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mermaidgirl30 · 6 months ago

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✨Her Bodyguard, His Shining Star Part 1: Kiss Me at Coachella✨

Bodyguard! Joel Miller x singer fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: I do not know what came over me, but this was heavily inspired after watching Sabrina Carpenter’s “Espresso” Coachella performance. This one shot took over my whole Saturday and Sunday! Thank you to @mountainsandmayhem for helping me with a title and the mood board and for being my beta! 🩷 This is both in Joel and reader’s POV. Comments and reblogs make my day. Enjoy, lovelies!

Summary: You’re performing at Coachella, throwing winks and flirting with your eyes as Joel Miller watches you from the side of the stage. He’s your bodyguard, and he should know better, but he wants you just as much as you want him.

Word Count: 8.1k

Rating: 18+ Only MDNI

Tags: Fluff, flirting, pining, oral (female receiving), dirty talk, cute pet names, unprotected p in v, switching POVs, reader is a singer, Joel is a bodyguard, reader has long hair, large age gap (reader is 25, Joel is 44)

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The warm sun glows against your glittering skin, the music pumping like sugary coffee running through your veins. The crowd chants along with you, singing every lyric you do while they hold their phones and snap videos while you twirl around to the rhythm of the upbeat song. You flash them big smiles, pose for the camera, sway your hips while your dancers match your cute little moves. You’re exhausted, almost done with your set at Coachella, but the flaming energy of the crowd keeps you going.

You spin around, pop your hip out and wave flirtatiously to Joel at the end of the stairs on the side stage. He shakes his head, chuckling to himself while he tries to act professional. That’s what bodyguards do, right? Stay professional? And he did, he really did, but you liked to tease him just a bit sometimes, get him all riled up if you could.

You see the smug smirk he tries to hide behind that patchy, greying scruff, watch the way those gorgeous honey flecked eyes scan your body. He can try to be coy all he wants, but you’ll call him on his bluff. The man is attracted to you, just like you are to him. But you can’t help it, he’s drop dead gorgeous. The way his grey threaded dark curls catch the sun rays, his ripped muscles cling to the flannels and tight t-shirts he wears on a daily basis, his corded veins spiral down his tanned arms, the way he towers over you every time he stands next to you, his deep Southern drawl that sends you into heat every time he graces you with that thick honey-like voice, and the way he’s so protective over you. But you also can’t forget that he's twice your age, which makes him even hotter.

You shouldn’t want it, want him, but you do. God, you do. At night when you’re in between your silky sheets with your fingers rubbing between your legs, you’re thinking of him. Those big, meaty hands, that rough tongue, his deep, gravelly voice that must sound so sweet filled with dirty words. You can’t help yourself, you want Joel Miller, your bodyguard.

He watches you strut the lit up stage, the sparkles on your pink dress catching the flecks of his wandering eyes. He thinks you look so gorgeous twirling around in that short tease of a dress. Every time you bend over or spin around, he can see those skimpy short shorts that barely cover the globes of your ass. You like the attention though, love to tease the crowd just like you’re teasing him now.

He sees the discrete winks you throw his way on the stage, the way you lick those plump, glossy lips that seem to call directly to him. You’re trying to get a reaction out of him. He knows you too well. You may be flirting with the starving crowd who begs for more, but you’re also flirting with him. And he can’t help but get drawn into those beautiful eyes of yours that glisten in the sunlight, can’t help the way his cock is straining against the zipper of his denim jeans right now, precum spilling over the tip thinking about thrusting between those pretty legs of yours. He wants you so fucking badly, and you have no idea.

You twirl your curls flirtatiously around your finger, flipping your hair behind your shoulders while he watches from the corner of the stage, pretending like that’s his hand wrapped around your flowing locks. Another wink his way and he’s mush against the edge of the stage. Maybe you are trying to get a reaction out of him, you just love to tease him, but he loves it just the same. You’re nothing but a little troublemaker.

He thinks about you all the time on those lonely nights on long tours, when he’s under his pristine sheets that graze against his hardening cock. He whispers your name under his breath when he’s stroking himself, pretending his hand is yours gliding over him, spreading precum with your soft hands, your pretty mouth. And when he cums he thinks of your glittering eyes, imagines you encouraging him on while he spills hot ropes of cum all over his soft tummy.

He may feel a little guilty after doing that, those dirty thoughts that swirl in his head night after night, but there’s no way in hell he feels bad about doing it. He’d have you every day if it was up to him. Oh, yes. He’d ravage your body till you had nothing left to give but your own breath that blows gently against his hungry lips. Damned if he does, and damned if he doesn’t. Either way he’s completely fucked.

The end of your routine is drawing close, the last number halfway over while the sun kisses your tanned skin. He knows you’re tired, can see it in the sweat that glistens like diamonds down your dainty arms. He’d go and scoop you up in his arms, let you wrap your own around his neck while he carried you to safety, away from prying vultures in the crowd, but he knows paparazzi would snap those pictures in a heartbeat and cause a scene in the tabloids. The pop princess and bodyguard have a scandalous affair at Coachella together. He scoffs at the thought. Fucking idiots starving for a shiny penny to add to their useless names.

The moment you sing your last line, you wave to the crowd and blow kisses to the rowdy audience. “Thank you, Coachella! See you next year!” They chant your name, begging for one more song, but your time is up. So you exit the stage all smiles with glitter falling to the ground, keeping your glow until you get to the edge of the stage.

Joel’s right there waiting for you, a water bottle and small towel in hand, just like he always does. He looks so good in his tight black t-shirt, sleeves pulling at his bulging biceps while his dark jeans hug his meaty thighs tightly. He always looks so good that you feel dizzy when he takes your hand and helps you down the stairs and off the buzzing stage.

Your breath catches in your throat when he closes his thick, calloused fingers over yours, his honey eyes bright and alert when he hands you the water bottle and dabs your sweaty forehead with the soft towel. You could melt into a puddle right here and now the way he’s looking at you all protective and warm-like.

“You really gave them a show today, darlin’,” he drawls as his dark flecks of warmth serenade you with attention.

“Yeah, you think so?”

“Mhm,” he hums, staying attentive to you while he watches you take a sip of water.

“Did I give you a show, too?” you ask all flirtatiously, batting your long eyelashes up at him as you slide your tongue slowly over your glossy lips, licking off a droplet of water.

His cheeks grow red, eyebrows fusing together as he shakes his head and runs a large hand slowly through those messy curls you so want to run your own fingers through. “C’mon, trouble. Let’s jus’ get you back to the trailer.” He grabs your elbow and drags you through the winding backstage area, dodging cords and other performers that stand in your way.

You follow next to him, quick to stay on his trail while fans scream from the right behind barricades when they see you. Joel pushes you to the left, lingering his large hands on you just a few seconds too long while he works to keep you safe. You know it’s his job, but it turns you on at the sight of him watching out for you, keeping a hand firmly on your arm, making sure no one else touches you but him.

Maybe it’s a lovesick fantasy, a fever dream that you and Joel could be more than this. More than just a bodyguard who’s just doing his job to watch out for you. You feel it, that sexual chemistry when you’re near each other, even in a large crowd that won’t stop screaming your name, demanding pictures and autographs while he pushes them away from your reach. You feel it in his heated stare, the brush of his calloused fingertips on your tanned skin, the devilish smirk he gives you when you tease him or say something you shouldn’t. You know he feels it, too. He has to. He’s just as delusional and lovesick as you. You see it in the glow of those amber eyes. He knows.

“So, you have a free night tonight, huh?” you ask as you keep your fingers curled around the soft fabric of his t-shirt.

“Sure, if you call keepin’ you out of trouble free time,” he chuckles, his brown eyes gazing back toward you, just enough to paint streaks of dark pink over your already blush caked cheeks.

