince whenever someone mistakes the two of you for a couple. Now, they put the image of having sex with him in your brain and it’s weird.

(Read: Well, lately, it has been crossing your mind but it quickly gets ignored.)

You’re not dumb, you know Jungkook’s been popular for being attractive since forever but he was never really your type.

Keyword: was.

It’s not your fault, though! Jungkook has been growing out his hair and has been working out, his arm is covered in tattoos and he seems to be making good money as a freelance video editor.

“Well, if you’re not fucking him, can I? I don’t know what’s in the air but he’s been changing a lot lately. Like his beauty looks like it doesn’t even belong on Earth.” Yoona takes the final sip of her old drink after she says that, crumpling it up and slamming it down onto the table with an obnoxious exhale.

You can tell she’s saying it to get a rise out of you but you quite literally don’t care. Why would you care about who the hell your friend is fucking?

“Fuck him if you want, I literally don’t care,” you say quietly as you gather the empty cans onto the tray you brought them in. You actually can’t bring yourself to care about Jungkook’s sex life, in all honesty.

“See, you’re jealous! I bet you’re fucking.” Lee’s teaseful words and Yoona’s obnoxious giggles are starting to irritate you. Can’t they just accept the fact you’re not fucking your best friend just because he has a penis?

You glare at the both of them with a twitch in your brows, your nostrils flared and your fingers tingling with the urge to throw the empty cans of soda at them.

You make up your mind and say, “Alright, to prove to you that this stupid pink pill doesn’t fucking work and nothing is going on between Jungkook and I…” You pop the pill out of its pocket and place it on your tongue, swiftly swallowing it down with the rest of your iced tea. “Two birds, one stone.”

The room fills with obnoxious laughter and giggles as they watch you, shaking their head at your obstinance. “You’re so stubborn and so petty,” Yoona adds before taking a sip of her new coke after cracking it open.

“You really think the pussy equivalent of viagra would cost 10 bucks? Be serious,” you grumble in annoyance, throwing your feet up onto the table again and slouch further into your couch as you try to pay attention to whatever is playing on the TV.

They share a mischievous look but you can’t bring yourself to comment on it. “Okay, if you say so.” Lee brings her shoulders up in a shrug and drops the topic for now.

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About 45 minutes later as Yoona and Lee get ready to leave, Yoona nudges you with her foot. “Do you feel anything?”

“No. I don’t. I’m telling you, it’s not real,” you tell them in all honesty. You really don’t feel any different. You don’t show your relief, though.

“Bummer. I really wanted you to learn a lesson,” Lee laughs and blows you a kiss when you put up your middle finger.

You say goodbye as they walk out and you just return your attention to your TV, watching the sappy drama that Lee and Yoona are obsessed with for some reason.

After a few moments, your phone buzzes.

[7:02PM]

Jungkook

Lays or Pringles?

[7:03PM]

You

pringlessssss

[7:03PM]

Jungkook

Bet. Be there in about an hour

[7:04PM]

You

okiii

You mindlessly throw your phone somewhere on the couch beside you and rise to your feet to clean up the mess Lee and Yoona left behind.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Well, fuck.

About another 40 minutes later, you’re starting to actually regret taking that damn pill.

You can’t fucking believe this. Your nipples have been erect for 20 minutes and you’re sure you’re in need of a change of underwear.

What the hell is in that pill?

You walk into the bathroom to examine your appearance in the mirror. The air knocks out of your lungs at the sight in front of you.

Your pupils are dilated, your cheeks and nose are piping hot. Your lips are swollen and a thin layer of sweat is draped over your forehead.

Your heart has also been beating quicker than usual.

You want to hump everything in your sight. Is this what it’s like for an animal in heat? Fucking hell. You’ve never been this aroused.

Your hand slowly travels down your stomach and under the hem of your sweats. Reaching into your underwear, your fingertips are met with a disgusting amount of pure sticky substance.

If you weren’t wearing your sweatpants so low on your hips, you definitely would have soaked through the thick material of your sweats, that’s how fucking drenched you are.

What should you do? Take a quick shower? It’d be useless to shower now since the effects can last for days. You’d just continue to produce your body’s natural lubrication and you don’t have the time to be showering every hour.

Clean up and change your underwear? That sounds like it’d make the most sense but you’d go through a lot of panties in a couple days too. Maybe you should literally just wear a tampon?

Fucking hell. You should’ve never taken that fucking pill. Damn those fucking friends of yours.

Like a gag in a sitcom, just as you reach for your underwear drawer, your front door swinging open rips through your eardrums. Regret immediately seeps into your stomach for giving Jungkook your spare residence key.

“Honey, I’m home,” Jungkook jokes and the sound of him kicking off his shoes as he closes the door rings in your ears like a blaring alarm.

You want to drop onto your knees and scream until you pass the fuck out. Your eyes flicker between the drawer and your bedroom door. What should you do?

He doesn’t give you much of an option when you hear him searching for you. “Y/N? Where are you?” Jungkook’s voice rings even louder in your ears this time and you can hear him approaching your room. You internally cry out and quickly head towards your bedroom door.

You walk into the hall and watch as he stops in his tracks. He’s wearing a black beanie, grey sweatpants and a grey sweater with a plastic bag in his tattooed hand which you assume are the snacks he picked up on his way here.

Grey fucking sweats.

Jungkook has always been handsome but for fuck’s sake. Your core literally pulsates at the sight of him right now.

“Hey,” you breathe out and walk up to him, brushing past him and into the living room in a straight line.

“Hey… You okay?” His eyebrows shoot up in surprise and quickly pinch into a frown as he follows you into the living room.

You quickly nod your head, hand on your head as you try to collect your thoughts. “Yeah, I’m fine. You?” you say, trying to appear casual as you head into the kitchen to grab a can of his favorite beer.

The sound of the plastic bag full of snacks hitting your coffee table and his body plopping onto your couch doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “I’m great, work was chill.”

You place your hands on your kitchen counter and lean forwards, taking a moment to catch your breath but your breath is not steadying at all.

Your feet carry you to the living room and you carefully place the cans onto the coffee table, trying your best not to look at him in those damn sweatpants.

Jungkook has ditched the beanie and his long black locks are sprawled on the backrest of the couch as he has comfortably sunk into your sofa, hair messy and screaming to be tugged on. You have to fight every bone in your body to not climb onto his lap right now and grind into him.

Have some fucking decorum, he’s your friend. Not an object.

Your chest deflates as you softly exhale. Make your way to the couch as you carefully sit down. Hope to the Lord that you don’t soak through your clothes. You’d usually sit next to him but today you think it’d be best to sit at the other end of the couch.

He aims his frown at you but you pretend not to notice. He doesn’t comment on it, though. You crack your new can of iced tea open because there’s no way you’re putting alcohol in your system with this amount of arousal pooling inside of you.

“What movie are we watching?” he asks after a moment of silence in hopes of deterring the awkwardness as he turns his head to the TV, his thumb pressing one of the arrows on your remote, going through the catalogue of available movies.

“Uh… I don’t know. You can choose,” you mumble as you take a few more gulps to distract yourself.

He frowns at your words but keeps his eyes glued to the TV. “I chose last time. It’s your turn to choose.”

“Yeah, sorry, I just–” you start, which makes him look at you, “just put that one on.” You wave your hand toward the TV and he turns his head to look at the one he’s landed on before you return your attention to chugging your iced tea.

“We watched that one 3 weeks ago.” He sits up this time. “Are you okay? You look like you’re about to keel over,” he says, quietly. He sounds concerned and you sound fucking stupid.

You shake your head as the sparkling beverage burns your throat, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “I’m fine, I’m okay,” you mumble under your breath.

“Are you trying to convince me or you?” he asks, “And why are you sitting so far away?” he whines as he scoots closer to you, his hand reaching out to grab your waist but you shoot up out of the couch and onto your feet, avoiding his touch by a hair.

The moment he touches you, you’re going to pounce on him. No doubt in your mind.

“No, don’t,” you squeal, taking a step away from the sofa.

Now Jungkook is really fucking confused.

He quickly stands up as well, a concerned yet confused frown on his face. He probably thinks he did something wrong which makes your chest tighten with guilt. “What’s going on? Why are you acting like you’re about to have a fucking stroke?”

You breathe loudly as you pace around the living room with your hands on your head and say, “I might.”

Jungkook’s breath abruptly hitches in his throat as your concerning words ring in his ears. “Wh– Huh? What? Should I call an ambulance?”

You shake your head. “No, it’s not like that,” you mumble before you finally turn to him, dropping your hands from your head and letting your fingers pick at the loose flesh around your nails.

His eyes drop down to your anxious fidgeting before traveling back up to stare at you. “Then, what is it? You’re scaring the shit out of me right now, Y/N.”

He actually does look terrified right now, staring at you with wide eyes as his teeth absentmindedly play with his lip piercings.

You loudly exhale in exasperation and rub your forehead as you consider just telling him. “I fucked up, Jungkook, and I’m panicking,” you say, rubbing your eyes until there’s colored spots in your vision. “I never should’ve taken that fucking pill.”

You watch as his face becomes that of a cartoon character, eyes wide, brows raised to the stars, mouth twitching. “What? Pill? What pill? Are you high?”

You roll your eyes and grunt in annoyance with yourself for phrasing it like that. “No, I–” you groan loudly before cutting yourself off and heading into the kitchen. You wince as you shove your hand into the trash can, taking the ripped pink piece of carton out of the garbage. You stare at it for a while but already find yourself heading back into the living room before you overthink it and change your mind.

Jungkook is still standing in front of the couch, his big brown eyes still wide with concern and his bottom lip reddened from how much he’s been chewing on it.

You walk up to him and with a flick of your wrist, you toss it onto the table in front of him. He glances at the pink package before glancing back up at you but you’re already looking away with your arms crossed.

He slowly sinks back down and takes the ripped package into his hands to examine it. He reads the words for a few seconds but he still seems confused. “Female sexual enhancement and libido boosting? What the fuck is this?”

You groan as you drop to your knees on the floor across from him, in front of the coffee table.

“It’s like viagra for people with pussies and it’s supposed to make you horny as fuck. My friends dared me to take it because I told them it wasn’t real.”

He looks up at you through his brows, a mix of surprise and confusion still on his face. “Do you think it’s laced with something dangerous?”

“No, nothing like that but whatever the fuck they put in it is working. It’s fucking working,” you whine as you place your elbows on the coffee table in front of you with a loud thud, burying your face in your palms.

There’s a moment of silence between you two.

“So like…” he begins, trying to stifle a laugh, “you’re really horny? Right now?”

“Jungkook,” you groan, eyes shamefully looking up at him and you’re just in time to watch him clutch his arms around his stomach as he just obnoxiously laughs in your face. “Stop laughing!”

He chuckles for a little while longer before calming down. “I’m sorry, I’ve just never heard of this before. How are you feeling?” He places it back onto the table and returns the eye contact, still an annoying grin on his soft lips.

“Like I could fuck the fridge if it had a dick.”

Jungkook bursts out laughing maniacally, throwing himself back onto the couch as he exaggeratedly gasps for air.

“Jungkook! I’m panicking, stop laughing!” you whine, standing back up on your feet as heat rushes to your face, a lump of embarrassment forming in your throat.

“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckles as he wipes a tear at the corner of his eye. “You’re just so fucking stupid.”

You huff in response and glare down at him, his eyes slowly trailing up your body to meet yours and the single act of his black eyes drinking you in makes a curtain of lava drape over your already burning body.

You tap your foot against the floor impatiently. “What should I do?” You chew on your lip as you ask him the impossible question.

He simply shrugs his shoulders and leans back into the couch, hands on his upper thighs right below his hips. He’s not making this any fucking easier. “Masturbate. Or go get fucked.”

You wince, a thousand volts of electricity travelling up your vertebrae at his words. “Tonight’s our movie night, though.”

“Babe, you’re clearly not in the right headspace to be watching a movie with me.”

You internally scream at the pet name he sometimes uses when the both of you are alone. It never makes you feel anything in particular but right now, your stomach clenches at the pet name and you’re painfully reminded that it didn’t help your sticky underwear situation at all.

“Still, I don’t want to ditch you. That’s not cool,” you mutter as you take a seat on the couch, cringing as your panties stick to your core and your slick is undoubtedly smeared all over your sex and inner thighs. No matter how nonchalant he is about the situation, you’re too embarrassed to excuse yourself now to go change your damn underwear.

“So what? You’re just gonna sit next to me and squirm all evening?” he asks you, a genuine look of confusion on his face.

“Mhm.” You shrug your shoulders in hopes of appearing nonchalant and unbothered as you reach for the remote.

But you’re extremely bothered. Hot and fucking bothered.

“You can go masturbate, you know. I’m not going to act weird about it,” he tells you with a carefree air around him as he tears a bag of chips open.

His words make your pussy clench around nothing and you have to actively remind yourself to cross your arms to hide your erect nipples, despite the fact he has probably already noticed.

“I doubt masturbating will do the trick. Besides, it says the effects can last up to 72 hours. I’m not going to masturbate for 3 days.”

He breaks into a fit of giggles again, making you roll your eyes as you swing one of your legs over the other. It appears casual but really, you’re just looking for some friction.

“You’re so dumb for taking that pill.” He reminds you, as if you don’t already know that. He glances at you when a childish huff pushes past your lips.

Neither of you say anything else but the moment of silence is disturbed by the scrunching of the bag of chips in Jungkook’s hands.

You take a moment as you consider what you really want to ask him. Should you just say fuck it and ask him to fuck the shit out of you?

The idea quickly gets obliterated by your rational self and you finally choose a movie to play.

Throughout the movie, you notice Jungkook’s eyes on you every now and then. The constant crossing of your legs and arms doesn’t go unnoticed by him but he never comments on it.

You’re doing great until a sex scene starts playing on the screen. You suck in a breath as you watch intently, your fingers twitching in your lap.

The actress on the screen is crying out in – over the top – pleasure as the man pounds into her, the headboard of the bed banging against the wall exaggeratedly makes the frames that are hung up on the wall crash to the ground with a loud clatter. You know it’s all fake but that doesn’t stop the gushing in your panties.

“Y/N,” Jungkook chuckles as he motions for you to skip the scene but you don’t react to him.

You stare blankly ahead of you at the TV, sitting in silence. You can see Jungkook shaking his head at your stubbornness in the corner of your eye as he stretches his arm over your lap, reaching for the remote that’s next to your thigh. His arm is hovered over your lap, face almost pressed into your chest and his cologne is the final drop that has your head spinning.

The silence that falls around the two of you as you impulsively wrap your hand around his wrist – that’s reaching for the remote – is suffocating.

He instantly freezes, eyes glued to the remote that he had just wrapped his fingers around. He’s in an awkward position, lying on his hip and his arm stretched out over your thighs with his face mere inches away from your breasts.

You finally decide to speak up.

“Will you do me a favor?” you quietly ask him after those few moments of silence as you let go of his wrist, your eyes nervously glued to your fingers as you fidget with the laces of your sweatpants.

This time, Jungkook is quiet.

Jungkook is never quiet.

The tension is palpable and it makes you want to jump off your balcony right now. His silence is already starting to make you regret asking him.

He slowly moves back to his seat but you can’t see much else as you refuse to look away from your lap.

He finally speaks up and you’re conflicted on whether you’re relieved that he does or not. “Are you asking me what I think you’re asking of me?” His voice is lower than usual. It sends a quick shiver down your spine and awakens the goosebumps on the upper layer of your skin.

You don’t even look at him and in response, you just stay quiet, your silence confirming his speculation.

You two sit in unbearable silence for what seems like a damn eternity, the obnoxious moaning coming from the TV is not making this any easier. Jungkook seems to be in deep thought before you see him rise to his feet in your peripheral vision. You swallow thickly as he starts heading towards the entrance hall.

Shit. He’s leaving.

You don’t blame him, though. Who the fuck asks this of their best friend?

You shut your eyes tightly, holding your breath as you patiently wait for the sound of the door clicking close to hit your ears.

But it never comes.

“Are you coming or not?”

His words shoot into your eardrums like a thousand needles and it makes your heart violently jerk against your ribcage.

You crack your eyes open to see him standing in the doorway of the hall, back turned to you but his head turned over his shoulder as he stares you down with an unreadable expression clouding his face. A frown climbs its way onto your brows as you slowly get up. Your feet take you to him on their own, body magnetizing towards him as your stomach bursts with excitement and your veins are set aflame with desire.

You shyly follow him into your bedroom as if you’re the one visiting his home. “Are you sure?” you quietly ask him as you enter your bedroom after him, closing the door with a soft thud.

He slowly turns to you, head cocked to the side as his black gaze drapes over your body and makes you feel incredibly small. “You’re my friend in need of some help. Why would I not be sure?” His face is a bit expressionless and his voice sounds different than what you’re used to.

Your brows pinch together at his disregardance. “Jungkook, this isn’t a usual request. I’m not asking you to drop me off at home after work or to delete an ugly picture of me you posted on your instagram. I’m–”

“You’re asking me to fuck you. I don’t see why it has to mean anything more than what it is. Sex isn’t that big of a deal, Y/N.”

You idly blink at him, listening to his blunt words as he casually tells you he’s down to fuck you. All those years of the two of you swearing you had never crossed any lines, how you don’t see each other that way, how you’re like family and this is what it’s come to?

The doubt glimmering in your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by him, evident by the crossing of his arms over his chest and the cocking of his head to the side. “Are you sure?” he asks you this time, his voice soft and his tone neutral.

You stare at him for a couple seconds but you’ve made up your mind.

You start walking past him, heading for your bed. You tuck your fingers under the hem of your sweats and wiggle them off your hips as you turn around to face him again, stepping out of the sweats pooling at your ankles. You take a seat on the edge of your bed and kick your sweats away, all whilst looking up at him through your pretty lashes.

You notice that his own breath is getting heavier. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he watches you slowly lean back on your hands, bending your legs at the knees and propping your feet up onto the edge of the mattress as you spread your thighs wide apart, allowing him to witness your extreme arousal firsthand.

Jungkook’s eyes drop down to what’s between your legs, the massive wet patch of slick on your panties and your inner thighs lathered in your stickiness make his eyebrows twitch.

“Is that pill giving you a major confidence boost too?” he mumbles as he walks up to you, referring to how you’re usually on the shy and modest side. He tugs his sweatshirt off and throws it somewhere on your floor.

“I don’t give a fuck about what it’s given me, I need you to fuck me like you’ve never fucked anyone before. Right now,” you say with a hiss to your tone as you ditch your t-shirt, leaving you in your sheer tank top and no bra.

Your erect nipples haven’t gone unnoticed by him and your words make him grunt in response. You watch as he starts palming himself through his sweatpants, body now towering over you as he stares down at you.

You’ve seen Jungkook shirtless before, when he’s working out or playing some random sport with his friends that you agreed to cheer him on for from the sidelines. Even when he stays over or you stay over at his. So, his physique shouldn’t be surprising to you and it isn’t, but the sight of his bare torso right now drives you up the fucking wall.

He reaches for the hem of your panties, making you close your thighs as he yanks them down your legs. The massive string of slick still connected to your underwear makes him swear loudly, your panties aggressively tossed to the floor by him.

“I can’t believe how wet it’s made you,” he grunts as he places his hands on your knees and gently spreads your thighs again, eyes glued to your sticky pussy. “I’m pretty confident I’ve satisfied all the people I’ve had sex with but I’ve never seen anything like this. You’re fucking dripping.”

And you are. You can hear the splatter of a droplet hitting your floor and the embarrassment drives you absolutely insane.

You notice his hand tightening around his boner. “Fuck, I want to taste.”

You can tell he wants to touch, lick, taste you but you’ve already made it clear that you need him to fuck you right this instant.

“Jungkook, I’ll literally die if you don’t fuck me right now.” You lean back onto your elbows, eyes still staring up at him as he slowly starts tugging his sweatpants down his legs. Soon he ditches the Calvin Klein boxers too, allowing his erection to spring free.

Your eyes drop down to the dick in his hand, hard as a rock as he spits in his hand and strokes himself whilst eyeing you. His dick is red at the tip but darkens at the shaft, it’s not massive but it’s not small either. It’s just the right size. The sight alone could have you squirting hands-free.

You need to be sedated.

“I don’t have any protection on me,” he begins, “Are you–”

You cut him off. “I’m clean. Are you?”

You know Jungkook is incredibly responsible when it comes to his sex life but you still make it a thing to ask.

“Yeah,” he breathes out. Upper teeth sunken into his bottom lip. Strokes his own dick.

“Good, ‘cause I need to feel everything,” you grunt as you reach for your clit. You drag your fingers up your wet slit and pull your fingers away from your pussy to show him the thick string of your slick that stays connected from your pussy to your fingers. The string doesn’t break even though you’ve stretched it out a few inches.

It’s your way of telling him you don’t need any prep because you are disgustingly drenched.

“Fuck,” he mumbles under his breath, running a hand through his hair. He takes a few moments to collect himself before he positions himself at your sex. He rubs the head of his dick up and down your slit, gathering your slick onto his tip with a hiss escaping his mouth. “Birth control?”

Your legs violently jerk at the sensation of the head of his dick rubbing up and down your slit. You could cum right now. “Yeah.” Your reply leaves your lips in a pornographic moan and you can’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed about it.

He positions his dick at your hole with one hand whilst the other supports your leg by the back of your knee. “Ready?”

“For fuck’s sake, just put it in already. I feel like I’ll come undone any second,” you whimper, your chest rising and falling dramatically as you pant.

A deep chuckle rumbles in his chest, looking up into your eyes for the first time since you showed him your wet pussy. He slowly starts pushing into you, his eyes watching your face as your mouth falls open and your eyebrows scrunch together at the intrusion.

A whiny groan leaves his throat as your walls wrap around him. “Holy shit. You’re so fucking tight. So fucking wet,” he mumbles more to himself as he starts pushing further in, the sweet moans spilling from your lips raising goosebumps on his arms as you clench around him, threatening to milk him of everything he’s worth.

He leans forward and hovers over you, wedging himself in between your legs as he keeps pushing into you. His hands are flat against the mattress on each side of your waist, the back of your knees bent at his forearms, around his elbows. You’re spread so wide that the sound of your soaking pussy is, at times, louder than the slapping of his skin against yours.

You cry out at the pleasure, it’s like your sensitivity has been cranked up to a hundred. Your senses are sent into overdrive, the tiniest friction has your head spinning because nothing compares to how you’re feeling right now.

You open your eyes to the most beautiful sight you’ve ever seen, Jungkook on top of you with his bottom lip trapped between his teeth, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes closed. He’s gorgeous.

Tears prick in your eyes at the pleasure, the head of his dick rubbing against your walls so good has you seeing stars. You can feel every single ridge, vein, nook and cranny of his dick as he fucks into you. Your walls tighten around him so well, your slick already making a sticky mess against his sex and your bum.

As if he sensed you looking at him, his eyes crack open and stare down at yours. His gaze drops down to your lips and before you know it, he has his lips pressed to yours. You’re surprised at first but your lips quickly work back, a moan escaping your throat which allows him to lick into your mouth.

After several minutes of making out and fucking, Jungkook pulls back to catch his breath. “Sorry about that but you feel– you feel so fucking good,” he grunts as he leans back again, turning you onto your side and lifting your leg as he continues to fuck into you.

You yelp at the switch of position, your fingers tightly wrapping around the sheets under your waist, watching as your leg slightly jerks against his chest but he restrains your thigh as he holds onto it tightly.

The familiar clench in your stomach takes you by surprise. Already?

“I’m gonna fucking cum. I’m gonna–” You have never orgasmed this fast and definitely not from solely penetration before but this pill is working wonders.

Jungkook nods his head in understanding as he kisses your calf that’s up on his shoulder. “Cum on my dick, babe,” he says with a moan before he tilts his head back in bliss.

Fuck him for using that pet name.

“Oh, fuck. Oh, my God. I’m gonna…” you cry out as your orgasm drops onto you like a pile of fucking bricks, a million volts of electricity frying your brains and making your heart beat a thousand miles a minute.

You’re grateful that Jungkook keeps fucking you because your orgasm has never lasted this long before. Your legs are shaking, your hands are bunching up the sheets around you and your throat burns from the cries you’ve let out.

The continuous clenching of your pussy during your orgasm has pushed Jungkook to the edge as well, his brows furrowed in concentration.

His own orgasm approaches him as his thrusts get a little rougher, your breasts bouncing from the momentum of his hips slamming into yours.

Not long after you, he pulls out in one swift motion. It seems like he pulled out right on time because ropes of his warm cum instantly land all over your sex and stomach the moment he pulls out.

He reaches for his dick and pumps himself to milk himself of every drop, bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he watches himself cum all over his best friend.

His hand comes to a halt and he collapses on top of you, face buried in the crook of your neck as he tries to catch his breath.

After a few moments of silence and no movement other than the heavy breathing, you say, “Jungkook…”

He pauses for a moment and then says, “Give me a few minutes, I’ll be ready for round two in a bit.” His voice is quiet and muffled from being buried in the crook of your neck.

“Round two?” you ask him, a scrunch on your brows as you frown at the ceiling.

He slowly lifts his head, his eyes searching yours. “Yeah, you don’t wanna go for round two?” he asks, his voice is neutral as if he’s asking you about the weather. Doesn’t he realize he just fucked you? He’s talking to you with the sweetest look in his eyes as if he didn’t just give you most mind-blowing orgasm of your life.

“Well… Yeah. But I don’t expect you to,” you quietly say, blinking up at him with doe eyes.

“Nonsense,” he grumbles as he finally pushes himself off of you, his softening dick retreating from you. He glances down at your chest and looks back up at you. “Can I take this off?” he asks, gently tugging at your tank top.

Without another word, you reach for the hem of your tank top and pull it over your head. He quietly apologizes as he takes it from you and uses it to wipe your body clean before tossing it aside. He knows you’re too fucked out to scold him for it.

Jungkook’s eyes immediately drop down to your breasts, his big brown eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. His hands reach up but freeze right above your breasts, eyes glancing up to read your expression and see if it’s okay to touch them.

Your eyes flicker with desperation. “Please,” you breathe out, encouraging him to go ahead.

He brings his hand up to his mouth and licks at his thumb, bringing it down to toy with your erect nipple. “Wow,” he whispers, closing in on your other breast with his mouth as he gently licks and sucks on your nipple.

Your moans sound pathetic, hips involuntarily thrusting up into his. It makes him chuckle like the cocky asshole that he is, his hand gently pressing against your stomach to push your hips down. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone this horny,” he states as he rolls off of you and props himself up next to you, leaning on his elbow to support his own weight.

His hand slowly trails from your breast down to your stomach and you’re already spreading your thighs further apart for him which makes him chuckle again. The tips of his middle and ring finger find your clit, the direct contact to the most sensitive area in your body sends a shiver down your legs.

Small circles are being rubbed onto your clit by his soft fingers and after a few moments, his eyes shift down to his fingers as he pulls them away from your pussy. “Look,” he says in a deep exhale.

You glance down at his hand like he’s asking you to. He’s showing you the string of slick that’s connected to his fingers and if you weren’t high off arousal right now, you’d be extremely embarrassed at how wet you are.

His fingers dive back in, sliding in between your folds and massaging all around before he plunges his fingers into you. This makes you thrust your hips straight up into his hand, a pornographic moan spilling from your lips.

“You’re so needy,” he chuckles, pushing you down as he starts furiously fucking his fingers into you, curling them repeatedly to assault your g-spot.

You yelp at the torture on your sweet spot. “Shut the fuck up,” you grunt, your reaction to his teaseful words makes him chuckle.

He presses his soft lips into the side of your neck as he continues his abuse on your pussy, not commenting on the way your legs jolt and jerk with every curl of his fingers but forcefully restraining you from writhing with his own body.

“Jungkook, I’m gonna–”

“Already?” he teases you, twisting his body so half of it is now hovering over you. You turn to look at him as you sob, the squishing sounds your pussy makes are loud enough to finally embarrass you. His face is hovering right over yours as his hands slam into your sex. Your hands reach up to the back of his head, pulling him down to press your lips into his so you can avoid his piercing gaze.

He wastes no time kissing you back, his hand picking up its insanity-inducing pace. White spots cover your eyelids as a strange sensation washes over you. It’s not an orgasm, you don’t recall ever feeling this before. You cry into his mouth and it takes you a second to realize you’re squirting all over your bed.

“Fuuuck,” Jungkook grunts into your mouth, the pace of his hand never faltering as it continues to slam into your sex. Tears stream down your face as your second orgasm quickly approaches you right after your squirt session, your legs continuously jerking and squirming under him.

“Jungkook–!” you sob as your hips involuntarily recoil against the mattress, your orgasm finally hitting you directly after your squirt session. Your hips running away from Jungkook’s hand doesn’t mean anything to him. He just keeps fucking his fingers into you. Lips still pressed to yours as he swallows your pleading cries.

He hums against your mouth, lips wrapping around your tongue as he gently sucks on it. You aggressively squirm under him, your hands weakly pressed up against his shoulders and chest in an attempt to push him off. He finally gets the memo and retreats his fingers.

He can’t help himself as he pulls away from your lips, bringing his sticky fingers to his mouth and sucking them clean, humming in delight at the taste of his best friend.

He pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a pop and sits up, looking down at the mess you created. “Damn. I didn’t know you could do all that,” he mumbles before running his hand back up your disgustingly wet slit, holding you down with his other hand to keep you from squirming.

You can’t even answer, you’re completely fucked out under him, trying to catch your breath.

“You’re not giving up on me, are you?” he quips, using his sticky hand to pump his growing erection.