“Me, trouble? Never,” you tease while you flash him a bright smile.

“Oh, you’re trouble alright. But you’re not the one I’m worried about. These Coachella fans can get pretty intense. I’d jus’ feel better if I was watchin’ out for you is all.”

“You don’t want a night off though?”

He looks back toward you and knits his eyebrows together, concern lathered all in those brown doe eyes of his. It makes you weak in the knees. “I’m alright. Besides, you’re not bad company to have.” He nudges you with his elbow and winks your way, completely knocking the breath from you.

Did Joel Miller just say you were good company? A quiet, reserved guy like him likes your company? The one that would rather grab a drink at the bar alone and sit in silence with a good book while no one bothers him? Guess you did have an affect on him afterall.

“Not bad company?” you giggle as you push against his shoulder.

“Not bad at all, darlin’. You’re jus’ the kind I need,” he says with a hidden smirk under that salt-and-pepper scruff you want to drag your fingers through. Yeah, you’re just what he needs.

Suddenly, a screaming fan comes from your left, some psycho that escaped through the wrought iron fence who stomps your way. He charges over to you, calling your name as his spindly fingers close over your arm, his other hand clawing at your pink sparkly dress. “Let me take a picture, please! I love you, I drove hours just to see you sing. Please!”

Joel rips the guy's hands off your body, pinning his hands behind his back against a caged off area while you fight to catch your breath. Your heart thunders in your chest watching Joel being so protective, possessive over you while the fan begs for mercy against Joel’s tight grip.

“Keep your fuckin’ filthy hands off of her! She’s not a toy you can just grab and demand things from. She didn’t give you permission, didn’t ask for you to claw at her dress. So I suggest you walk back out to the general admission area and stay the fuck away from her. Understood?!” His voice sounds like crackling thunder, that deep rugged breath towering over the cowering fan as he makes red marks over the fan’s useless wrists. Joel was just doing his job, one he was damn good at. But he made it look so sexy.

You stare in amazement, blinking through your thick lashes while you watch Joel shove the crazed fan through the fence, warning him to keep his distance or else he’ll wish he never stepped foot into the music festival. You gawk at him, watching the way his muscles flex underneath his t-shirt, watching the scowl across his mouth darken his menacing eyes. He’s a dominant wolf protecting his pack, and his pack is you.

You watch his flared nostrils and harsh eyes soften when he turns and looks at you, one of his large hands coming to clasp around your wrist while he assesses your wide-eyed features. “You okay?”

You nod your head slowly, keeping your gaze on him as he makes sure you’re alright. “Really, I’m fine, Joel. Thank you.”

Before he can manage a reply back to you, blinding cameras start flashing before your eyes, paparazzi swarming you as they just assessed the scene. They throw questions at you, screaming your name while you try to drown out their echoing voices.

You stick like glue to Joel’s side, latching your arms around his strong torso while you hide your face in his t-shirt beneath his shoulder. Joel wraps a protective arm around your back and guides you to safety.

“Get back! She ain’t answerin’ questions right now, she jus’ got off the stage. Leave her alone!” His deep voice hounds them, barking strict orders for them to stay back.

You’re so thankful for Joel right now, your knight in shining armor steering you to safety. The blinding lights start to slowly fade away, the reaching hands and firm demands slipping away once you enter the safe vicinity of your tour trailer.

Joel unfolds you from his safe grasp, turns you around and places one hand gently under your chin as if to say it’s okay, baby girl. They’re gone. He scans your frightened eyes, but you melt into a relaxed state when he looks at you with those concerned honey eyes that swallow you whole.

“You sure you’re alright?” he asks with eyebrows furrowed together in a panicked state.

“I am now. Thanks for saving me. You’re my hero,” you smile as he lets out a sigh of relief and shakes his head.

“Jus’ doin’ my job, sweetheart. Can’t help it that everyone wants a piece of you. Gotta protect the shining star,” he winks, nearly sending you over the edge of the steps to your trailer.

“Well, you’re pretty great at your job, Miller. Best bodyguard ever,” you flirt as you poke him playfully in the chest.

“Alright, little pop star. Why don’t you go relax for a bit? I’ll be out here, be sure to fight off any more paparazzi parasites,” he smiles while he watches you twist the handle and enter your safe haven.

“Joel?” you call before you close the door.

“Hmm?” he asks as he twists around and faces you with gentle brown eyes.

“Go easy on them.”

He just rolls his eyes and shakes his tousled curls off his sweaty forehead. “Sure thing, darlin’. Alright now, go on. Get in there,” he instructs as he nods to your room.

You huff out and slump your shoulders, pretending like it’s the biggest chore in the world. He ticks his jaw and raises an eyebrow at you that tells you he’s not messing around, so you fully oblige his request. “Alright, alright. I’m going,” you sigh.

“Attagirl,” he chuckles.

Your cheeks burn red as he leaves you with the hottest word before you close the door with a jolt. Attagirl. The word rushes through you, straight to your core where you feel a bit of slick build against your sticky lace. How can a man get you turned on with just one word? Well, it’s Joel Miller, and the man can make you wet with the wink of those pretty brown eyes, but Attagirl was next level. It was borderline porn to your ears.

When you hear the click of the door close you take a second to breathe, leaning up against the sealed door while you flick the lights on and try to calm your racing nerves. You assess your pristine room, taking in the white walls hung with pink fairy lights. The glow from your vanity mirror lights up the little corner where your sparkly makeup sits neatly together. The pink velvet sectional sits up against the middle of the wall where a picture of Marilyn Monroe hangs right above that. Soft pink colors cover the room, and you feel suddenly at ease in the protection of your trailer.

You meander toward the vanity mirror, assessing your perfect makeup that still stays intact on your glowing face. The sparkling pink eyeshadow mixes in with the sharp wings of black eyeliner that frames your soft eyes. Shimmery pink lip gloss coats your plump lips, and the blush stands out against your tanned skin. Your spiral curls flow gently over your shoulders, and your sparkly dress hugs all your curves in the right places.

You suddenly want to be free of your costume, wanting to throw on a pair of cutoff jean shorts and an oversized t-shirt. When you turn your back to the mirror and try to unzip your dress, it gets stuck just a couple inches from the top.

“Oh, come on. Work with me.” You fight the zipper again, tugging with all your might until you grit your teeth together and curse under your breath. This is not what you need right now. You want out of this dress, out of these high heels, out of these smothering tights.

You stomp your heel into the plush carpet, folding your arms across your cleavage as you decipher just what to do. Lacy, your assistant, is tied up in important meetings for the rest of the afternoon. She’s nowhere near your little trailer. Your makeup artist is busy helping other performers, so you have no other options. Joel is the only one…

You gulp, take a long look at your flushed cheeks just thinking of having Joel Miller unzip your dress. It’s harmless, really, but not if he’s doing it. That would only lead to one thing. Giving into pure desire, temptation, need.

“Fuck it,” you whisper to yourself, “if a show is what he wants, then a show is what he’ll get.”

You tiptoe to the door, hovering your hand over the handle as you take a deep breath and breathe in and out slowly. It’s just a zipper, only a zipper. He could always say no, leave you stranded while you’re stuck in your dress the entire evening. He wouldn’t do that though, leave you helpless while you fight to rip the tight dress off your body. He just wouldn’t allow that. No way.

You take one more deep breath and open the door slowly, slipping your head out as you see Joel standing at the bottom of your trailer steps. You clear your throat and watch him turn his head quickly in your direction, leaving his guard wide open as he assesses your distressed face. “Umm, Joel. Can you do me a favor?”

His eyebrows knit together while his eyes glaze over your body. “What is it, darlin’?” His doe eyes lean into yours, and you can barely muster up any words while he looks at you like that, all caring and deep.