Your eyes drop down to his hand, swallowing hard as you eye his dick. “Get on all fours, come on,” he says as he slaps your thigh, getting on his knees on your mattress in front of you.

“Give me a second, you freak,” you mumble as you prop yourself up on your elbows. You shake your head in an attempt to gather your thoughts but it doesn’t do much.

You finally turn over and lazily get onto your hands and knees, arms shaking and you try your best to ignore your slick trickling down the back of your thighs.

His hand comes down to knead your asscheek, a low grunt leaving his throat. “If there’s one thing I’ve fantasized about when it comes to you, it’s your ass,” he mutters under his breath, both his hands now kneading the soft skin of your bum.

“You’ve fantasized about me?” you ask him, glancing over your shoulder to look back at him.

His eyes glance into yours before they return to your perky ass in front of him, one hand stopping the kneading of your cheek to pump his dick and position it at your sex.

“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t,” he starts, “but it was only a handful of times and it was way back when we first met, no worries,” he adds, rubbing the tip of his dick up your slit. “I take our friendship seriously.”

It knocks a moan out of you and your arms already give out, your face colliding with the mattress under you. How seriously did you both take this friendship if you’re rubbing your genitals together right now?

“Have you fantasized about me?” he quietly asks you, a quiet hiss leaving his lips as he continues to rub his tip up and down your wetness.

You sniff, silently thinking about your answer for a moment before sighing and saying, “Maybe once a year.”

A soft chuckle escapes his lips at your response and he shakes his head. He doesn’t reply and instead pushes into you, groaning at the stretch again. “I literally just fucked you, how are you still so–” he groans loudly as he bottoms out. He throws his head back as he starts fucking into you but quickly tilts it back down to watch the skin of your asscheeks recoil against his hips.

Your pathetic wimpers make him reach around your hip, gently rubbing your clit as he starts thrusting into you. You cry out at the overstimulation, stretching your arm out behind you to push into his lower stomach in an attempt to push him off but there’s absolutely no strength behind the push because you don’t want him to stop.

“You sound so fucking pretty like this,” he grunts, fingers continuing to rub circles on your overstimulated clit and he pays absolutely no mind to your hand pressing into his lower abdomen. “Tell me how I’m making you feel.”

With another sob into your pillow, you shake your head at his request. He can’t possibly expect you to form a coherent sentence, right?

That’s until you feel a sharp sting spread through your asscheek, your ass recoiling from the spanking he just gave you. You gasp and lazily turn your face to look over your shoulder at him as you shout, “Jeon Jungkook!”

He leans over, his chest pressed into your back and his lips pressed against your ear. “Tell me,” he whispers as he pushes you forward, watching you fall flat onto your stomach, face pressed into the pillows. You’re now fully lying face down on the mattress.

Just as you turn to look over your shoulder at him, he has entered you again. The fact that you’re lying face down with your legs together makes him curse as he struggles to enter you all the way but he does, the feeling of being wrapped all around him has you seeing stars.

He places his hands on each side of your elbows as you prop yourself up on them, his lips pressed to the shell of your ear and his chest pressed into your back as he starts thrusting into you again.

“Jungkook,” you moan as you turn your face slightly, eyes staring up at him. His face is so close to yours, eyes glued to the mattress underneath you.

“Tell me how it feels, baby.”

Fuck. Why would he call you that?

Your mouth is agape and your eyebrows are furrowed as Jungkook keeps fucking into you from behind, his eyes finally shifting to yours. His proximity and intense eyes make you finally comply as you say, “It– It feels so fucking good.”

His black eyes penetrate yours and you can’t tear your eyes away from his. “You look so fucking pretty like this, Y/N, holy shit. I just wanna–” he grunts as he cuts himself off, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder as he keeps fucking into your tightness.

“You just wanna what?” you say, a soft whimper following your words as you encourage him to finish his sentence.

“Destroy you.”

A cry spills from your lips the moment he says that, the pace in which he’s thrusting picks up and it’s getting rougher with each passing second. At this point you’re almost getting hatefucked and you can’t help but love every second of it.

“I hope that’s a promise,” you manage to reply.

“Oh yeah?” His hand wraps around your throat from the back, making you lift your head up, the back of your head colliding with his shoulder. Your temple is pressed against his jaw as he gently squeezes your throat.

The sinful sounds such as his skin slapping against yours, the squelshing of your wet pussy and the moans spilling from your lips are the only things you can hear and want to hear at this moment.

Jungkook’s lips and nose graze the shell of your ear, quiet moans leaving his mouth and you can only describe it as liquid gold being ladled into your ear by angels.

“Fuck, come ride me.” He doesn’t even wait for a response as he slides right out of you, lets go of your throat and drops his body next to yours before rolling onto his back. His strong arms reach for you and yank you up by your arm and waist, pulling you toward him.

A surprised yelp leaves you as you’re forced to climb onto him, every single time your clit grazes his skin has you biting back a pathetic sob. You guide his dick toward your sex and without hesitation, you sink right down onto his sex.

He grunts at the way you tightly wrap around him, hands reaching for your hips. You start bouncing on him, thighs and ass slapping into his hips which makes him moan your name softly.

You throw your head back in pure bliss and place your hands on his thighs, allowing yourself to lean back on them and support your weight as you fuck yourself on his dick.

“Holy shit,” he mumbles as he watches your every movement, eyes scanning the way your face twists in pleasure, the way your breasts bounce, the way your stomach jiggles, the way pretty moans continuously fall from your lips.

He brings his fingers to your sex and rubs that pattern that you like directly onto your clit. He watches as your body starts jerking and your legs start trembling with a shit-eating grin.

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna–”

He cuts you off. “I know, pretty. Cum all over me,” he says as he continues to stimulate your already overstimulated clit.

You want to keep riding, you really, really want to but you can’t. Your body collapses right on top of his torso, breathless and a mess. He jumps right into action as he holds onto your forearms and pins them into your lower back, holding you tightly against his chest as he thrusts up into you.

Your face is buried in the pillow right next to his head, your cries probably deafening him as he fucks you toward your 3rd orgasm of the hour. Your body is moving like jelly at this point and you can’t contain your sobs as your body continues to tremble like a leaf in the wind.

Your 3rd orgasm hits you like a fucking train and you can’t even move, you keep crying in Jungkook’s hold as he mercilessly pounds his hips up into you.

Fireworks explode on the back of your eyelids, electricity fries your brain into a pile of mush and your body is set alight, all your nerve endings bursting with magma.

When you’ve ridden out your orgasm, a surprised whimper rips through your throat when you’re suddenly flipped, thrown onto your back against your mattress and your legs pushed back towards your torso.

He climbs onto you and slides right back in, ignoring your cries of overstimulation as he harshly fucks into you, his hands placed against the mattress right next to your ribs on each side of your body.

You weakly crack your eyes open to glance up at him, your gaze shifting all over his face. The layer of sweat covering his forehead and nose, his bottom lip trapped in between his bunny teeth, his eyes staring deep into your fucking soul.

“Where… Where do you want me to cum?” he breathily asks, his hips aggressively recoiling against yours as his own orgasm approaches him rapidly.

“Fill me up until you pass out, Jungkook.” Your voice is hoarse at this point, cracking at the end of your sentence. He knows it’s nothing more than a figure of speech but it’s got his hips stuttering for a moment.

“Fuck, you’re so…” He can’t even finish his sentence as he’s finally releasing his load, shooting ropes of his cum straight into his best friend.

“Fuck,” he curses continuously as his thrusts get inconsistent. His head drops onto your shoulder, eyes squeezed shut as he moans softly with each sloppy thrust, the disgusting squelching of his cum being fucked into you rings louder than any alarm. After his climax has washed away, he finally collapses on top of you, face nuzzled in the crook of your neck.

You stay like that, staring up at the ceiling as tears roll down the sides of your face from the pleasure, overstimulation and sensitivity still pulsating in your veins.

After a few more moments, Jungkook quietly rolls off of you and tries to catch his breath.

You wipe your cheeks with the back of your hands and exhale deeply before whispering his name.

He opens his eyes and turns his head to you, humming softly in response.

“Thank you,” is all you can say.

He shakes his head and props himself up on his elbows as he glances at you. “Don’t thank me just yet. You said it can last up to 3 days, right?”

Your brows pinch together and your stomach bursts into flames. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I’m not done with you yet.”

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

⋆ MASTERLIST & CONCEPT VIDEO ⋆

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

— enjoyed it? you can always show your appreciation by buying me some coffee if you want ☕︎♡

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#jungkook #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook oneshot #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook fics #jeon jungkook au #jeon jungkook aus #jungkook fic #jungkook fics #jungkook au #jungkook aus #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook one shot #bts #bts fics #bts fanfic #dollfaceksj #the pink pill jjk #the pink pill series #bts fanfiction #minors dni

[circeyoru]

Hello you beautiful and amazeing writer!! I'm here to make a request that is more on the funny side (btw, I love ur stories. Unwanted soul being one of my favorites, lol)

That cursed cat Alastor is EVERYWERE!! And u know what? I give in... Could you write something funny where yan!Alastor is jelous of the cat? Like, he would be like:

"Me or the cat!?" And reader, with no hesetation, "The cat *takes cursed cat Alastor and leaves*". Then someome comes in "Damm, they didn't even think about it" (please tell me someome gets the reference😭)

That cat can have my fricking soul, I love it so much and it makes me laugh so bad udgdihdudhe. ANYWAYS!! Hope u have a good day/night!!! Heudhsudhjdgdhs

Go to MASTERLIST for the works. This ask is for {Unwanted Souls}.

Hi hi! Thanks for your love!! I agree that cursed cat Alastor is everywhere. More request and ask on him in my inbox!!

Okay, here is short part on Cursed Cat Alastor VS Yandere!Alastor. For easy distinction, I'm calling the cat Bambi.

Alastor's eyes twitched as he glared at the lookalike in your arms; that was his place when he came to you after working so hard for the little interest project you sent him to. The creature, Bambi as you named it, narrowed its eyes as it felt Alastor's death glare towards it, its smile widened as it felt the jealous aura radiating off of the demon.

"Darling, can't we have a meal without that inferno creature in your arms?" Alastor tried to ignore the thing and his ever-growing jealousy. Meal time was a time when you weren't absorbed into your artistic worlds, now your attention was on that damn cat! That looked like him! Smiles and all!

"Then where do I put it?" You continued to eat, ignoring how Bambi clawed some of the smaller pieces of meat to eat from your plate.

"Out the window." Alastor passed more meat onto your plate when he saw Bambi taking yours and you didn't react to it. "And on the streets of Hell where it belongs."

You chuckled, eating up the slice that Alastor passed to you first, "That's too mean, Alastor. I won't have the heart to do it because it looks and acts so much like you!"

Alastor's radio glitched and scratched, his eye twitching, "Me or the cat!?"

"The cat." You spoke and picked it up, ignoring Alastor's shock look and left the dining room.

Vaggie shifted to the side, as did Charlie, to let you passby. They looked over to Alastor, who was still sitting there, shocked and frozen. Angel poked his head in, taunting, "Woah, harsh. Your 'darling' didn't even hesitate."

Angel was immediately thrown somewhere by Alastor's tendril, making Vaggie rush to check up on him. Charlie came over and comforted him, "You know, we're having a fun movie night later, maybe you can—"

"Ha ha ha! Never will I watch those noise picture box!" Alastor declined quickly slapping off the hand she was going to put on his shoulder. "If you'll excuse me."

"Where you going?" You questioned as you re-entered the dining room.

Alastor double-checked to see if he was mistaken. His lips moved before his mind fully processed it, "Where's the cat?"

You took your plate and utensils, then went over to Alastor's side, nudging him to sit back down with your elbow before placing it down next to his. He pulled out the chair and pushed it in while you sat, then he too sat down. His eyes staring at the empty spot that would always have that creature and his ears listening to your honey words. "I left Bambi with Husk to take care while we have our meal. What? Now you want Bambi back?"

Alastor's mood brightened, "Of course not, My Love!" He took your hand and kissed it, "Let me cherish you without any distractions."

You giggled, using your free hand to pick up a piece of meat and feed it to Alastor, who ate it happily. "Right..."

"Oh, now it's even more delicious!" Alastor's eyes drooped as he smiled at you, "You should do this more often, Love."

BONUS:

Husk stares at the cat on his bar table; it growled at him with its fur all bristled like a porcupine. Husk inched away slowly to create distance from the creature that you gave him to take care in your absence. Angel came in, laughing out, "Oh! So you were the one! Ha! AHHHHH!!!!!"

Bambi pounced at Angel, biting at him with every opportunity given. Husk yelped and immediately came to help, "Uh, good cursed kitten?"

Angel screamed, "GET THIS THING OFF ME!"

Back in the dining room, you hummed as you cut another piece of meat and feed it to Alastor. He grinned darkly at the screams he heard, "My Dear, you're quite cruel."

You smirked back, "Well, Angel was being a loudmouth."

#Circe's Nighty Writings #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #alastor x y/n #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor headcanons #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #hazbin hotel oneshots #yandere alastor #yandere alastor x reader #yandere hazbin hotel #alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel imagines #Unwanted Soul #cursed cat alastor

[hysteria-things]

can u do like a chris or matt smut based on wet dreamz by j cole?? 🙏🙏

WET DREAMZ

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: virgin!matt x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: matt never takes his eyes off of you in math class. passing notes is normal for you guys, until one note changes everything.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUTTY, swearing

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,108

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i didn’t mean for this to take so long doing the notes part took a toll on me for no reason😭

matt never liked school, especially math class. he was never good at math and flunked it almost every year.

the only thing good in math class is you, his table partner. he fell head over heels the first he laid eyes on you at the beginning of the year.

the way you always looked nice, smelled good, never had a bad day… he thrived off of it.

he would think you guys became friends, being that you’ll always talk and make jokes instead of doing your work; which you guys always got in trouble for. that’s when the notes began.

on this particular day, you were wearing a shirt that had him gawking, and a skirt that hugged your hips and revealed your thighs made him crazy.

as you smiled and laughed at something he said, he couldn’t help but daydream about you and him. the way you’ll look riding him, your tits bouncing in his face. the way you’ll look at him as you suck him off until he can’t take it.

his pants started to tighten, and his eyes grew wide. the teacher was making students come up to the board to show their work on equations, and he was begging to not to be called up.

you tilt your head at the boy whose cheeks are red, biting your lip while you watch him. you rip off a piece of notebook paper, uncap a black pen, and write something down.

he admired how the cap was between your teeth before you slid the paper to him.

he pauses, staring at the note. he glances at you, who’s tilting their head and biting their lip, patiently waiting for an answer.

he opens a blue pen.

what he wrote is a lie, but if he told you the truth he’ll feel humiliated. he hates being an eighteen-year-old virgin. he feels like a loser, despite being one of the most popular kids at this damn school.

you giggle, a sound that he can never get tired of. you write underneath his message, sliding it back to him.

fuck. he thinks.

his palms start to sweat, gripping hard on his pen so hard that his knuckles turn white. his heart pounds in his chest, the tent in his pants continuing to grow.

matt sighs, scribbling on the piece of paper as if he’s not thinking about you naked on your bed right now.

the food he had for lunch churns in his stomach, wanting saturday to never come.

he knew he’d regret writing those, acting all big and bad as if he’d done this before.

taking a deep breath, matt rings the doorbell, the sound echoing throughout your house. he waits patiently for a few seconds before the door opens.

you’re there, dressed in short shorts and a bra, grinning widely at the boy. he looks you up and down, his dick twitching at the beauty in front of him.

“hi!” you beam, grabbing his hand and leading him inside. “let’s go to my room.”

the walk up the stairs seems long, and matt’s nerves get worse the closer you guys get. he watched porn videos like he was studying for a test, trying to figure out how the hell this works. he knew it would be useless since most porns are bogus.

once you guys get to the room, you push him onto the bed. you unbuckle his pants and pull down, palming him through his boxers.

he groans, praying to not cum already when he feels his dick throbbing painfully under your touch. the way your hand feels rubbing all over him doesn’t help either.

then, you flip your bodies to where he’s on top. you don’t break eye contact as you take off your bra, the way your tits recoil once their free makes matt’s mouth agape.

he pulls off his shirt, throwing it to where your bra is. you nibble at the inside of your mouth when he starts to take off your shorts, though he was hesitant at first.

his breath hitches when he realizes you don’t have underwear on. trying to stop his hands shaking, he pulls down his final piece of clothing. you stare in shock, underestimating how big he is.

he unwraps the condom he was holding and puts it on; at least he thinks. he honestly doesn’t remember how it goes.

exhaling, he aligns himself before you flinch and grabs onto it. “wait.” you say, and he stops. you swallow when his eyes meet your face. “i’ve never done this before.”

it’s like a weight got lifted off of matt’s chest, his nerves suddenly going away.

he smiles. “it’s okay. i’ll take care of you.”

you let go of his dick, and he slowly enters into your tight hole.

matt gains some confidence since you still don’t know he’s a virgin, and starts to move his hips softly. you take a few deep breaths as the pain eases, licking your lips at the fact you’re losing your virginity to the kid you’ve been crushing on all this time.

he moves his hips faster, waiting to see if you’ll protest, but you don’t. you moan louder instead, arching your back. his arms wrap under your armpits so he can grip your shoulders and push in deeper. “matt!” you moan in pleasure. “sh-shit.”

he grunts, sighing with relief that he didn’t fuck this up as he gets the hang of it.

“fa— ah!” he knows what you’re asking for so he doesn’t let you finish once he starts to rut his pelvis even faster into your pussy.

your toes curl, whimpering each time he thrusts deep into you.

your noisy, and you being noisy lets him know how good he’s making you feel. his eyes shut, reaching down to rub your clit for an extra sensation.

eventually, he hits just the right spot that has you moaning like a mantra and clenching hard around his cock.

eyes dazed, you roll them back before you squeal out. “matt— i’m cumming! i’m cu— f-fuck.”

he’s balls deep at this point, his sounds leaving his mouth to the feeling of his cock grazing your walls so swimmingly.

tumbling vowels fall from your lips while you squeeze around him one last time before pooling around him.

“oh my god, y/n,” he whines, his thrusts stuttering before spilling into the condom.

he pulls out, your whole body quivering. he disposes of the condom, and then wiping your watery eyes. he lays next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and nuzzling his face in your neck. “thank you so much, matt.”

“no.” he chuckles. “thank you.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @saturncanyon @elliesturniolo1

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo smut #✎ ⤾ haleigh’s requests!

[rubywithecat]

—— Being poccessive ——

Hello! It’s been a while since I write but I am always active here, reading other writers’<3 I am like having a really important academic year which is gonna end in next three months finally! But as I just get to watch new season of jjk I’m like wanting to write so much once again. I hope u guys will enjoy this as well <3 Thanks loves ily^^

T/W: Minors do not interact. Mature content included.

Gojo Satoru: (Jealous type)

He’s always jealous when someone has given u unnecessary attention. Even tho you are talking to your classmate long enough, if it’s a guy, Gojo would act so jelaous about it. He would give silent treatment and is the type to drive his car in speed when he’s mad at you. You would just grab the handle tightly and beg him to speed down. At home, he would be aggressive with you when he’s jealous. He would pushed you to bed and tears your clothes down and kiss you, leaving bite marks all over your neck where it’s seen. And he would fck you (don’t expect to me gentle;) and cum inside you. “Say that you’re mine” he would kiss your lips till it sore to make others realize that you are his only.

Megumi Fushiguro (I don’t care but I actually do care type)

He won’t get jealous in small cases. But if someone show interest in you noticeably, he will give a death glare to them. He would grab your waist tightly, holding you closer. You would tease him if he’s jealous and he would just deny it, feeling embarrassed. If you give him a little kiss on his cheek, he will blush and can’t help but smile. After he made other guy excuse himself, he would hold your hand tightly and walk togther, making everyone knows that you are his and proud about that. He wouldn’t also hesitate to do a huge make out session once u are alone with him, having your lip stains on his cheeks.

Toji Fushiguro (Obey me type)

He wouldn’t straightforward say that but he would look at you with resting face. It’s so scary so u would excuse urself and go to him. “What’s wrong babe” you asked him, giving puppy eyes. He looks down and frowned. He grabs your hips with his big hands and squeezes it, making u a small “ahh” He smirked and whispered. “Tell them that only I can make u feel this good, brat” He would continue to tease u by touching ur sensitive spots and make u moan helplessly. When ur begging so much, he would say like “if you behave next time, I will give what u want. Ok?” U nodded cuz u can’t speak as his hands are chocking ur neck already as he fingers you and then he would take u to somewhere more private, likely to his car and fcks u right there and makes u can’t speak other than his name.

Sukuna Ryomen (You’re dead type)

U are realy dead if he sees u being friendly to a guy he doesn’t have good feeling about with. He would pull your hand and dragged u with him without saying anything. And he would pushed u to the bed when u arrive him and he would start to tease u and turn u on. When u think he’s gonna fck u, and ur waiting for it, being ready. He would laugh and put his clothes on. “Look at u being so needy Awwn” he would say in mocking voice. “Too bad I don’t have a mood right now” he would leave u hanging. Later enough torturing u, not giving what u want, he would make u phone the guy who’s previously flirting with u and make u talk with him about unfinished work interrupted by him earlier and he would fck u aggressively behind, making them hear sounds on purpose. After finishing, he would grab your phone and take the call himself and tell the guy like “I’m sorry kid but only I can fck her like this so don’t ever even fantasize her in ur dream or else I would slice u in pieces. Do u understand?” He then ended the call and tell u like “next round?”, smirking.

—

(Likes and shares would be really appreciated <3 Feel free to share ur thoughts and request are also open now) Thanks<33 Sry if it’s short! I will make up for it later <33

—

#gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo satoru #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #toji fushiguro #toji smut #toji x reader #toji x y/n #toji fushiguro smut #megumi x y/n #megumi fushiguro #megumi smut #jjk headcanons #jjk x y/n #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu kaisen

[whore4abby]

heyyyy vannyyyyyy i love u sm i promise i'm not being a lurker

what abt model reader and abby at like a designers party (yk the devil wears prada 👀)

i'm too obsessed with everything u write is there like a support group or something for whore4abby addicts

ferny fern ur brain !! this idea is so yummy 😵‍💫 i love u MORE !! thank u for this hope u don’t mind me switching it up a lil mwah mwah !! NO ONE would join that damn support group bffr wrote this at 3am let’s not talk abt it

high fashion;

kinda a part two of this !!

warnings; smut - sex in a public bathroom, strap-on usage (r!receiving), choking (with abby’s tie), mdni

wc; 1.7k

“abs…c’mon, baby…we gotta leave in a few minutes.” you call out to your wife who’s spent the last 30 minutes making sure she looks absolutely perfect, not one hair out of place in her braid, making sure her new tux was absolutely spotless.

“i’m coming, doll…gimme a minute.” she calls out softly and you laugh and roll your eyes playfully at her antics. the ongoing joke that she spends way more time getting ready than you do slowly but surely starting to become a reality.

you smooth out the fabric of your almost sheer, black satin dress and slip on your jimmy choo heels, grabbing your purse from the dresser before looking up just as abby walks out from the bathroom. you swear you feel your eyes turn into little heart shapes as you see her.

she looks nothing short of absolutely perfect in her sleek, tailored black tux paired with her shiny black dress shoes, her muscular forearms filling out the sleeves of her suit jacket and her long hair slicked back from her face. you're absolutely smitten as you rush over to press your lips against hers repeatedly, “god, you’re so pretty…” you sigh, words coming out as a breathless whisper as you press your face against her chest, closing your eyes and breathing in her familiar scent.

before you know it you’re gathered in a spacious studio for a small, intimate gathering of some couture designers to showcase their new up-coming works. you’re surrounded by mannequins displaying gorgeous designer clothes, along with an assortment of clothes scattered around the room, from elegant ballgowns to sophisticated suit jackets.

the windows are covered in velvet drapes, allowing a small amount of natural moonlight to flood the room. everyone whispering discreetly amongst themselves, scanning the surroundings and taking in all the lavish clothing and glittering accessories.

you wander off away from abby for a little while, you’re quietly minding your own business checking out some artist sketches that are carefully hung up on the wall when you feel a presence beside you. “beautiful aren’t they?” a heavily accented voice causes you to look away from the framed pictures and you turn your head to see a familiar italian designer.

“yeah…they’re gorgeous! are they for the new spring-summer collection?” you query, you head tilting curiously in his direction. “yes, that’s correct…these pieces should be out within the next couple of months.” he smirks and leans in closer to you.

“i was actually just thinking about you.” he places a hand on your shoulder and you resist the urge to shudder in disgust. “oh, please…i’m not that special.” you force a stiff laugh and shake your head, after all this time you still find it hard to believe that you have become a well-known, household named model.

“im serious! i saw you at that runway show a couple weeks ago…and let me say, it’s been driving me crazy ever since. ive been dying to get in contact with you-“ he chuckles, his gaze drifting down towards you body. he takes your hand in his, a cunning smile spreading wide as he leans in to kiss your cheek. you shake his hand curtly before pulling your hand back and jerking your face away from him.

he continues to flirt with you, his eyes finding yours and locking onto them. “perhaps you’d be interesting in catching a drink tonight?” he looks down at your shoulder and casually caresses it with his hand. “my hotel is just a couple blocks away, and i know you’re staying in the city the whole weekend. so whatdya say?”

you start purposely clinking your perfectly polished wedding ring against your half empty champagne glass, hoping he gets the hint. “i’ll actually be busy with my wife….in our own hotel room, thank you very much.”

you catch a glimpse of abby across the room, she instantly feels a pang of jealousy as she watches him openly flirt with her girl practically right in front of her face.

her brow begins to furrow and she discreetly ends the conversation she’s having and makes her way over to you, she obviously saw the guy kiss you, and she’s clearly not happy about it.

you watch his smile falter a little at the mention of your wife, and he directs his gaze towards abby as she approaches, obviously intimidated by her height and stature. “everything okay, my love?” she asks, her eyes still watching the designer. you lean in to kiss her briefly before pulling away and nodding, wrapping your arm around her bicep.

he finally gets the hint and laughs, taking a step or two back. “hmm, well isn’t that a shame?” he says with a grin. he turns to walk away, before stopping and turning back to face you. “well if you ever want to get in touch, here’s my card.” he holds out a small business card with his details on it and smiles at you, abby quickly pushes his hand away and speaks in a passive-aggressive manner, “my wife and i won’t be needing that, thank you.”

he laughs cockily, obviously slightly amused before turning on his heel and walking off to probably shamelessly flirt with another married woman.

abby leans into you, resting her head against yours, taking the champagne flute out of your hand and placing it on a nearby silver side-table. her eyes still watching the designer as he saunters away. “i don’t like how he was looking at you, darling.”

you roll your eyes at her comment, giggling slightly. “babe, calm down,” you say, squeezing her hand. you look over at her and smirk at her. “but you’re really the only one who i’ve got my eyes on, okay?”

“you’re mine…all fuckin mine~” her voice is rough, and she still can’t shake her jealousy from that designer looking at you. abby leans in and kisses you on the neck, her lips gently sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin.

abby smiles wickedly at you, before grabbing you by the hand and quickly dragging you to the back of the boutique. you find yourself in a fancy, private bathroom and abby quickly locks the door behind you. she pulls you in for a heated kiss and you can feel her firm body pressing against yours.

abby’s tongue gently plays against yours, her hands caressing your face and your body, slowly pulling you closer to her. she bites down on your bottom lip slightly, but not hard enough to hurt you.

she pulls away for a second before diving back in, kissing you passionately and with more force than before. “all mine~” she whispers in your ear, her breath hot on your neck, her fingers finding their way down to hike your dress up over you ass, bending you over in the sink counter.

you hear the zipper of her pants being yanked down and the rusting of her shirt being untucked before she pulls your panties off your body and discards them onto the floor before nudging your legs apart with her knee.

you whine as she swipes the tip of the strap-on through your sticky folds, gathering up your slick before pressing the head of the dildo against your slit. “say it…tell me who's the only one who gets you this wet~” she pushes in slowly, groaning at the sight of your pussy greedily taking her cock. “you, abs…fuucck- only you!”

she thrusts herself fully inside without warning, all seven inches of black silicone right up to the hilt making you cry out, feeling every vein and ridge flush against the walls of your cunt. the stinging stretch causing your face to contort in a mixture of pleasure and pain as she pulls out until just the tip remains inside, then slams back in. she roughly manhandles you, slamming you back on her cock. “nnhhggg…a-abby~”

you hear her fumbling with something before you suddenly feel pressure around your throat, the silky material of her tie digs into your neck as she wraps it around your throat and yanks you back to make eye contact with her in the mirror. “look at me while im fucking you, yeah?” she growls through gritted teeth, her eyes dark and filled with jealousy fueled lust.

you’re gripping onto the marble counter so hard that your knuckles are starting to lose their colour, strangled moans leaving your lips, the perfectly applied lipstick now smudged around your mouth in messy splotches.

she drops the tie onto the counter and you gasp for some much needed air. she snakes her free hand down to rub at your clit lazily as she snaps her hips into yours at an eye-rolling pace. “a-abby! oohhh…my god…fuck…” the fingers of her unoccupied hand dig into your hip, holding you in place as she starts to pound into you relentlessly, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing in the small bathroom.

she groans, picking up the pace, the friction from the harness against her clit making her moans grow louder and more desperate, hips grinding into you in-between thrusts as she chases her own release.

you thighs start to clench and shake as her pace picks up even more, leaving you gasping and grabbing at any surface you can find to ground yourself. “you feel that? only i can make you cum like this, yeah?” you’re babbling incoherently as the the head of her cock keeps bumping into that sweet spot until it has you letting out a loud pleading cry as you cum on her cock.

she keeps thrusting, prolonging your release as she helps you ride out your own orgasm, her thick fingers digging into your hips hard enough to bruise.