“Well, my zipper got stuck in the back, and I can’t get it down. Do you think you can help?” you ask shyly, your eyes looking up nervously through your long lashes.

“Uhh, where’s Lacy? I can go grab her, let her help ya out.”

“No!” You reach out an arm and grab his wrist tightly, watching his brown eyes widen at your sudden contact on his tanned skin.

“No?” he asks confused, his breath picking up underneath his dark t-shirt.

“I mean, she’s in meetings for the rest of the afternoon. She’s nowhere near the trailer. And I’m awfully uncomfortable in this tight dress. Do you think you can just come in really quick and help?”

He gulps down a breath, his heartbeat picking up incredibly fast while he looks into your gorgeous eyes. How can he say no to that? He can’t, so he won’t. He rakes a hand slowly through his greying scruff and nods your way.

“‘Course I’ll help, sweetheart. C’mon then.” He places a hand gently on your lower back and leads you into the glowing lights of the trailer, letting the door close with a bang as he guides you to the middle of the room.

“Turn around for me, sweetheart,” he asks nicely as you oblige and turn your back toward him.

He looks at your undone zipper, sees where it’s stuck in the pink fabric of the dress. Of course he’d be the only one around to help you, of all things a fucking stuck zipper on you. He has no resistance when it comes to you, he just can’t say no to that pretty face of yours.

“Zipper’s jus’ caught in the fabric. Should just take a little tugging,” he says with gritted teeth, pulling on the zipper while he holds the silky fabric tight with his other hand.

After a few seconds of fighting the dress, he gets it free of the catching fabric. He slowly unzips the back of your sparkling dress, going ever so slowly as if not to make a single sound. The only sounds he hears are your quick breaths, the beating of his own racing heart, and the noise of tugging you free of the suffocating, tight dress.

He watches it stop at the end of your curvy hips, catching the way your skin seems to shimmer as your flawless skin comes into his line of vision. He sees the way the dress falls open in the back, your skin begging to be touched, to be stroked as it beckons him closer and closer until he’s hovering above your hot skin.

He knows he shouldn’t linger, shouldn’t hover over the glow of your exposed skin, but it’s almost sinful not to touch you when the glitter of your undertones calls directly to him. He gives in, stealing just a touch as he rubs his fingers slowly down your spine.

You squirm beneath his touch, tingling sensations running wildly down your skin with each touch he takes from you. You ravish in it, holding your breath while he takes his time dipping across the curve of your back.

He leans into you, ghosting his lips across your neckline while he breathes you in deep. He smells the vanilla scent of your perfume, lilac breezing through your soft curls, and can even smell the cherry flavor of your glittery lip gloss. You must taste so good, he can already feel your soft lips against his while he takes his other hand and moves your curls over the left side of your shoulder.

You turn your head back gradually, exposing the veins in your slender neck while it gives him access to dip his lips against the curve of your neck. “Joel,” you whisper out, your insides shaking as the hand on your back sinks down to the curve of your hip.

He can’t respond, too lost in your delicious scent while his hand dances against the silk of your tempting skin. He’s a bad man, putting himself in this vulnerable position where he’s alone with you, with your zipper completely down and your dress barely holding itself against your perfect body.

He should go back outside, stay away from your midnight eyes, your luscious locks, your sweet smelling perfume, but he can’t. He just can’t. He’d rather die than to leave you alone now, untouched, not taken care of. He’s your bodyguard, he’s paid to take care of you. So he will, in every way that he can. He’ll have his way with you. If your zipper can be fixed then who's to say that ache between your legs can’t, too?

He spins you around, your chest pressed flush against his while he slowly backs you up against the wall, caging you in with his strong arms while he breathes in your sweet vanilla scent that drives him wild. He sees the cleavage practically spilling from the top of your undone dress, wants to fucking rip it to shreds until there’s nothing left but your glowing skin under the tips of his pressing fingers.

He takes a hand and pushes back a strand of curls behind your ear, lingering his thick fingers along your jawline while you breathe in the woodsy mahogany smell, his expensive cologne that you could lather yourself in just to smell like him. He’s so close that he could lean down and press his lips to yours, so close that you could twist your fingers through those lush curls that you so desperately want to meld your fingers to.

You’ve never been this close to him before, to where you can see just how pretty and clear his brown flecked eyes are. You’re driving yourself into dangerous territory, but you don’t care. No one’s here to stop you from making any mistakes, and Joel is not a mistake.

He hovers over you, dragging his lips against your jawline and stopping at the shell of your ear, lingering there while his meaty hands dig into the curve of your hips. “We shouldn’t… I shouldn’t,” he says with gritted teeth, painfully dragging out the words while he tickles the shell of your ear with his plush lips.

“Why not?” you whine pathetically as you place a hand under his shirt, making him jump while you graze over the happy trail that leads underneath his jeans. It makes a deep groan slip from his throat.

“I’m twice your age. You jus’ turned twenty-five, I’m pushing forty-five. I’m your bodyguard. I should be more respectful, shouldn’t give in to a pretty thing like you,” he murmurs as he feels his cock hardening beneath the denim of his jeans.

“I don’t care that you’re older or that you’re my bodyguard,” you mumble as your fingers tug the leather belt free from his jeans.

He groans, licking the edge of your ear while he fights to find an ounce of control in his desperate body. He finds none. “We shouldn’t, darlin’. It’d be irresponsible on my part. What if the paparazzi found out? They’d turn the headlines into a hell of a mess. Hell, your publicist would kill me,” he says defeatedly while his hands stay glued to your hips.

“I don’t care what my publicist says, I don’t care about the paparazzi. I know what I want, Joel. I know you want it, too. Just as much as I do.”

He groans against you, doing his best to resist you, but he can’t. He’s a weak man for you, and he’ll give in with the snap of your fingers. He’s got no fight left in him, he’s all yours. “Are you sure, sweetheart? You want this? Want me?”

You grip tighter to his jeans, dragging his hips flush against yours as you feel the swell of his cock through the denim. He’s so fucking big, and you haven’t even seen him yet. “Yes, Joel. Please. Want you, only you,” you stifle out a moan as his lips trail against your neck, gently nipping and sucking against your sensitive areas while his hands ghost over the curve of your breasts.

“God, I can’t say no to you, gorgeous. You don’t even know what you do to me every time I see you up on that stage, singin’ with that angelic voice of yours, dancin’ around all flirtatiously while you make me so fuckin’ hard beneath my jeans.”

You groan at his filthy words, letting him spread your legs while one of his parts your legs wider. One hand trailing up your inner thigh while his other slowly pulls against the top of your pink dress. “You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to do this for so long, how much I’ve wanted to press my face between those thick thighs of yours,” he groans as he trails his lips against the cleavage of your dress.

“Probably just as long as I’ve wanted you to,” you pant out as he tugs at the hem of your dress.

“Yeah, s’that right?” he teases, dragging his teeth lower down your breasts.

“Mhm. Joel, fuck. Taste me, touch me, fuck me,” you beg as you wrap your arms around his neck.

“Fuck you, hmm? That what you want?” he teases while he slowly pulls your dress free, hearing it drop to the floor when all you’re left in is your shorts and tights.

“Yes, please. Want you, need you to touch me. Do it, Joel. Please,” you whine, twisting your fingers around the curls around the base of his neck.

He chuckles out, sucking in a breath as he fully obliges your request. “Alright, pretty pop star. If that’s what you want, how can I say no to you?”

He leaves you with no warning, cupping one breast in his large palm while he sucks on your other one, running his tongue in circles until your nipples are pebbled and swollen beneath his tongue, his mouth, his hands. He does the same to the other one, languidly sliding his tongue over the pebbled bud while he massages your breasts with his calloused fingers.