“fuuccckk~” she pants heavily, leaning forward to rest her head against your back, the harness still grinding against her clit and making her cum hard whilst still buried inside you.

she lets out a loud groan as she pulls out with a pop, looking down at the mess between your legs and the cum dripping from your clenching cunt. you turn back to face her and she brings your mouths together in a brief, heated kiss before pulling away and carefully helping you clean yourself up.

she tucks her strap-on back into her pants and neatens her tux up before picking up your discarded panties and shoving them into her pocket before holding her arm out for you to take. “c’mon, baby~” her chivalrous action a stark contrast to the way she just fucked you into oblivion not even five minutes ago.

you smile coyly, adjusting your dress and grabbing onto her forearm as she leads you out of the bathroom and back out into the main studio space, not even caring about the skeptical looks and the un-approving stares of the people around you.

an; model!reader has me in an absolute chokehold right now😵‍💫if u have any ideas for more PLSSS leave me a request !!!!

#*ੈ✩‧₊˚ ⋆.ೃ࿔myfics⌨️ #⋆｡˚ ੈ✩‧₊˚requests🫙 #abby anderson #abby tlou #tlou abby #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson smut #abby x fem!reader #abby anderson x fem reader #abby x you #abby anderson x y/n

[vamossainz55]

sunny days - carlos sainz jr.

request: could you write something short about a date with carlos? it can be day or night. just wanna know what your ideal date with him would look like!!! a/n: requested by my lovely @scuderiasundays. my ideal date is literally just lounging/relaxing, and just enjoying eachother's company. i hope u enjoy this little piece of my brain + bonus of insta au at the end? huh??? what?? warnings: little bit sexual at the end! so minors dni

please don't be a ghost reader<3

The sun’s light shines between the trees’ limbs, patterns of leaves and branches adorning everything the sun can’t touch. You’re tucked nicely under the shadows using your boyfriend’s lap as a pillow. Despite being in his hometown, he’s also hiding away from the harsh Spanish heat, a baseball cap settled nicely on his head to shy away the rays from his eyes. 

Your sunglasses are resting at the tip of your nose, just enough to allow you to clearly read the book you have hovering over your face. You’re entranced in the story line, eyes wandering over the page as your mind pieces everything together. You’re wondering what the main character is about to do next, finger gently bending over the corner of the page. To your dismay though, your boyfriend’s face appears into view right before you can flip to the next page. 

“Mi amor,” He says, dragging his words with a soft sigh. It’s the third time he’s calling for you, waiting for your attention to shift back to him. You smile at how dramatic he is, resting your book on top of your chest. 

“Dime,” Tell me, you muse him for a bit, smiling when his hands go down to play with your hair.  As always his touch is gentle, fingers carding through the strands as he watches over you. 

“Nada, solo te quería decir que te amo.” Nothing, I just wanted to tell you I love you. His lips pull into a wide smile when he sees your cheeks flush red, and his head leans down to press a kiss to your forehead. Instead of his lips though you feel the bill of his hat hit your chin instead. 

Your reaction is instant, a wave of warmth washing over your chest as you hold back a laugh. 

“No te rias,” His voice comes out as a whine, but it’s too late, you’re in one of your fits. He can’t even be too mad, sees the way your hands go to your face to stop yourself from laughing. 

“Vamos,” Come on, you say in between giggles, gesturing to him to lean down. He wears a pout as he does so, watches as your hands reach up this time. Instead of cupping his cheeks they snake to his hat, turning it to get the bill facing backwards. “Eres demasiado mono. Dame un beso, porfa,” You’re too cute. Give me a kiss, please. 

Your hands cup his cheeks just as your lips touch, and Carlos could care less about the weird pull of his back as he leans down further to deepen the kiss. Your fingers gently rub at his stubble and his hand goes to hold your thigh. Teasingly, he rubs in circles by the edge of your dress, wishing he could sneak his hand up higher. 

By the time he pulls away he’s wearing a small but smug smile, loving the way you’re both breathless. He thinks he has your full attention, but instead of your hands being on him, they are returning back to your book.

You're nice enough to steal a peck back before your eyes leave him, going to the pages to search for the last word you’ve read. 

He realizes he needs to act quick, before he needs to fight once more for your attention. He goes for what he can see first, your sunglasses. Expecting you to fight back, he swats your hand away as soon as you reach to get them. He smirks just as he puts them on.

“Oye, devuelvelo,” Hey, give it back. Carlos simply shakes his head moving away when your hand tries to swipe at his face. You expect him to dodge you though so before he even has time to think of his next move you’ve sat up, turning to him with determination. 

He goes to defend your glasses, but he doesn’t expect you to go for his shoulders, pushing with your entire weight. You both land with a loud thump as Carlos’ back hits the ground. 

“Ay,” He groans, but you figure it can’t be that bad if his hands are still focused on defending your sunglasses, so instead of those, you go for the second best thing. 

The cap is a bit loose on your head, hanging low over your brows, but your main goal was to make a point, not be comfortable. “Pues me quedo con la gorra,” Well, I’ll keep the hat.

Carlos smiles, rolling his eyes as his hands go to hold your thighs instead. With all the commotion you had ended up straddling him, face hovering over his with your necklace swinging above his face. He doesn’t seem to mind though, not with how high your skirt has ridden up and how you feel on top of him. He squeezes your thigh, gives you a mischievous smile as his hand snakes itself further up.

He can hear the hitch of your breath and the way your eyes skim around for others. You don’t stop him though, not when his fingers are toying at the band of your panties, or when his lips mark up your neck. 

He revels in it, enjoying having every little bit of your attention. 

You never did find out what happened next in your book, but you realize that you don't mind that much either.

yourusername

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, and 38,726 others

yourusername sunny days and good times! never got to finish my book though ): 58m ago

carlossainz55: you weren't complaining earlier 😏🤫 54m ago

yourusername: shut up omg. 10m ago

sainzcalaruega: WHAT DOES THIS EVEN MEAN 3m ago

landonorris: who was better company? carlos or piñon? 40m ago

yourusername: piñon, duh 11m ago

scuderiasundays: oh to be yn and have a picnic date with carlos 😭 5m ago

#ooo #my first insta au at the end? #how are we feeling? #i hope you all enjoy <3 #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz drabble #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz x y/n #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz x you #f1 fiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #formula one x you #formula one x reader #formula one imagine #carlos sainz imagine #f1 imagine #cs55

[reomikagekin]

Excuse me Miss but can I request Alexis Ness, Kaiser Michael, itoshi rin and itoshi sae these boys like comfort their s/o beacause they're on their period and it accidentally leaked out a bit and they got scared that they might get scolded oh right you can just make one of the characters I mentioned

Thank you really much ^^

of course! Also you don't have have to call me miss, just call me sunny:D its been a long time since i wrote a request so i apologize of it isn't the best🥲 also off topic for blue lock, I also write for one piece now, so if you're a one piece fan, please do request! On my pinned post it says who i write for. Anyway- it might be a bit ooc- but im trying my best! also since you didn't mention if you want hc's or a scenario, i made hc's-

𝘈𝘭𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴

•He would be so understanding and sweet, like AHH-

•Ness is just a sweetheart, and would probably reassure you saying 'its okay, you can't control it!'

•He would wash the bedsheets if the blood got on the bed, make you tea, get you a bath ready, buy all the stuff you need- we need a man like ness fr

•though the first time he saw the blood he would probably be a bit concerend and a bit worried-

𝘔𝘪𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘦𝘭 𝘒𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘳

•Menace, an Absolute menace.

•Bro Wouldn't Scold, Bro would Tease you nonstop.

•Though he would be kinda sweet i guess??? One thing i know he won't stop teasing you-

•He might make you tea- but only if you say please/JKJK

•Bro would honestly give Zero shits about the blood leaking on the bedsheets-

•When you tell him, he's like. 'Oh, okay.' and walks away, leaving you dumbfounded

•Like you get no scolding, no nothing, he just gets ready and goes off for practice like he always does.

•Yeah nothing really happens, you have to wash the sheets. And you get no comfort, pretty much. Sae cares, but since he's almost gone the whole ass day, you get no comfort-

𝘙𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘴𝘩𝘪

•HE'S SO EMO YET SO PRETTY I LOVE HIM.

•like Sae, he would not give Zero shits.

•'Okay, so what? I don't care.'

•but be surprised, he does give you a lil hug, to comfort you and to reassure you:D

u•He'll help you clean the sheets and maybe even make you tea, and you get cuddles after, wowowoww

Sorry that this is so short😭

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #michael kaiser x reader #alexis ness x reader #itoshi sae x reader #rin itoshi x reader

[headkiss]

you’ll always know me (pt. 2)

part 1, part 2

pairing: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

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

word count: 12.2k

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

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

♫♩♪♬

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

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

He really, really wants to see you.

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

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

“He’s gotta work.”

“Why don’t I come get you, then?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thanks for coming.”

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

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

“Yeah, yeah. Get in the car.”

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

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

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

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

Too far into your friendship, of course.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Welcome home, Eddie.”

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

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

-

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

He showered, laid down, and he was out.

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t snore!”

“You snore, kid.”

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

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

“Wayne Munson! Were you on a date?”

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

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

“I’m happy for you,” Eddie says.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Dork.”

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

“What, you’re not happy to see me?”

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

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

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

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

“Sounds good to me.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t help it, I’m just so funny.”

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

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

“Go ahead,” she urges him.

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

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

“Sure am. What’s up, buddy?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There you go, buddy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, shoot.”

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

“Will you come on tour with me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re serious?”

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

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

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

“Okay.”

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

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

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

“I’m so glad,” he says.

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

“You’re gonna be late, Munson.”

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

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

“I know. I’ll see you soon?”

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

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

“I’ll call you, honey.”

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

“I’m Hank, nice to meet you.”

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

Right there in the backseat with you is Eddie.

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

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

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

“Happy to see me, trouble?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Goin’ soft on me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit, he’s so happy to have you here.

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

“You’re insane, Munson. Wow.”

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

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

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

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

“Of course, Mr. Munson.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How’d you know that?”

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Break a leg, Munson.”

“Five seconds!”

“See you on the other side, honey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The response he gets is a wave of cheers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, trouble.”

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scrunch your nose.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He settles for a glare in Jeff’s direction.

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

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

“I did not yell.”

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

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

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

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

He musters an: “okay. Shut up.”

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

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

-

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

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

Well, the rest of the day minus dinner.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ll hear that song, Munson.”

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

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

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

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

“Eddie, over here!”

“Who’s the girl?”

“Is that your girlfriend?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I guess not.”

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And those twelve movies are all amazing!”

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

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

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

“Who��s we?”

“Um…”

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

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

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

“I totally just won that.” Eddie says.

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

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

“You wanna say that again?”

“That movie sucked.”

“Okay. That’s it.”

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

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

“Admit you lost.”

“No.”

“Well, then. Your fault.”

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

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

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

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

“I fucking missed you, trouble.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I think I won, trouble.”

“Shut up.”

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s when you see it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He really should’ve kissed you goodbye.

-

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

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

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

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

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

“Hello?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure,” you drag out the word.

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, it is. You okay, honey?”

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

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

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

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

“I’m sure. I’m just tired.”

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

A smile flickers on your face.

“If it is, I’m pathetic, too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, asshole.”

“Nope. I didn’t. Jeff?”

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

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

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

“What article?”

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

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

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

“You idiots didn’t think to tell me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I needed to see you.”

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

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

“That article was bullshit.”

“What?”

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

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

“I don’t-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Other things?”

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

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

“You are?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I get that in writing?”

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

He kisses you then, broken by your smiles but the best one yet. Because it’s out there: you love each other. It isn’t a question of whether or not, it’s a certainty. You’re in love and you can have this. You have this.

Your hand that isn’t clasped in his holds the back of his neck lightly, your fingers tangled in his curls, keeping him close.

Eddie doesn’t go far when he pulls away, his forehead tilted against yours, his hand still on your face. The corners of his eyes crinkle from his smile, and you can’t help but kiss him again. A peck, another, and another.

“I’ve got like 36 hours. Think I could stay?”

You nod, your smile mirroring his. Lovesick, totally stupidly happy.

“Yeah?” Eddie swings your joined hands lightly. You nod again. “Good. I would’ve had to walk back to the trailer if not. I probably would’ve died.”

“Always dramatic, Munson.”

“But you love me anyways.”

“Guess I do.” Your fingers gently tug at tangles in his hair. “You’re sure about this? Even with the distance?”

Eddie lifts his forehead from yours to make sure you can see his face fully. His thumb smoothes over your cheekbone.

“I’ve never been more sure. Ever.” And he hasn’t, not even when he knew he wanted to do music forever. Because he’d give it up for you if he had to, though he knows you’d never ask him to. “I’ll call you so much you’ll get sick of me. And you can come with me when you have time, and I’ll come home when I have time. I want this so much, okay? So much.”

“I do, too.” You look at your hands, thinking about how you’d always thought they were meant to be holding one another. “You’re okay with dating a normie?”

“Fuck that.” His hand on your face tilts it just a little, urging your sight onto his. “You’re my trouble. Nothing else matters.”

My trouble.

“And you’d really come back to Hawkins more for me?”

“I’m going to.” Eddie understands why you’re asking. In the past, he’s gone quiet, he’s gotten caught up, but after tonight? He’s never gonna hear the end of it from the band, that’s for sure. “You’ll totally get sick of me, you’ll see.”

“Don’t think that’s possible.” You look at his face, the eyes you could never forget, the dusting of stubble across his jawline. A face that’s been on TV and countless magazines, albums and posters. “I always thought you outgrew this town.”

“I never outgrew you.”

You know there’s more to figure out, more worries to be had, but you’re in love and you can say it. That’s what’s important now, that’s what you’ll enjoy.

The shoebox that sits in your closet has served you well, but you won’t need to pick at the scraps anymore. Won’t need to hold onto this boy through magazines and newspapers.

My trouble.

When you kiss again, you’re sure that you’ll never want to be anything else.

♫♩♪♬

hi!! thanks so so much for reading these two <3 i’ve had so much fun with rockstar!eddie and i hope u guys did too!!! if you did, a reblog would mean so much <3

i don’t usually do tag lists, and i probably won’t again after this, but the demand was high for this one (like, crazy! thank u so much!) so here’s the rockstar!eddie tag list

@5sosjay @paleidiot @emma77645 @onceuponathreetwoone @copycatkillerfics @munsonmecrazy @r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e @lbhmoon @icant-hangout-imdrumming @freakymunson @blackcatwoman @l3xiluve @littlestarfighter03 @yujyujj @totally-bogus-timelady @kimmi-kat @spitefulscreenwriter @amira0303 @mylovelycrazyworld @esme-viridian @pippipsquirtsquirt @brassreign @madneedshelp @emilyslutface @alana4610 @crystalr @kirisuteg0men @hesvoid34 @cutiecusp @nerium21 @angel-ann-pops

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson requests #eddie munson request #eddie munson story #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie munson #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson rockstar au #stranger things eddie #stranger things #stranger things fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson friends to lovers #eddie munson angst #stranger things x reader #eddie stranger things

[moonrisecoeur]

Okay literally love ALL OF YOUR WRITINGS OF LEON. Hes so cute and i think you describe him so very well. I kinda wanna request something of him having a mommy kink yk? Cause like he seems like the type to say mama during it yk? BUT YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOU WANT!! I wanna let you have freedom.

awhhh thank you!! i appreciate u !! this is kinda short srry!!