He bathes in your moans, making certain to get you all worked up where he knows you’re already soaking beneath your panties. That’s where he wants you wet, begging for him to touch you.

“Joel,” you whine, feeling his fingers fall free from your pebbled breasts.

“I know, baby. I know. Don’t worry, gonna take care of my girl.”

Before you can speak, he cups your face and sinks his plush lips against the gloss of yours, melding his mouth to yours while he tastes the cherry flavor of your lip gloss. You part your lips for him, inviting him in as you feel him lick feverishly into your mouth. Your tongues dance together in unison, allowing him to tangle his with yours while he revels in your pretty moans against his hungry mouth. He’s starving for you, absolutely famished while he takes and takes from you, letting his tongue explore the entirety of your open mouth. If you taste this good, just think how absolutely divine you must be between your legs.

His hands roam down to your shorts, slipping his fingers inside the waistband and tugging them free of your skin. You step out of your high heels, kick the pink shorts aside and allow his mouth to break free of yours. You pant tirelessly, watching him kneel between your legs as he starts to run his fingers up and down your thighs.

He looks up at you, his eyes becoming dark pits that consume him whole. He’s feral for you, and he won’t stop till he has every last drop from you. “You have another pair of these?” he asks, nodding to your tights.

“I’ve got a million pairs,” you say out of breath.

He smirks up at you before he tears into the flesh of your tights, ripping them to shreds while one of his large hands meets the lace of your panties. “What about these, hmm? Gonna miss these?”

You shake your head, unable to get a word out as you swallow a whine in the back of your throat. “No?” he asks all deep and gravelly while his thumb traces against the edge of your lace, sliding down to put some pressure between your drenched lips.

You throw your head back and whine, begging him to continue on. “No, Joel. Just take them off, please. Need you,” you breathe out desperately.

“That’s all you had to say, sweetheart.” He takes no time, ripping into the seam of your panties as you watch him split them in half, throwing them in a pile on the floor while his eyes blow wide when he takes in the bare sight of you.

He groans to himself, dragging a finger through your wet arousal, parting you in the middle as he hears the sloshing sounds come from his thumb spreading the wetness all across your dripping core. He inhales you, reveling in the pretty noises you make while he takes his time exploring you, gathering the slick on his calloused fingers as he burns the sight of your messy pussy in the back of his brain.

“Shit, baby. Already so fuckin’ wet for me. This what I do to you, hmm? You always this wet around me?”

“Mhm,” you moan, feeling his fingers pull you apart as more slick pools between your thighs.

“All this for me, goddamn. Ain’t I jus’ the luckiest man alive.” He licks a thick stripe up your core, dragging his tongue to lap up the slick that spills from your insides, making you pant out with need as he makes you come undone. “Don’t worry, baby. Gonna take real good care of this pretty pink pussy. Just sit back, relax, and let me do all the work.”

He doesn’t even give you a chance to breathe, he just dives right in. He takes the flat of his tongue and strokes your folds, working you up and down while he soaks in the sweet taste of you. He hooks one of your pliant legs over his shoulder while you fight to not break already.

He drags his nose through the curls above your mound, sucking your swollen clit into his mouth while he breathes in the sensational musk of your pussy, drinking down your sticky arousal that makes his taste buds come to life. He’s never tasted a pussy this sweet before in his life, never quite experienced the high of such an intoxicating body before. He’s wanted you for so long now, and he never even imagined it’d be this good before.

“Joel,” you moan above him, wrapping your delicate fingers through his messy curls, driving out a deep groan from him by the way you cling to him. He loves the feel of you in his hair, pulling and tugging while you bite your lower lip and moan his name over and over again. It’s like an addictive drug he’s prescribed to, and he needs more, wants more of you.

He slips two digits into your drenched hole, filling you so full while his thick fingers curl and hit that spongy area that makes you see bright lights flash before your eyes. He revels in your moans, eliciting more with every touch and curl of his fingers, with every feverish lick to your messy center.

“Yeah? You like that, baby? Feel good?” Joel purrs while he watches you fall apart beneath his fingers.

“So good, Joel. Want you to - ahhh,” you whine as he pulls your aching bundle of nerves back into his warm mouth, releasing it with a pop as more slick covers his knuckles.

“Mmm, s’that right, sweetheart? Gonna cum for me? C’mon baby girl, go on and soak me,” he purrs.

You feel the white hot sensation taking over, feel his long fingers curl up to hit that spot again and again while he pulls your aching clit back into his mouth. And it feels so fucking good that you just can’t hold on any longer. “Joel, I’m gonna… fuck, I’m coming,” you whine as you release your pent up energy, soaking his knuckles while he works you nice and slow, licking at your core as the slick builds on his tongue, drinking you down till he soothes that aching need in his throat.

You come down slowly, feeling your body go through the tingling sensations that make you feel so alive. You’ve never had it this good before, not before Joel. He’s going to be the end of your demise.

You look down at him between your legs, fingers still curled inside your core while he slowly drags them out of you with a groan from your lips. He pops the digits into his mouth, sucking the sweet release while he moans your name. He looks fucking wrecked, his hair all tousled and messy, wide eyes blown out to black pits that want to devour you whole. The way he’s looking at you makes you think he’s not done with you, and he’s not. Oh no, he’s just getting started.

“Such a good girl for me,” he purrs, sliding his calloused fingers up to your hips while he unhooks your leg from his shoulder. “I’m not done with you yet, baby. Now, c’mere.”

He throws you over his shoulder, a surprised gasp coming from your lips as he takes you over to the velvet couch. He drops you on your hands and knees, not giving you a moment to breathe while he situates himself behind you and spreads your legs wide.

He takes a few seconds to admire your glistening core, sitting back on his heels as he rakes a hand slowly over his greying scruff, taking in the absolute beauty that sits before him. He’s never seen a sight like this that he goes head over heels for, sliding his tongue between his teeth as he whispers how fucking perfect you are.

He groans your name, dragging his thumb up and down your sticky folds while one hand spreads your cheeks wide. He says your name repeatedly, taking in the sight of you in front of him. He thinks you’re so fucking pretty, all messy and dripping just for him. He wants to just slip your scent, your taste into his own cologne, mix the two together until he can only smell you on his body.

He licks at your core, spreading you wide while he devours you whole. He pulls at your glistening clit, languidly circling the swollen bud that calls sinfully to him. He wants to give you all the orgasms, drink you down till you have nothing left to give, curl his fingers inside your heated core, work you over till the only thing you can say is his name through your pretty moans.

He thrives in the musk of you, the taste of your cherry lips, the sweet saltiness of your warm cum. If he could give it a name, he’d call you his special jasmine flower, known to be the sweetest, most fragrant flower in the world. That’s what you are to him. The rarest flower that ever came into his reach, his life.

He licks against your slick folds, working his fingers in and out of your delicious cunt, slurping on your sensitive mound while he drowns it in his own drool, lusting after you until you writhe beneath him and give him another mind blowing orgasm.

“Joel, I’m coming, I’m coming,” you cry, spilling yourself all over his digits and inside his heated mouth. He can’t reply, too busy drinking you down as he groans good girl through the taste of you on his large tongue.

He swallows all the slick between your thighs, holding you up together while your legs shake uncontrollably. You may have fallen apart on his tongue twice, but he still wants more. He’s greedy like that when something belongs to him. You’re his as far as he’s concerned now, and he always takes care of what’s his.

“Joel, wanna… wanna…” you stutter tirelessly, out of breath from the insane orgasm he pulled from your body.

“What do ya need, sweetheart? Use your words,” he coaxes, placing a hand gently at the small of your back as he strokes small circles into the heat of your skin.