-

vanilla is not boring, especially with leon. it’s easy, gentle, natural. you’re soft with each other, holding onto the other’s body and never letting them go, wet kisses lining each others necks and chests and thighs as you make love.

you haven’t been dating the blonde long enough to indulge in both of your fantasies and kinks, but you could probably make the guess that leon leaned a little bit more submissive. it’s not that he didn’t have it in him to take control, because you know he could, that despite his shy demeanor he was a caretaker and protector at heart. he wanted to care for you and give you everything.

but every time you’d kiss his neck, it’s like his mind would shut off just a little bit. you’d ask him something and he’s never felt so dumb in his life, trying to piece together the sounds coming out of your mouth and make them into words. he’s rarely successful. he ends up unable to give you a proper answer or response and just laughs nervously, which turns into a weak moan when you kiss him again at the same spot.

he’s easy. not a complicated lover in the slightest. figuring him out is not a complex puzzle. he’s vocal, so you always know what he likes and what’s not really doing it for him. which isn’t much, because he likes mostly anything you do with him.

“i want to ask you something,” he says one day, and it piques your interest, so you listen intently, “i have a request… for something we could add into the bedroom.”

“okay, sure, what is it?” you ask. you’ll try to be open minded if it’s something weird, but leon’s shy, so he’s probably going to ask for something simple, like a different position or something.

he takes a deep breath and braces himself, clearly nervous, “i want to call you… mommy. if you would be okay with that.”

silence, for just a moment. his dignity is bruised more and more as you process what he’s saying. he doesn’t mean to take your silence as rejection but that’s what it is without the context of your internal monologue.

you imagine it, for a brief moment, thinking of the things he’d say. yes, mommy, whatever you say. i’m yours. i’m your… good boy, i’m mommy’s good boy. it’s no less than tantalizing to think about.

“uhhh.. hey, could you at least say… something?”

“shit, i’m sorry, it’s just-” you stutter, and he looks at you expectantly.

please, mommy. i’m… really sensitive. please be gentle…

god the image of him begging, not even for anything in particular, is excruciating in the best way possible. it’s painful that he’s not already begging for you.

“i would… i would really like it if you did that. if you called me mommy,” you tell him, and he has half the mind to not believe you considering your weird silence, “i’m sorry, i’ve handled this interaction incredibly wrong, it’s just- i keep thinking about you saying it and it keep making my mind go blank.”

“it… it does?”

“yes,” you groan, coming closer to him, hands on his waist as he naturally wraps his arms around you, “i can’t think when i imagine you saying it, like, in context.”

“can i.. can i say it now?” he asks, and you don’t know why he’s bothering to ask for permission, “please?”

you nod. a moment passes as he gathers himself.

he looks at you with reverent eyes, half-lidded with a pleasure he knows will come but hasn’t hit yet, “mommy,” he whispers, his voice light and fragile, “please, mommy. i need you.”

"need me? yeah? show me, show me how badly you need me, baby," you press your fingers into his skin as you caress him, digging into his pliant muscles, his body contorting to your will, "show mommy how badly you need her, and maybe she'll take pity on you."

—

leon cries out, holding onto you for dear life as you bury his cock even deeper inside of you, it feels like you’re planning to ride him until he passes out, “fuck, fuck, fuck- mommy- please!”

“please what, baby?” you ask, smiling softly, but you sound so condescending. leon doesn’t know what to think, if he can even do so. every time a coherent thought comes to his head, it dissipates into the pleasure encircling him. he feels drunk. he’s close to crying and he’s not sure exactly what he’s begging for.

“can… can i cum, mommy?” he whimpers, his voice low and nervous, like he’s still scared you wouldn’t like this part of him, this side of him he hides behind his tough and composed facade.

"hmm.. do you think you deserve to?"

a double edged sword. there's no good options here, "mommy, please... i'm your good boy, aren't i? please..."

you brush a piece of hair out of his face, running your fingers through his hair, and tugging on the hairs at the base of his neck, “awh, sweetheart, you can’t hold it in? c’mon, try to hold back for mommy, it’ll feel so much better if you wait for it. mommy knows best.”

#sub leon kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s. kennedy #leon kennedy smut #sub leon kennedy smut #resident evil #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil smut #reader insert #smut #sub!leon #re2r leon #re2 smut #re2 #re2r #re4 #re4 leon #re4 remake #re4 smut #resident evil 4

[dilfth1rster]

I was wondering if you could do some smutty head cannons about Dean Winchester

Hi anon this is my first head canon like this, hope you enjoy it and if you want to further explore it, you know where to send me a request:)

Let's start with Dean is definitely a kinkyyyy himbo...

He's very dirty minded, any conversation that sparks as something a little sexual is like poking a bear with a stick. You never know what can trigger him.

I surely see him as both a dom and sub depending on a situation and or his mood. He doesn't see gender and would fuck anyone.

Nice chick in shorts a little too revealing? ... Yeah he would definitely try to hit that.

An older guy that gets a little too touchy after a couple of beers? Dean, umm- WOULD!

As of what he's into, it's a damn wide spectrum.

Starting with dress up... He loves that damn wild west cowboy shit. He loves getting in his cowboy boots and hat and a fringy jacket which also activates a dominant confident side in him.

He loves dominating and being dominated.

VERYYYY verbal whether it be about how nicely his big cock slides into you or how he degrades you and calls you his dirty cumwhore OR- how he pants in your ear while ramming into your ass with a speed of lightning.

He can NEVER decline a blowjob, he loves that shit. With him, it's more of a deepthroat or a "skullfuck" because he'd be holding you down on his wide 7 inches till u smelled the musky trimmed bush of his and later on definitely got lightheaded...

While I already mentioned his musk, I must add that his usual body smell is sweat mixed with a strong woodsy cologne and "leftover" whisky.

Dean appreciates when a lady shaves down there but he's a wild one for a hairy cunt as well as a bushy, hairy guy.

Loves high heels and "girly" accessories especially pink ones.

Is not scared nor intimidated by being called or referring to himself as Daddy.

Knows you're obsessed with his hands and loves helping you get wet by putting his chubby fingers in your mouth/throat.

DEAN WINCHESTER LOVES RISKY/OUTDOOR SEX!!!!!!! (includes public places such as dirty bar restroom which leads me to another thing that is...)

Unprotected sex. He's not friends with condoms, loves breeding you, and seeing his cum ooze out of you... and he CUMS A LOT.

He also loves getting bred by older guys(daddy issues I guess).

If you're okay with it:

He's definitely into watersports. Would love to piss on you, in his words "mark" you as his and degrade you.

Slap and choke you around(a little manhandling never hurt nobody huh?)

Make you worship his boots as a sign of your ultimate submission.

(let me include an image because it's getting hot in here...)

If it's longer than a one night stand he'd definitely want to cuckold you and make you watch as he breeds and destroys another young chick he met at the bar and brought to the motel room. Maybe if you're nice enough and behave he'll let you lick the juices off his cock after?

This man got a thing for piercings, belly button one that pops out from under your top, lip piercing or ESPECIALLY tongue and tits pierced... GOD DAMN!

Sex with him is usually fast paced(I say usually because from time to time it's not fast, IT'S DAMN RAPID)

SO... CUM-

we estabilished that mans got a breeding kink but well- Dean also loves cumming in your mouth and watching you swallow his sweet, chunky load, as well as painting your whole face in his seed.

If he's titty-fucking you he can explode directly on them.

If he's with a guy he enjoys getting bred and getting his face painted.

OH AND I ALMOST FORGOT-

This guy is a goddamn foodie, he loves to eat his sweet treats like the well known pie and such... he also loves to incorporate that into sex...

making you eat the pie he just came on or stuffing pieces of it into your pussy and eating you and IT out :)

Well- I think that's it for now. I'd love to further explore some of the aspect with you all, so if you got any questions or ideas, write away in the requests in my bio :)

(I'm a new writer so if you could like and reshare or leave a comment with your thoughts I'd really appreciate that)

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fanfic #deanwinchester blurb #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester x reader #supernatural smut #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles headcanon #jensen ackles x reader #smut #male smut

[melrodrigo]

Tardy, part 7

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Summary: You guys devise a plan to stop Ghostface once and for all, but some shocking news stops you in your tracks.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Mentions of violence, fluff, a little angst, my attempt at humor

A/N: Never mind y’all I just got motivation out of no where last night and apparently I can still write! This one’s kinda short…but I hope u like <3

You don't get to planning the demise of a certain wimpy pea faced masked killer as fast as you'd like.

You'd expected Sam to call the rest of the group and discuss details immediately; but that hasn't happened yet.

It's really starting to annoy you, but you can't even move far enough to grab your phone without help; so you relent and figure you'll kill the fucker when you can actually stand.

The only bright side, it seems; is Tara. She hasn't left your side for even a minute during the whole debacle.

She's gotten more comfortable, you can tell. Even gotten so brave as to come sit on the armchair beside yours.

Your anger has simmered down into a calm sea of peace; and you're starting to feel a bit bad for the indifferent way you've been treating her.

It's impossible to say you don't still care for Tara, in fact; you care a lot more than you probably should. The feeling is so overwhelming you can sense it's tendrils wrapping around you; threatening to engulf you whole.

Stupid, stupid feelings.

You tilt your head and look at her now, wonder if she feels the same.

Almost like she can feel your gaze, she turns and cranes her neck at you.

"Do you need anything?" She asks, flipping over the page of the book she was currently reading.

You don't trust your voice to come out as anything but a strangled whimper, so you nod.

She sits up immediately, practically jumping off the piece of furniture.

"Oh thank god! This book is so boring." She huffs, eyes brightening up as she gets closer.

She walks up to you and folds your shirt up, enough to show your wound. She examines it slowly, lips pursed.

"You know...maybe we should take you to a hospital? It doesn't really look any better." She states, staring intently.

You suddenly feel small underneath her intense gaze; and you wiggle a bit.

You weren't exactly at your best, since you'd been practically glued to the couch for days; apart from the occasional shower and a brush of the teeth.

"Tara?" You rasp, making her look at you; worry in her eyes.

"Yeah? You okay?"

You shake your head no, motion for her to come over. She looks downright stressed.

"Why? What's wrong?" She asks, reaching out to touch your face but stopping short, hesitance clear in her expression.

You muster the strength to bring your arm up to grab her hand, lay it down on your chest; intertwined.

"I'm sorry for being such a dick lately." You say, breathe in heavily.

"It was uncool of me. And I was wondering if you...would maybe want to be my girlfriend again?" It comes out as a soft whisper, and you watch as Tara's face changes from worried to unreadable.

Oh god.

"I mean- uh it's just that I think we might be better off as like girlfriends and I didn't really mean what I said before, I was mad you know? But it’s totally fine if you don’t-" She cuts you off with a kiss to your lips, soft and tender.

You melt into it immediately. Her hands fly to cup your cheeks, and yours press against her neck; pulling her closer.

You guys stay like that for a bit until Tara pulls away, breathlessly.

"I'm sorry too. I was being a bitch, and I should've listened to you. I promise I'll be better this time." She says, chewing on her bottom lip.

You pull her down, taking her by surprise and making her stumble and land right on you.

You let out a groan at the contact and peer down at your wound.

She retracts immediately, mumbling a million sorry's.

"It's okay Tar, come on. Come here." You wave with your hands, let her rest her head on your chest.

She doesn't press herself into you in fears that it'll hurt you, and it's the most straining and uncomfortable position she's ever been in; but she doesn't pull away.

"This is like doing a plank." She says, eyes sparkling with amusement.

You shake your head and smirk. Tilt her face up to yours again and kiss her.

"Shut up."

And she does.

-

The sound of your phone ringing is what wakes both you and Tara up. She stirs, then immediately tightens up; like she has a flight or fight response to the sound of it.

Oh wait, she does. You realize dumbly.

"It's okay. Everything's fine, could you just grab me the phone sweetheart?" You murmur, rubbing the top of her head in small circles.

She wearily gets up on her knees and reaches for the phone from the couch. It's too far; and she doesn't want to leave your body for at least 3-5 more business days.

"Woah!" She squeaks, loosing her balance and falling with a loud smack onto the rug.

You can't control the giggle that stumbles from your lips; almost on reflex. You quickly realize your error and shut up.

It's too late; because Tara turns to you, quirking an eyebrow. Then she lets out a giggle too, smiling so wide you can see her dimples.

It's a small moment, but it means everything.

It almost feels like the past few days have never happened and Tara's still freshly your girlfriend. Floating in nothing but love-filled teasing bliss.

She opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by your phone ringing again.

"Jesus christ they won't stop calling." Tara says, slightly annoyed at the intrusion on your moment.

She hands it over to you without looking at the contact, and you scrunch your eyebrows at the unknown number.

"Hello?" You muse as you bring your phone to your ear, still staring at Tara with a playful smirk.

It falls immediately when you hear the distorted deep voice.

"Hello YN."

Your breath hitches, but you don't want to alarm Tara; so you smile at her reassuringly.

"Hey bro, what up?" You say, with all the nonchalance of talking to a close friend.

"Bro? What the hell are you talking abou-" Ghostface starts, but you cut him off immediately.

"Oh yeah yeah, I'm still in uni. I hope you're not getting into any trouble like you always do?" You continue; pursing your lips.

Maybe you'll just pretend for the rest of the conversation and not tell Tara.

"Oh Yn, you don't even know what kind of trouble I'm about to get you into." He says, tone teasing and taunting.

Your chest tightens up a bit. What does he have on you? He's bluffing, he has to be…right?

"That is so fun, but I kinda have to get back to my amazing girlfriend now; you don't mind if I hang up do you?" You smile, eyes flitting up and down Tara's small frame.

She's sitting, quite adorably, on the floor. Looking up at you with curious but shining eyes.

"Don't you dare hang up or I'm going to split you from groin to ster-" You pull the phone from your ear and press the red button.

"Well that was a little rude." She tuts, scooting closer.

You chuckle.

"Can I help it that my girlfriend is the best-est person in the world and I wanna spend every minute with her?" You ask, nudging her nose with yours.

"Best-est, huh?" She smirks, leaning in impossibly closer.

You're about to lean down and kiss Tara but it twists your wound the wrong way and you hiss.

She brings her hand up to your face and caresses the skin of your cheek.

"You okay?" She asks, brows furrowed.

You're not, and you think it might even be getting worse like she suspected; but you don't tell Tara. Instead you nod your head and give her a tight lipped smile.

She grins, and closes the distance between the two of you. She gets up off the floor and climbs on top of you so you don't have to strain your neck. She does all of this with your lips connected, and you silently marvel at her skill.

"I know you guys just got back together, but can you stop eating each other's faces right now?" Sam interrupts, quite rudely you might add.

Tara pulls away reluctantly and wipes at her mouth. She looks flushed.

"We weren't even doing anything."She mumbles underneath her breath.

"Let them be Sam, I don't think I can take another day of Tara whining about how she's not with YN anymore." Mindy says, waltzing into the room after Sam.

You cock an eyebrow at Tara, but she avoids your eye; blush creeping up her neck.

"Nice job, by the way T." Mindy adds, clicking her tongue and shooting a finger gun at the girl.

You notice the rest of the group behind them, Chad, Ethan, Anika, and some other strange man at the back.

He must see your lingering stare on him because he's moving forward and offering a hand to you.

"Danny." He rasps, mouth turned in a crooked smile.

Okay, kind of hot. You think.

"I'm Sam's..." He trails off, sending a questioning look at the older Carpenter sister.

"Danny's my boyfriend." Sam answers, and out the corner of your eye you see Danny smile a little wider.

That's cute.

"Nice to meet you Danny." You say, shaking his hand eagerly.

"So, we're all here because we need to devise a plan. To catch ghostface, once and for all." Sam says, walking to the front of the living room.

"And what exactly is your plan?" Tara asks, moving beside you and taking your hand in hers.

You notice Sam biting the inside of her cheek as she thinks.

"I'm not sure yet, that's why I all asked you here." She says.

There's a moment of silence as anyone thinks of something to say. You try to think back to your interactions with him.

"We could make a suspect list? I'm sure Mindy has a lot of theories on her mind." You suggest, glancing over at the twin.

"Yes! Thank you for bringing that up YN. Sam, move it's my time to shine." She walks up to Sam, gently nudging the Carpenter to sit on the couch.

"So we all know Ghostface has some sort of beef with all of us, but from the attacks we can assume he hates Tara and YN the most." She starts, hands on her hips.

"We know Ghostface isn't really that strong. Either that or YN is just one hell of a fighter." Mindy says, gesturing to you.

You smile shyly at the heads that turn toward you.

"Can I add something? Back on the balcony, where I got attacked; Ghostface seemed kind of...small." You say, pursing your lips in deep remembrance.

"Like, way shorter than the one that attacked me and Tara on that roof. So I think there might be two." You finish.

Mindy nods, like she was already expecting you to say this.

"It's always been two killers, except for Roman Bridger; kudos to him for ambition."

Chad raises his hand, waiting for Mindy's approval before he speaks. She nods toward him.

"Could we assume the first ghostface was a guy? Because we all saw him, and he looked pretty damn big."

You shake your head in agreement, trying to think back on the night up on the roof. It's sort of hard because all you can remember is Tara kissing you for the first time.

Even after what had happened, you still considered that to be one of the best nights of your life.

What a simp.

"Now! Let's move on to our suspects..." Mindy says faintly, but you're not really focused now. You'd rather daydream about the girl sitting beside you.

The group ends up picking your apartment as the spot for Ghostface's Demise. You'd actually been the one to suggest it yourself, it's relatively big; and didn't have one too many hiding places for him to surprise y'all in.

Tara moves to sit on your lap as you continue to plan. Papers are strewn everywhere, multiple empty coffee cups on the table. You've drawn out a map of the layout, and Sam's made it her personal mission to storyboard the whole attack.

Despite the reason for for your gathering, you can't help but smile a little at everyone huddled together. They look like a real family.

Quiet laughs are occasionally let out, teasing and poking fun about how Ghostface is gonna attack. You sort of enjoy it.

The doorbell rings and catches only yours and Tara's attention. The rest of them are still in heated discussion about whether Ghostface or Voldemort would win in a battle.

It's Voldemort, obviously.

"I'll go get it." Tara whispers, planting a firm peck to your lips and standing up. You nod, let her untangle herself from you.

You sit a bit longer until you start getting antsy. It's been five minutes since Tara went and you’re getting a tad worried.

Has she been kidnapped by Ghostface or something?

She steps into the room now, and you smile at her; breathe out in relief.

You see a tiny envelope in her hands. It's ripped; and she's reading the inside.

"Any mail for me honey?" You ask teasingly, pushing yourself up on the couch slightly.

You don't notice the serious expression on her face till she tilts it up, eyes dark.

She doesn't answer as she strides to you, shoving the paper in your hands; arms crossed. She looks hurt.

"Care to explain?"

You frown, look down at the piece of crumpled paper. It's a DNA test.

At the top of the page it says:

DNA REPORT TEST

(For Personal Knowledge Only)

There's two boxes that fill up the whole paper. You stare at it, mouth agape.

It says:

CHILD (YN)

Alleged Father (Stu Macher)

#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #tardy #scream vi #wednesday addams x reader

[thel0v3hashira143]

❝𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐔𝐏!❞

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ eren armin jean reiner n levi ☆ various aot men as dads!!

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⋆𐙚��˚⊹♡ fem!reader (referred to as mom or mommy), black aligned reader but as per usual anyone can read

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ notes: y'all thought i was playin when i said had 2 other pieces huh...well anyways heres my 2nd official revamp entry!! erm i hope u guys like it cause i lost like 3 hours of sleep over this. (its bhm you have to like it or else) stay hot!! 🎀🎀

eren yaeger 🌸

2 words. girl dad.

this man was born to have an army of girls surrounding him at all times (but he's not necessarily complaining in this case)

you two's daughter is a very passionate and outgoing child and eren totally embraces that

he's deeply involved in his child's life, sharing stories about the world and instilling a sense of curiosity (aka giving her bad ideas)

he was an outside and play in the mud kid so he is all for letting her have free range to express/play how she wants

and he's a sucker for your little girl so he usually gets roped into her shenanigans

when you come home and the house is quiet you know those two are up to something nefarious 😭😭

"eren, why the hell does my kitchen look a hot ass mess?"

"she wanted to make a cake, babe!"

i can see your daughter playing sports (soccer specifically) and he is 1000 the dad that yells at the ref.

"did you see that [name]!? that brat just pushed her over l, why didn't that bastard call it!?"

will get down and dirty for his girls. no matter what

emphasizes the importance of freedom, encouraging your to pursue her dreams no matter what.

actually the most supportive ever??

your daughter wants to play 10 different sports? he's buying all the equipment no matter the cost. she wants to be the next picasso? he'll buy her brand new art supplies and be her model.

just hes so just....*sigh*

armin arlert 🌸

my man, loml, my day 1, my soul mate my everything (he was my first anime crush i will be projecting on this one argue wit ur mama)

he is definitely a gentle parent to your little boy who's just a shy little dude

armin knows what it feels like to be that shy and quiet kid so he's very patient and understanding

him and your son are practically carbon copies of eachother minus his curly hair (which he got from you) but you think its adorable

speaking of hair HE TOTALLY LEARNS TO BRAID/DO TWIST

he knew taking care of your son's hair was going to require extra effort because of his texture but he doesnt care and learns anyway (sob sob)

him and your son are attached at the hip and wherever one goes you typically find the other.

they spend many quiet moments together and obviously armin reads him multiple stories before bed.

i can totally see y'alls son being an artist/artistically gifted

you can find him and armin sprawled out on the floor with paper and various art supplies as armin nods along to the nonsense coming out of your son's mouth

"mhmm, oh i see! i think that color looks great there too."

meanwhile you're in the corner just sobbing and dying of cuteness in your house

much like eren he teaches his son the values of curiosity and freedom, even if his son is a little more reserved

he wouldn't ever force him into doing anything he doesn't want to, but encourages him in the small things

i also fantasize about living by a beach with armin so ik he takes y'all to the beach at least 3 times a month.

every single time he goes he carries his son on his hip as the explore the beach in search of shells and other treasures to take home.

"you like this one buddy? why don't we give it to mommy as a nice present, yeah?"

i can't write too long or imma short circuit but i will be expanding on this because i love armin so much

he's so neat :]

jean kirstein 🌸

jean, as a dad, is like a mix of cornyness and seriousness

on the one hand i can totally see him making the stupidest dad jokes while you and your daughter are just like 🧍🏽‍♀️🧍🏽‍♀️

like the irl personification of "im not a regular mom, i'm a cool mom"

but on the other hand he's just like my dad where he can turn anything into a life lesson and you have to sit while he scolds your daughter for at least 30 minutes

it's all out of love tho

he thrives in a lighthearted atmosphere at home and spending time together is a huge thing for him

he is a bbq/camping dad and no i will not take criticism on this

jean takes pride in teaching life skills, from fixing things around the house to imparting practical wisdom (even though it isn't always wanted 💀)

your daughter will likely be well-prepared for the challenges of the world. he likes to think he's the reason she has a good head on her shoulders.

speaking of which, your daughter is very much sassy...(jean swears she gets if from you but we know the truth)

shes the first one to have something smart to say and its gotten her in trouble quite a few times with jean...but theyre besties.

balances tough love with genuine affection, cause he definitely mellowed out as he got older but knows when to put his foot down (unlike eren. what who said that??)

your daughter knows she can always count on him. ♡

reiner braun 🌸

AURGGYGHH I LOVE THIS MAN

anyways as soon as your son was born he only knew one word.

panic.

specifically timeskip!reiner. i can only imagine him as a worrier and a helicopter parent up until your son is like 6-7.

"rei, if you don't let that boy go play with the other kids!" "[name], i read that a slide has 82 times more germs than a kitchen sink. i won't let him be exposed to that."

it's just like *sigh* but thanks to you he eventually mellows out.

y'alls son is a really kind boy. like stupidly nice. damn near a pushover. (but we love him)

while you're ready to fight the other parents (or kids) who hurt your baby, reiner is actually more gentle in his approach

he's clearly a big strong guy but he's very gentle in his approach when it comes to seeing his son cry or just in general

reiner, as a dad, is the protector. he's vigilant and caring, instilling a strong sense of security in your home

your son feels safe knowing reiner is there to shield him from any harm.

seeing talk all soft to y'alls son makes you go sksmwkwmwka he's so man...

"hey, me and mom love you very much. you got that bud?"

balances strength with gentleness. offering a listening ear and encouraging open communication.

he wants his son to know he'll always be there for him since he never really had a father growing up

safe to say your son grows up feeling understood and supported by both parents ♡

levi ackerman 🌸

for sure the strictest dad on this list.

from the moment your daughter was born he had her on a schedule that was planned meticulously.

like hour by hour he knows what's going on and you're just there like🧍🏽‍♀️

"i read a consistent schedule helps with her brain development." "...."

as she gets older he calms down a little. but like only the smallest little bit.

however! levi, although strict, is a fiercely devoted dad

this just came to me but he's the dad where if you our your daughter syas you like a snack one time he'll buy a lifetime supply until you tell him otherwise

despite his stoic exterior, Levi has a soft spot for his child's well-being and takes pride in their achievements, no matter how small

your daughter is a dancer. fight me.

even if you can't make it, you see him in the audience at every recital with a soft smile.

"you did great. yes, i recorded all of it for mom to see too."

ngl he is very rule oriented but 9/10 he bends begrudgingly for your daughter (she looks like you, so he can never say no.)

he values discipline and order but also knows the importance of showing love and appreciation.

like reiner he didn't grow up with the best father figure (if one at all) or anyone to really give him confidence growing up.

your daughter never doubts that daddy loves her and thinks she's the best ♡

he also is so skilled at doing hair?? probably better than armin.

ponytail, bun, twist, braids, you name it, he can do it. (has put you shame on multiple occasions)

teaches self-reliance and responsibility, ensuring his child is well-prepared for life's challenges.

expects excellence but also provides unwavering support

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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ 2nd piece done!! why was i fighting for my life during jean and reiner's....but i actually really wanna expand on dad!armin and dad!levi so maybe i'll give all the kids names sometime in the future. i tried to finish this is my ap chem class and my teacher almost took my phone 💀💀 but expect more soon cause i am on a roll! 🏃🏽‍♀️💨

𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐲 ♡

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𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚!

𝙘𝙤𝙥𝙮𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙡0𝙫3𝙝𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙖143 2024

#Words of the Love Hashira 💗 #aot x reader #attack on titan x reader #snk x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #eren x reader #armin x reader #jean x reader #reiner x reader #levi x reader #black writers on tumblr #x black fem reader

[cosmal]

AYO CONGRATS ON 3K!! love ur blog and ur writing and u immensely.

(tbh i have this irrational fear of making requests even if people are like "make a request pls" but i saw ur post and literally u don't have to tell me twice. for future reference blink twice if u want to hear every single thought of mine ever.)

spacey jane: james potter + you're here, that's the thing by beabadoobee

"i've got you wrapped around my finger like a piece of ribbon, you just won't admit it that you're smitten"

𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐝 — 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫

thank you thank you!!!! please omg request whatever yo whenever you want. i love all requests i get and appreciate them so so much. omg.

summary — james let’s you take him home when he’s drunk. james’s friends think he’s whipped.

warnings/tags — fem!reader, drunk!james

You can hear him before you see him. It’s not out of the ordinary for him to be loud, you know that too well. You follow the noise from the front door all the way to the sitting room.

You’re not sure what you and James are. He’s not your boyfriend. But, he calls you sweetheart and he kisses your cheek sometimes when you want him to. He invites you places with his friends but spends the entire time with you. He gets you flowers, not ones from the florist on his street, ones he finds when he walks to your house that he says remind him of you. He visits you with lunch during your breaks when you’re studying. He gets two of the same, but no meat in yours because he knows you don’t eat it. And sits and eats with you, listening to everything you have to say about how school is going.

But despite those things, he’s not your boyfriend.

But when he sees you for the first time tonight, and his face lights up more than you’d hoped it would because you’re really trying not to get ahead of yourself, you sort of wish he was your boyfriend.

“Y/N!” he cheers, still loud. Still very hearty.

“Hey,” you smile. You try to direct it around the room. You really like his friends and you don’t want to play favourite. Even though you’re definitely softer on him than the others. You’ve never kissed Remus on the cheek because you fancy him.

You sit on the arm of the sofa he’s at and try not to act too affected when he sets his hand on your thigh. His palm flush with the hem of your shorts.

“What are you doing here?” he asks. It’s more of a slur. Words sticky with intoxication. His face is flushed and you fight the urge to press your fingers into his warm skin.

“I’m your lift,” you remind him. Like you hadn’t spoke on the phone no less than an hour ago.

“Y/N!” he’d yelled down the line. “Y/N, could you pick me up tonight?”

“Yeah, of course, James.”

“Thanks, sweetheart. I owe you one.”

You didn’t have the guts to say it, but you’d do anything for him if he asked.

“Oh, right,” he laughs, attention turned back to the plastic cup in his hands. He swigs whatever’s in it. “We’re playing strip poker.”