“Your cock. Let me suck your cock, make you feel good, too,” you whine out, grinding your teeth together as he gently blows on your aching core.

“Not this time, baby. Later. Gotta take care of you first. This time I wanna have my way with you, want your cum dripping down my tongue, making my cock all messy from your sweet release. Wanna bottle you up and make you my own personal brand of whiskey,” he growls as he pulls his t-shirt over his head and frantically slides his jeans and boxers over his feet, disposing the sweaty material on the ground.

He hisses as he spreads the precum over his shaft, pumping himself a couple times before he grabs your hips and scoots you back, stifling a moan from your mouth as he plunges his massive cock into your throbbing pussy.

“Oh, shit. Joel,” you whine, filling the room with your sweet incantations while he fills you so full of him.

“Yeah? You like that, dirty girl? Takin’ this cock so good, squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight,” he growls, pulling your hair back as your head snaps up, his mouth meeting yours as he licks feverishly inside, swallowing your moans while he continues his frantic thrusts into your weeping pussy.

He pulls out from you, throwing you on your back while he hooks your legs over his shoulders, rutting back inside you as his cock gets covered in your sticky slick. You throw your arms around his neck while he finds your mouth again, licking inside, moaning your name on the tip of his tongue as he speeds up his thrusts inside you.

The sounds are obscene, the wet smacking noises of his hard cock drilling inside your drenched pussy reverberating off the glow of the pristine walls. He releases his mouth from yours, leaning back to take in the gorgeous view that’s you. You’re splayed all over the couch, your perky breasts bouncing up and down with every thrust of his cock, your eyes all glossed over and fucked out while he takes you nice and slow. He thinks you’re a vision, a full on masterpiece that deserves to be displayed in an art gallery, your mouth making that pretty O shape while you chant his name angelically.

“Know you’re close, baby. Squeezin’ me so tight, feels so good,” he moans through the grit of his teeth.

“Joel, I’m gonna… gonna… fuck,” you whine as you feel that all too familiar white hot sensation rush through your entire body.

“Oh yeah, baby. That’s it. Such a good fuckin’ girl. Go on now, soak this cock,” he coaxes.

He watches you fall apart beneath him, beautiful, glossy eyes rolling back as you drag your manicured nails down his back, giving him the prettiest moans as you clench around him and release your cum all down his quivering cock.

“Good girl,” he praises, talking you through your intense orgasm as he quickens the strokes inside you, reaching heights you never could without him, kissing your cervix with the tip of his cock. It feels so fucking good, and you just gave him the best three orgasms of your life. You’re exhausted, but you need him to finish. You need him inside you.

Sweat drips off his forehead, ending in his tousled curls as he bares his teeth, barely able to hold on any longer. “Baby, I’m about to cum. I can’t hold on much longer. Where do you want me, sweetheart? Where do you want me to spill?”

“Inside Joel, paint me white inside. Cum inside my pussy, please,” you beg.

He moans as he calls your name, giving you a couple more thrusts before he paints the insides of your thighs white with hot ropes of cum, throwing his head back as he revels in the ecstasy of filling you up with his seed, claiming you as his own.

He pulls out and twists you around, collapsing on his back against the velvet couch while you fall into his chest, his meaty hands holding you tight around the waist while you both come down from your intense orgasmic high. The room smells like sex and sweat, hints of vanilla and cherry flavored lips lingering around the room. It smells like heaven, Joel’s heaven.

Through the sounds of rushed breaths and tired bodies, he reaches up and hooks a strand of loose hair behind your ear, lingering his calloused fingers against your jawline while he assesses the beautiful starlights in your eyes. He thinks you’re the most gorgeous girl he’s ever laid eyes on, and now you’re all his.

You look at him just the same, memorizing the flecks of dark honey that make up his bright eyes, dragging your fingertips through his salt-and-pepper scruff, letting your other hand glide through his messy tousled curls. He may be your bodyguard who works for you, but now he’s so much more than that. He’s yours, and you’ll never let him go now.

“Still think this was a bad idea?” you ask with a raised brow, challenging him to say anything but yes.

“Too late for asking me that, sweetheart. I changed my mind. You’re jus’ what I needed,” he smiles, the flecks of his eyes shimmering amber as your own eyes sparkle with bliss.

“Glad you came around,” you giggle as he drags his fingers up and down your jawline softly.

“All ‘cause of a fuckin’ broken zipper. You know I can’t stop now, sweetheart? One taste of you and now I’m hooked. Afraid I can’t let you go now.”

You lean into his chest, giving him your best dreamy smile as you trace the ends of a tousled greying curl. “Then don’t. Be mine, Joel.”

“I’m all yours, sweetheart. All yours,” he whispers before he cups your face and brings your head down, meeting the plush of his lips as he kisses you nice and slow.

You melt into him, parting your lips so he can slot his way in, tangling his tongue with yours as you taste yourself in his mouth. You stay like that for minutes, getting lost in his soft touch, his musk, his dreamy eyes. You never want to leave this trailer, never want to be parted from Joel. The only question is, how will you ever be able to keep your hands off him in public?

You lean your head into the crevice of his neck, nestling up to his soft scruff that smells like him. You sigh and tangle your fingers with his while he holds you close to his side. “Guess we won’t see any more performances tonight?”

“I don’t know, baby,” he chuckles underneath you. “Think we need a shower and some food. Maybe take you for round two afterwards. But it’s up to you. We can either stay here or go watch more of the sets tonight. Whatever you want.”

You think it over, but ultimately decide on his first offer. “Mmm, I think I’ll go with the first pick. Rather be here with you, in your arms, where it feels right.”

He sighs, lingering a soft kiss on your cheek as he pushes back a falling curl. “Okay, beautiful. That’s what we’ll do then. You want pepperoni pizza? That’s your favorite, right?”

“Mhm,” you nod. “Sounds perfect.”

He chuckles, the chocolate flecks glistening in his pretty eyes. He looks so dreamy, almost unreal that he's underneath you, his skin glowing from the sight of you. “I’ve wanted you for so long, sweetheart. Can’t believe this is actually happening.”

“I feel the same, Joel. Thought you might’ve caught on sooner with all the flirting I’ve been doing, especially up on stage. I might love getting a crowd pumped up, but there’s nothing more I love than making you blush at the side of the stage.”

He tips his head back and laughs, his voice all deep and gravelly as he flicks his eyes back to you. “Oh, I caught on, darlin’. Figured you were tryin’ to get a reaction out of me, and you did. Now look at us,” he teases, cupping your chin with the palm of his large hand, causing tingles to run down your spine.

“Yeah, just look at us. A pop star and a bodyguard getting off on each other. Thought it’d only happen in my dreams,” you sigh, propping yourself up with your elbow on his sweat covered broad chest.

“Well, baby, it’s real. It happened. Reckon you’re mine now, yeah?”

Your eyes perk up, a huge smile glistening across your shiny lips as you nod your head. “I’m all yours, Joel. As long as you’ll have me.”

“Baby, I ain’t ever gonna let you go now. You’re all mine, and I’m gonna spend my days protectin’ and lovin’ this pretty pop star. That’s what you are, baby. You’re my shining star.”

“And you’re my knight in shining bodyguard,” you giggle.

“Mhm, sure am, doll. And I don’t plan on ever lettin’ you go.”

You fold back into his chest, pressing your lips hungrily against his. Eventually he carries you to the shower, helps wash off all the sweat and slick from earlier, until he takes you to your bed and makes love to you all over again. And it continues throughout the whole night, until both of you are passed out in each other's arms.

This is where you belong, in the arms of your fierce protector, your handsome bodyguard that you’re head over heels for. Your favorite brown eyed keeper.

Tags: @laramc-02 @amyispxnk @sawymredfox @burntheedges @vivian-pascal

@littlevenicebitch69 @keylimebeag @msjarvis @akah565 @milla-frenchy

@aurorawritestoescape @alltheirdamn

#joel miller #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel x female reader #joel the last of us #no outbreak!joel miller #no outbreak au #tlou fanfiction #joel miller pedro pascal #bodyguard!Joel #joel miller one shot #protective joel

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chrissdollie · 5 months ago

Text

rapper!chris x singer!reader hcs

a/n: lowkey a collab with @bambi-slxt bc of all the headcanons she sent me LMAOO thank u sweets!! <3

SFW

chri$ is definitely one of the more "soft" rappers. everyone knows that hes a lovesick puppy for you. he doesnt have ONE line including the words "my bitch". instead he replaces them with "my girl" OR "my wife" :((

i think he would 100% make an album fully dedicated to you. kinda like tyler the creator's "call me if you get lost" in a way. for example, in the song "HEAVEN TO ME", tyler explains his dreams. chris would rap about all of the things he wants to do with you and how he sees you in his life forever

he has many features on peace on the beach with my peach since its partially about your guys' sweet relationship! theres moments in the record where there are beautiful beats paired with your heavenly vocals and cute voice cracks while chri$ is dropping barssss (ill make a post ab lyrics i think he'd add)

sososososo supportive of your creative journey. he was with you as you wrote and planned out your extremely personal debut. he even helped out at the studio :c

but then you started adventuring some time after your 2nd-3rd album. you started experimenting with different genres/styles. you created storylines and visuals along with your music.

out of the two of you, chri$ is definitely more famous. anyhow, he got invited to the met gala and had u has his plus one obviously, where you both looked drop dead gorgeous!! i literally cannot see him wearing a basic ass suit and tie to the met. he has to be on your level and match your uniqueness which make you two stand out so much!

when you both got up the steps, he was being interviewed by emma chamberlin, who was also a fan of his. she asked about the creative process of his newly released album and he totallyy put you in the spotlight, saying "yn helped me a lott honestly. she's... literally a genius." he grins, turning to you while keeping his hand on your waist.

you guys like toying with the paparazzi when they're bothering you. you goofballs make silly faces right in the cameras so they back off

one time when you were being interviewed, your sweet boy wrapped his arms around your waist as he listened to you talk. you were a little nervous and stuttered a bit, but chris consoled you by rubbing small circles into your waist and whispering a gentle "it's okay baby" to your ear.

you fangirl on stage when you catch your boyfriend's eyes in the front row. sometimes you entirely stop what you're singing just to giggle and squeal "hiiii honey!!" while twirling your hair like a little girl. the audience cheers with screams when they realize chris is with them in the crowd-- but feels like its only you two in the stadium when he blows you a kiss (some corny shit he never thought he'd do) and mouth the words "i love you".

for the holidays, u two visit homeless shelters and childrens hospitals and perform for everybody <3

imagine just hanging out at the studio with him and your guys' friends. he's manspreading on a leather couch while massaging your feet resting in his lap as you write lyrics in your lap, your friends helping you out as you do.

you knew that somewhere down the line there was going to be some kind of beef. a popular rapper decided to call out chris for something he did years ago as a literal child. you both ignore it until he sends out a tweet about you. something around, "nd his bitch bad asf id hit fs but she a fuckin weirdass childish mf"

you ignore the fact he called u a "weirdass childish mf", you cant care less, many people dont vibe with ur ideas and thats okay!

u do however care about how his girlfriend would react to seeing him wanting to fuck you. and you'd met her before too, she was a little snobbish, but respectful nonetheless. you joked to your boyfriend about dropping your own diss track on him, but he actually seem intrigued. you shut it down almost immediately though, you didn't wanna make something small such a big deal

but at the next big event you guys went to, you found the rapper's girlfriend and showed her his tweet. she thanked you with a furious scowl on her face before she ran off and slapped the shit out of him in front of everybody

chris gets a custom made $5k chain that has ur name and little details that remind him of u around it :((

NSFW

speaking of that chain, he wears it whenever he pounds into you so you'll be reminded of how he's yours.

chris loves ur vocals so much on stage! he finds them beautiful, but he loves them even more in bed.

"cmon mama lemme hear that pretty voice"

in fact, you two created a song just to have playing in the background while you two get intimate

chris audio recorded him eating u out once and you saying, "oh, fuck chris, it's so good!" and he decided to use that as an adlib in his favorite songs OR disses he wrote about someone being a jerk to u

watching chris perform did things to you. seeing him sweat, brushing his gorgeous hair out of his face, putting in so much energy into his performance... it's intoxicating! sometimes you wish he'd just drop the mic, pull you onstage, and make love to you infront of the world.

he talks about marrying you while he's balls deep inside of your wet cunt :( saying how he wants to drop a humongous bag on your ring, give you the wedding of your dreams, and how he desperately wants to hear "missus sturniolo" from others' mouths

chris will totally pop up behind stage after a show and guide you to your dressing room not so subtly. you apologize to your manager before rushing to your private room like a giddy teenager. "wanna see her sweetheart, she wet for me righ' now? oh, there she is.." he coos as he bends down to his knees right in front of your pussy when you pull down your pretty pink stage costume.

@leah-loves-lilies @1everythingmustgo @star-sturn @junnniiieee07 @mattsneezing @freshloveee@freshsturns@emma4eva @r6diosturns @matthasmywholeheart @donthugmeimhot @blahbel668 @chrissturnsss @joanofarcily @mattscoquette @slutsturn @sturnioloremarker @ashley9282828 @jnkvivi @sturncakez @lanasturn @riasturns @st7rnioioss @strnlxlqve @starlace111 @mattsfavbigtitties @stvrlighht

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #𐔌　♡ 　˚₊ ⭐🎀 singer!reader　₊˚ ⊹#singer!reader x chris sturniolo #singer reader x chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #the sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x yn #chris sturniolo x y/n #chris sturniolo x girly reader #chris sturniolo hcs #chris sturniolo headcanons

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forwhomthewordsflow · 3 months ago

Text

The Start of Something New

modern music teacher eddie munson x art teacher fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: just fluff…lotsa fluff

author’s note: i’m still new to this whole author thing so please be gentle!!! also, i’d totally be into making this a series if you guys are into that…

word count: 3.4k

If you had asked him five years ago if he thought he’d ever set foot back into this shithole ever again, under any circumstances, Eddie would’ve told you to fuck right off. But alas, here he was, grading papers in his classroom during his grading period. Yes, that’s right folks. Eddie Munson – resident town freak – is now a proud music teacher at Hawkins High School. Who would’ve thought? Certainly not Eddie. Or anyone else for that matter. But apparently all it took was a mandatory Music History 101 class that he was forced to take in community college, and he was hooked. Eddie tried as hard as he could to hate the class, but he couldn’t help the fact that he had a natural gift for the subject. Begrudgingly, Eddie Munson earned his first A+ ever, and an invitation to join the class for another semester as a TA. He couldn’t believe it, but he said yes. And so began the long and surprisingly painless journey of a town freak turned teacher.

Eddie still sometimes wonders how he ended up here. He recalls his days of detention and lunch-time table speeches like it was yesterday, wishing he could walk right out of class and never come back. But, he figures that if he has the chance to be the teacher that he never had for another kid just like he used to be, then he should probably fucking take it. The job isn’t necessarily all bad. Sure, the pay isn’t great and dealing with parents can be a bit of a shitshow, but Eddie still manages to find himself having fun while he’s at work. The kids he teaches are pretty damn awesome, and he honestly really likes spending his days hanging out with them and teaching them about music. But even after all the great students and the sweet vacation time he gets each year, his most favorite part about his job is you.