Everyone’s still clothed. You think maybe they haven’t started yet.

“Wanna play?” Sirius asks, shuffling a deck of cards. He looks almost as drunk as James. Remus and Emmeline look like they’re on their way to join them.

“Shut the fuck up, Pads,” James groans. He might be blushing. You might also be imagining it.

“What?” he snorts.

“She doesn’t want to play.” James sits up in his chair, sniffing, he adds, “neither do I, really.”

“It was your idea!”

“Whatever.”

You don’t want to play. If James Potter were to ever see you naked, you don’t want it to be with his friends as well.

James sips from his drink again to occupy his mouth. If you weren’t here, he might’ve said what he really wanted to say to Sirius. Something he usually does when it’s just the two of them.

He spills the majority of his drink down the front of his lovely red shirt. You take it from his hands, wiping the mess from his cheeks. James sits and lets you do it with no problems.

“Can we do shots?” Sirius asks. You glare at James’s friend. A look that reads your friend is off his face and you want to do shots?

“Yes!” James cheers through a hiccup. You stable a hand on his back.

While Sirius gets up to go find shot glasses, you lean down to whisper into James’s ear. “Do you want to go home?”

James stops splashing around his drink in his cup to look at you. “Maybe,” he says, blinking slowly. You think it’s quite adorable. “Do you?”

“Only if you do.”

“I am feeling a bit sick.”

And he wanted to do shots. “Yeah?” you ask, squeezing his shoulder. “You can stay at mine if you want.” You only suggest it because you live close by.

James grins. “Can I do a shot first?”

“I don’t think so, baby.” You run a knuckle over his flushed cheek. “C’mon. I’ll take you home.”

You don’t mean to be that girl that steals the boy they’re talking to away from a party. But you think if he drinks anything else he might be sick. He needs water and a bed.

When Sirius gets back you’re helping James from the sofa, hand held through his. He wobbles and you stable him with a hand behind his back.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Sirius asks.

“Home,” James tells him. “Well, not really. I’m going to Y/N’s house.”

“As if. It’s 9pm on a Friday.”

“Sirius, fuck up,” James argues. “I’m going to a girls house and you’re gonna get over it.”

“You’re drunk, Y/N won’t touch you.”

You balk. “I’m gonna clean him up and put him to bed.”

James grins boyishly. “She’s gonna put me to bed.”

“God, you’re fucking whipped, mate.” Sirius finds it hard to act incensed over his friends happiness. It’s still fun.

“Shut up. Go finish reading that book Moony told you about.”

Sirius blushes. Grumbling all the way back to his seat. “Moons, my best friend sucks.”

James forgets about the idea of shots as soon as he gets into your car and you keep your hand held in his when you can the entire drive to yours. He won’t let anyone know how much he loves getting doted on by you at your house. He might get drunk a little more often, he thinks, if there’s a chance you’ll wash his face and help him into your bed.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x female!reader #james potter x female reader #james potter drabble #james potter one shot #james potter headcanon #james potter drabbles #james potter imagine #james potter fanfiction #james potter fan fic #marauder x reader #the marauders #the marauders fanfic #the marauders fanfiction

[noroi1000]

Ok imagine lightweight Gojo getting drunk and Shoko calling reader to pick him up. Special grade sorcerer yn who is already busy with an army of curses kills them in a slash of her technique, because shoko told her that he is fighting with y/n's ex in the bar

So an angry reader drives at full speed to stop bring him home but he is already sitting because her ex just ran away . Reader is angry but when she sees a girl flirting with him she gets insecure ( because that's how her ex cheated on her) but Gojo insults the girl and pushes him to the ground when she tries to touch him ( like Gabimaru from Hell Paradise if u watched it )and runs towards yn asking her to take him home

Reader's heart melts and she kisses him on the cheek and Gojo is a blushing mess. Reader is driving and Gojo is just looking at her complimenting her and when they reach home reader cleans him , gives him water and changes his clothes. While doing that Gojo decides to sleep shirtless so he also removes y/n 's uniform and leaves her just in her short shorts ( in a non sexual way , Yk just to feel skin to skin intimacy) and carries her on his shoulder and they cuddle and eventually fall asleep

Can u plz write it. If u do plz add few scenes from ur ideas to. I really like ur stories

Have a good day

My Big baby is drunk

Drunk Gojo x reader fluff

You took your phone out of your pocket when you heard your ringtone.

He completely ignored the large group of curses coming at you because it was so weak. You were able to deal with it quickly, and you didn't really want to finish everything at once, because you don't want to miss the smallest piece. And with some curses magnitudes, it's more likely.

Especially when curses are the size of flies' heads...

So small but dangerous.

"Yeah, Shoko?" You asked, listening to your friend's voice on the other end.

"Are you busy?" she asked.

"As if. There are groups of curses coming for me right now, but speak up if it's important." You smiled as you watched the curses slowly gather around you.

You were special. You are not afraid of such weak curses.

"Gojo is drunk." She said.

You furrowed your brows slightly.

"Did he do something about you calling me?"

"We're in a bar now. And Gojo is drunk. And he's fighting your ex here right now."

"The fuck?!" You groaned hearing this. "He will die!"

"I wouldn't worry about Gojo, just about your ex."

"I don't care about my ex. And he will die. If only he would piss off Satoru in that state." You laughed, and in your rage you used an energy wave to kill all the curses around.

"For now, all I know is your ex has a broken nose because he kicked it and fell on the counter. They're both drunk."

You wiped the sweat from your forehead as you walked quickly down the sidewalk.

Satoru often sleeps when drunk.

His low alcohol tolerance is such that he can be drunk after a very short time.

He's sleepy, but it's often easier to piss him off that way.

Even though once he had a low-alcohol drink with Shoko, as soon as his head was on your thighs, he slept and wouldn't let you go.

Drunk Satoru is like glue. Once he gets to you, he won't let go. Suggestive jokes when he hugs you or tries more.

But often none of that. Because you manage to calm him down.

He's just a big baby when he's drunk.

And all you can do is be with him. Because he whines when you're not around.

What if your ex is yours instead of you?

He will kill him. They're both drunk. So because of that, they're more likely to fall over and hit walls and furniture.

Unable to think about what might be going on there, you drove as fast as you could to get there, knowing that the sooner you got there, the sooner you can calm things down with your drunk boyfriend.

The strongest sorcerer in the world who is drunk?

This could be trouble.

When you walked in, you immediately saw your friend at the bar, sipping her beer in a glass.

And you saw your boyfriend lying on his back on the floor with a woman crawling between his legs.

No one around reacted because everyone else was just as drunk.

You walked over to Shoko, but then heard the voice of a woman who groaned as your boyfriend pushed her away.

She's drunk too. Her face was red from the alcohol.

Her hands moved to be placed on his thighs covered by black pants.

Then she moved closer, placing her hands on his chest.

Right now you wanted to walk over to her and pull her out of there by her hair so she wouldn't touch your boyfriend.

But you didn't because you wanted to see if Satoru would let her.

Shoko told you that your ex ran away, but you're left with your boyfriend and you're have horny problem who is next to him.

"will we go out? I have a hotel room." She whispered in his ear.

Gojo was so stunned by alcohol that he didn't even want to listen to what she was saying to him.

That's why he ignored it. But he knew she was touching him.

And that touch is not your touch, so he doesn't want that touch.

"How much did he drink?" You asked, looking at the stage.

You want to hit him so bad, but he has a delay when he's drunk. Once he allows her more, you'll hit him and her.

He is your boyfriend and you love him. But you don't like it when he's drunk because women always flock to him.

And this is your boyfriend.

"Two or three fruit drinks." She laughed as she sipped another glass of cold beer.

Yes... Your boyfriend has a very low alcohol tolerance. And the only alcohol he could drink was sweet. But he still hated alcohol

So he probably had a drink that had little alcohol but a lot of juice.

But even that can do such a thing to him!

You saw him turn around and look at you.

His eyes flashed slightly, and he immediately threw the woman to the floor, quickly standing up.

"(y/n)-chan~!" He groaned as he jumped on you, hugging you.

Asking for your touch.

"Take me home baby~"

He leaned over you, making you hold some of his weight.

And such a big man cannot weigh little.

You kissed him on the cheek when you heard that. You smiled slightly.

He was so hungry for your touch and your presence.

His cheeks turned pink as he hugged you tighter.

You sent a knowing look to Shoko, and suddenly pulled his hand to leave.

You took him to the car and waited for him to get in.

And then you took the driver's seat and started the engine of the car.

The glasses on his nose were askew and down. And he was making grunts.

And he started fiddling with the reclining knob, turning it up and down.

Like a little kid...

"My head is bursting..." he moaned, suddenly looking to the side of your face while you were focused on driving. "You look so cute~..."

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, his eyes fixed on your face.

"You're so pretty... I love you so much..." he moaned, leaning the side of his head against the backrest as he looked at you with a smile.

Intoxicated by the alcohol he drank.

You gave a short laugh at his wacky lines, but you ignored it. Because the priority right now is to get him home and put him to bed in peace.

When you parked at your house, he left himself, walking straight ahead to enter the house.

You quickly caught up with him, grabbing his hand to drag him to the bathroom. To refresh himself.

And when you got in there, you saw him standing next to the shower, staring at you like a lost child.

With a sigh, you gave him a large glass of water, and walked over to the tub, filling it with warm water.

His face landed on your shoulder as you leaned over to add some bubble bath to the water to make it lather.

"Baby..." he purred as he hugged you.

He was really eager for a nice touch.

Fortunately, there was nothing sexual about it so far.

Because when he's sober, he acts more like a pervert than when he's drunk.

You managed to free yourself from his grip, but his hands chased you as he followed you around the bathroom.

When you stood on the other side of the bath so he wouldn't reach you and you could do what you had to do, he put his feet in water, soaking his pants legs, and tried to grab you.

When he couldn't, he stood in the bath with a sad face, pretending he was crying.

Thirsty for attention big baby.

You walked over to him and let him hug you as he got out.

When he almost slipped on the tiles, you pushed him against the wall to keep him from falling and started unbuttoning his shirt so he could take a bath.

Once he was shirtless he stood motionless in front of you and you took off his pants, ordering me to take off his underwear himself.

You walked away, taking his hand to walk over to the tub. But he hugged you again. His naked body pressing against your clothes.

He doesn't care if he's naked or not. He wants to hug...

Without a word, you gestured for him to get in the tub and he complied, looking at you with childlike (drunk) eyes as he waited to see what you would do.

You gently washed his face and neck. Feeling like you had a cat in the bathtub because you felt like he was purring the moment you touched him.

You brought him clean clothes, and you made sure your big baby was clean. You dragged him into the bedroom and pushed him onto the bed.

You started changing yourself to go to sleep with him.

Maybe he won't fuss if you let him stick with you all night.

But as you turned around, you saw him quickly take off his shirt and pants, remaining in the underwear you gave him, and then, lying on his stomach on the bed his hands shot out to take off your shorts. He pulled your thighs down so you fell onto the bed, and lunged at you to take off your pajama top.

His body wrapped around yours as he closed his eyes next to your head.

And you stayed still as his hands held you and his legs were tangled with yours.

And your big baby wanted the touch of your skin on his.

Because all he wants is your love.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk x reader #gojo #gojo satoru #jjk #funny #Drunk Gojo

[distinguishedstudentfishalien]

AHHH ok, let's talk about Lucifer and Alastor

I've been reading a lot of reactions to Hazbin: from the gushers who think the show is perfect to the hyper-critical who hate the show, the creator, and everything in between. I don't fall into any of those categories. I had a lot of fun watching it, but there were some things I liked, and some others I didn't. You know, as it's usually the case with any piece of media one interacts with.

I love reading other people's opinions. It makes me pay more attention to things I might have missed. BUT for Hazbin, most of the criticism I've seen boils down to two things: either "I, personally, didn't like it, so that means it's bad" which is not the hot take people seem to think it is, or just lack of media literacy.

I won't go over all the examples of that last point (there are plenty), but one example people are using to criticize the show --which I can't seem to get out of my head so now I have to write about it-- it's how out of left field it was for Alastor to think of himself as a father figure to Charlie.

My guys and guysettes, that's because he doesn't.

He does it to piss off Lucifer, because he doesn't like him. That's it.

"But they just met, why doesn't he like him?" I don't know! but let's go over some examples, shall we?

In the first episode, during Alastor's TV ad, we see a picture of the hotel, clearly drawn by him. I ask you to look to the bottom left where it says "No tacky circus decor! I promise"

Do we know what he is referring to? Sure we do! the ring circus master himself! Lucifer Morningstar, whose whole schtick is circus-related. Clearly, Alastor is not a fan.

When Lucifer arrives to the hotel, did anybody catch Alastor's first reaction? (besides calling him short to his face, ofc)

Do you see that trembling eye? He is PISSED. Why? Who the hell knows! But he clearly does not care for the King of Hell himself (if you force me to give you my opinion on this, I think it's because of Alastor's delusions of grandeur, and plain-ole narcissism, but that is a conversation for another post, if I ever gather enough energy to write it)

He introduces himself and immediately does this. R-U-D-E.

Now, let's talk about the song itself, which, again, is clearly just an attempt to piss off Lucifer and not really about Charlie. At all.

He only cares about Lucifer's reactions. Because he is not being HONEST. We can all see that? right?? I mean, it is pretty FREAKING obvious. He is just trying to get a rise out of Lucifer.

And now, the moment we were all waiting for, the infamous "call me dad" moment.

Which had nothing to do with Charlie, and it was just another example of Alastor being the most annoying bastard alive. He is not even looking at her! He is staring Lucifer dead in the eye and saying "piss off shortie".

Why? Again, I dunno. Your guess is as good as mine. I hope we'll get the answer in season 2, because immediate animosity against the King of Hell himself is something I need some context for. Is it funny? Absolutely! I love that song! The violin solo? PURE GOLD (he he)

But for the love of Christ and the Antichrist, please stop thinking of "Alastor thinks of himself as Charlie's dad out of nowhere" as a valid criticism. As some have speculated, Alastor involvement with Charlie will probably have something to do with Alastor's deal and 7-year absence. If it's never explained, then sure, what the heck Vivzie?? please include it on the show!

There are PLENTY of things we could criticize about Hazbin (and people smarter and with more energy than me have done so already). But there are so many examples of "criticism" that are just examples of "I don't know how to interact with media anymore" and I beg of you to do better. This is a tiny example of the show showing and not telling, and some of y'all failed the comprehension test.

It is a fun show, guys. Enjoy it.

TL;DR: Alastor does not think he is Charlie's dad, ffs. He just wanted to piss off Lucifer.

#and NO #he is NOT jealous #I do not ship Alstor and Charlie #she has a girlfiend #he is an ace in the hole or whatever it is that Rosie said #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel critical #hazbin hotel criticism #lucifer morningstar #lucifer hazbin hotel #my beloved #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #hazbin alastor #hazbin charlie