You, the brand new, drop-dead gorgeous art teacher here at Hawkins High. Eddie couldn’t believe his luck when he met you towards the end of July during orientation. He likes to think he has an above-average amount of game when it comes to women, but it’s as though every ounce of cool-ness was sucked out of his body as soon as he entered into your vicinity. Eddie cringes as he thinks back to your very first meeting, where he opened up with a very smooth, “So…you come here often?”

And even though that moment plays on a continuous “you suck” reel in his mind, your sweet, shy giggle that came afterwards makes it all worth it. He still remembers the blush on your cheeks, the smell of your perfume, and the sparkles on the inner corners of your eyes that made it damn near impossible for him to look away. You had been kind to Eddie that day, willing to look past his stupid idiot boy self and explain to him that it was your first day on the job and that you had moved here from the city. Eddie had managed to ramble out a few more mismatched words to you as he was staring at your pretty smile and the smattering of freckles on your nose before he was rudely interrupted by the beginning of orientation. Eddie didn’t see much of you after that until right before the start of the school year, when teachers have a week or two to say goodbye to summer and set up their classrooms before the first day of school. He had just finished putting his records back up on display when he figured it was time for a little break. He meandered down the halls under the guise of stretching his legs, when really he was just trying to see which classroom the new, beautiful art teacher was given. And of course, because the universe apparently has it out for him, he found you on the complete opposite side of the school from him. Eddie smiled at the way you had decorated your door, made to look like an artist’s palette. He wondered if you’d made each individual part by hand, and how long it had taken you to piece each one together on your door. The idea that he’d probably rarely ever cross paths with you throughout the year is what led to his face back and forth pacing in the hallway while he thought of a plan. You’d think that they’d put the art teacher a bit closer to the music teacher as they were both considered “electives,” but fate has a nasty way of fucking things up for Eddie. Nevertheless, Eddie was determined to find ways to bump into you. He was on a mission for a first impression do-over, this time featuring cool-sexy-funny Eddie instead of the awkward and embarrassing version of himself that you met during orientation. He was going through his mental stash of one-liners to open up with, and unfortunately, was not paying attention to where he was walking. Just as Eddie went to turn around and continue on with his hurried pacing, he bumped into someone…hard. He heard a squeak, a splash, and a gasp as his brain tried to catch up with what his eyes were seeing. There you were, so beautiful, so angelic, so…wet? Eddie steps back in horror as he realizes that his clumsiness has resulted in you spilling what looks like paint water all down the front of your shirt.

“Oh no! Oh shit, I- I’m so sorry! I wasn’t even looking where I was going – shit, fuck – I’m so fucking sorry holy shit –” Eddie rambled on in a panic induced frenzy while you stared up at him in shock, clutching the now empty water cup in your hand. Eddie stilled as he felt your other hand graze his arm – holyfuckingshit you’re touching him!!! – in an attempt to calm him down.

“Eddie! I promise, it’s totally okay!” You laughed as you said this, and Eddie felt his eyes turn into giant red hearts like they do in the cartoons. “If I freaked out every time I spilled something on myself during a project, they’d have sent me to the nuthouse a long time ago.” Your eyes widened as you realized that might’ve been a weird thing to say to this gorgeous man that you don’t know that well, but his deep chuckle calms you down immediately. You both stare at each other grinning like fools for a few moments before the icky feeling of a sopping wet shirt gets to you. You bend down to pick up the few paint brushes that had scattered on the ground, and Eddie quickly gets down onto one knee to help you.

“I uh, I’m really sorry again about this. I’m usually much cooler than this, I swear.” Eddie mentally punches himself in the dick for saying such a dumb thing. Why can’t he just operate like a normal fucking person right now? To his surprise, your adorable giggle graces his ears.

“I swear it’s really okay. I have an extra shirt in my classroom.”

At the mention of your shirt, Eddie can’t help but to sneak a peek at your body through your sopping wet t-shirt. He can just barely make out the tops of your collarbone, the outline of your tank top, the curve of your breast–

Eddie’s impure thoughts are interrupted by you standing back up and pulling at your wet shirt.

“Well, I’d better get back to it then I guess.” You look at him with a different look in your eye than what it was moments ago. It almost looked like you were waiting on him to say something. Did you want him to come with you to your classroom? Apparently he spends too long contemplating your desires because you give him a small smile and start to turn back towards your room. Eddie manages to buck up and find his inner cool-guy just in time.

“D-Do you need any help with anything?” You turn back around with a smile on your face, happy that he finally said something. “I’m known to be pretty handy, if you need any help hanging things up, building shelves…anything at all, I’m pretty good with my hands. It’s the least I can do.”

Eddie’s grin makes you clench your thighs a little, you hope he doesn’t notice. Even if you tried to speak, you’re not sure any words would come out, so you nod your head and try to fight the blush that’s blooming on your face. Eddie spots it of course, he thinks it’s adorable. You jerk your head over your shoulder, telling him to follow you, and start back to your classroom.

Eddie can’t help but to bust out a few celebratory fist pumps as he trails behind you.

Stepping into your classroom felt a lot like stepping into a different world. Eddie felt his jaw drop as he looked up and around the room at all the colorful signs and decorations you had put up everywhere. There were wooden shelves lined with more art supplies than Eddie had ever seen in his life, various paintings in different mediums hung up around the room, and a large carpet in the middle of the room that looked like someone had splattered paint all over it. After he was done taking in the wonder of the room, Eddie’s eyes landed on you standing by your desk. You watched him look around at all your hard work, and you really hoped that he liked it. You hoped he didn’t think you had overdone it or that you were trying way too hard.

“So, what do you think?” You ask nervously.

“What do I think?” Eddie responds, “I think that I would’ve killed for a classroom like this when I was in highschool. This is the coolest fucking thing ever.”

Eddie thinks your beaming smile could light up an entire town.

You look down, blushing hard. “Thank you, Eddie.”

Eddie loves the way his name sounds coming out of your mouth.

You begin to pull at your shirt a bit, the wet material making you more and more uncomfortable by the second. The cups in your hand clink together as you fumble them around, and Eddie rushes to help you.

“Here, let me help with those.”

You look up at Eddie with wide eyes, and notice he was standing quite close to you. His big brown eyes had tiny flecks of a caramel color in them, and his lips were pulled into a soft smile. God, you hope he didn’t notice you were looking at his lips.

(He totally did.)

“Oh, th-thanks.” You awkwardly dump the cups and paint brushes into Eddie’s waiting hands as he chuckles quietly. Pulling your shirt away from your body with both hands now, you spare a glance to the closet near your desk in the back corner of your classroom. “I’m just going to change into a new shirt really quick.”

Eddie blushes at the thought of seeing your bare skin. “Oh, do you want me to like, turn around o-or I can totally leave if you wanted –”

“No you’re fine, I’m wearing a tank under this.” You shoot him a small smile over your shoulder and turn to open up the double doors of the closet.

Eddie wonders if you hear his breath hitch while he prepares himself to see you in a tank top.

Inside the closet, Eddie can see jars of wrapped candies, some clothes hanging on a short rod, various school supplies, and a few blankets folded near the bottom. He thinks it’s so adorable how organized you seem to be, and wonders if it’s like that inside your home. He’s ripped away from his thoughts when you peel your wet top up and over your body, revealing a white ribbed tank top underneath. Eddie feels his heart pounding inside of his chest as he takes you in. The skin tight material of your tank top, the curve of your waist, your beautiful bare shoulders. When you turn around, Eddie’s condition intensifies. He feels his jeans get tighter at the sight of your round breasts, and the water that spilled onto your shirt must have soaked through a bit, because Eddie can just barely make out the lines of a beige colored bra underneath. Eddie suddenly coughs loudly and looks up to the ceiling, mentally scolding himself for being such a horn dog.

Of course, you had already seen Eddie ogling your chest, and you couldn’t help but to feel a little flattered and hide your smug grin as you pulled your new, dry t-shirt over your head. “There we go, good as new!”

Eddie took this as his cue to stop observing the tiny divots in your ceiling tiles. You had put on an oversized green t-shirt, and you looked absolutely adorable in it. Eddie wondered what you’d look like in one of his shirts…

“If you want, you can set those right on that empty shelf over there.” You point to his left at one of the shelves lining the wall. Eddie looks confused for a moment until he remembers he’s holding your cups and paintbrushes. He walks over to the shelf and places the items very carefully next to the other cups, turning back around to face you afterwards. You wring your hands together in front of you, struggling to meet his eyes. Why is this so hard? He’s just a guy. A very hot guy with cool tattoos, pretty hair, a dangerous smile…

Eddie tries his hardest to find a reason to hang around in your classroom with you a little longer, he can’t blow this, not when he still has so much to learn about you.

“So, why all the lamps?” Eddie begins to wander around your room, stopping to look at each of the light fixtures you’ve placed throughout the space. You wonder if he’s making fun of you, but the genuine interest on his face says differently.

“Oh, um, I sort of hate big lights.”

“Big lights?” Eddie turns to you with a grin and a soft chuckle. “What are big lights?”

You point up at the LEDs lining your ceiling. He looks up with you and realizes what you mean by ‘big lights’.

“Oh,” Eddie laughs ,”Big light. I get it now.” He takes a step closer to you and notices your chest rising and falling a bit quicker. You don’t hold eye contact for more than a few seconds before finding something to look at on one of your walls, Eddie thinks it’s adorable how shy you are right now. “I’ve always hated how…clinical they make everything look sometimes.”

“I know right?” Your small outburst surprises Eddie a bit, you’re looking him in the eyes now and he’s thinking you might not be as shy as he guessed. He’s also thinking about how goddamn beautiful your eyes are, and that he might have found his new favorite color. “I mean, I know I’ll have to turn them on for at least one or two art projects during the year, but I just feel like the softer lights make it look a lot more inviting in here, right?” Eddie nods along and can’t help but smile at how cute you are when you’re a little fired up like this. “And I’ve just read so many articles about how the harsh LED’s make it harder to focus sometimes for the kids, and some even said it can actually make them more nervous! Well, no way, not in my classroom.”

You huff and look at the ground, realizing that you might’ve been doing a little too much just now.

“Sorry. I get really passionate about the kids sometimes.”

“Hey, no way.” Eddie takes a step closer until he’s looking down at you. “I really like how obvious it is that you care so much. Some of the teachers around here seem like they couldn’t give two shits about their students. That, or they’re too goddamn old to remember how.”

A giggle bursts out of your mouth, and Eddie wishes you wouldn’t have covered your smile with your hand. He might just have to make it his life’s mission to get you to smile and giggle more.

“Seriously though, these are super cool lights in here. The kids will love them.”

“Really? You think so?” You look up at him anxiously. It’s clear to him that you’re genuinely worried about your students not liking you or your classroom, and he wishes he could take all of that anxiety off your shoulders. If he knows anything from years of working here, he knows the kids will love you.

“Yes, I do.” Eddie places a hand on your shoulder. “The kids are gonna freak out, your room is the best one in this place by far.” You smile up at him and he smiles back. He realizes that he’s touching you and pulls his hand back before he can think too much about it. He takes a step back and plucks a curl from his mane of hair to mess with, a nervous habit of his. Eddie racks his brain for an excuse to stay with you longer. He still has so much to learn about you! He wants to know your favorite color, if you listen to rock, who your favorite artist is…he needs to use his big dumb brain and think of something quickly before the lull in your conversation teeters into the realm of awkward. Suddenly, he’s hit with a stroke of genius.

“You know…” You look back up at him with a smile. You’d been hoping to God that he’d say something else to keep your conversation going. “I’ve actually been looking to spice up my one classroom a little bit.” He looks down on you with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

“Is that so?”

“Oh, yes. Definitely. I think you may be just the right person to help me, seeing as your room is decorated to perfection.” You giggle and swat your hand in front of you in an “oh, stop it” motion.

“How may I be of service?” You look up at him, batting your long lashes with your hands clasped behind your back. Eddie gulps and tries like hell not to let his mind wander too far.

“I – uh, have recently learned a few things about the evil and illusive ‘big light’,” Eddie makes air quotes around the word ‘big light’ and you giggle at how dramatic and silly he’s being, “and I find myself suddenly in need of some lamps of various shapes and sizes, similar to the ones that are displayed in this lovely room.” He makes a sweeping gesture with his muscular arm towards your lamps. Amping up the drama with you might’ve been a risk, but Eddie decides it’s paid off in full when he notices you trying, and failing, to hold back your laugh.

“I think I may be able to help with that.” You sigh and tap at your jaw in a thoughtful way. “You know, I got most of these at IKEA if you’re really in the market for some. At a fairly good price too.”

Eddie nods at this new information.

You take a tiny step closer to and look up at him through your lashes. Eddie struggles to breathe, you smell so good and you look so pretty and he really should be focusing on what you’re saying but he can’t get over how gorgeous you are –

“You might need some help finding them in there though…IKEA is huge and you wouldn’t want to get lost in there.” Are you implying what he thinks you’re implying? “I could…go with you maybe. Help you pick out a few new lamps for your room.”

Eddie is speechless. You just asked him to hangout? Outside of school? Eddie must look like a fucking idiot as he struggles to speak, and you mistake this for hesitation.

“Or–or not, if that’s not something you’d be into. I totally get it if you want to keep things professional and not meetup outside of work–”

Eddie interrupts your nervous rambling quickly. “No, no! Are you kidding? I’d love to IKEA with you! I – I mean, go to IKEA. I’d love to go to IKEA with you. Whenever you want, I’m free whenever you want.”

You let out a big breath and smile at the blush that’s blooming on Eddie’s cheeks. The two of you stand there in your classroom smiling like idiots for probably a little too long, but who cares? The gorgeous music teacher wants to take you to IKEA to shop for lamps, and you can’t help but feel like this could be the start of something really, really good.

#eddie munson #steve x eddie #em #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson!teacher #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things AU #eddie munson stranger things

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butteronabun · 5 months ago

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i just want you to take me where your heart is

a diluc ragnvindr x female reader highschool au.

overview: and who could possibly be the golden boy’s type?

wc: 2k

notes: imagine diluc with his hair down in this one. and also. diluc’s father hasn’t d-worded in this au so he’s the happy diluc we all know and love before shit hit the fan ( we still love him even after shit hit the fan tho )

Diluc Ragnvindr is prim and proper. Chivalrous and well–mannered. The star athlete of the Favonious Birds. Intelligent, a leader, and a great speaker.

And of course, he’s every girl’s dream guy.

“. . . And yet, he’s still single,” Kaeya remarks with a smirk, and his friends around him laugh in unison.

Currently, he’s eating lunch with them in the campus’ outdoor park — a place of tranquility where some students prefer to hang. Instead of being involved in the hustle and bustle of what goes on in their cafeteria, be it your average food fights or impromptu musicals incited by a certain twin–braided man, said outdoor park was a better option for these lads to unwind.

“You know, I used to think that he and Jean would look good together,” a friend of Kaeya says, and they all turn to him. “She’s just like him: elegant and grades conscious. Takes part in student governments and volunteers to school events. Plus, she’s drop dead gorgeous! With her brilliant blue eyes and smooth blond hair, oh, if I was Diluc - I would not hesitate to date her!”

“Nah, I think Lumine is better,” They all glance next to their right. “She’s sporty, and she can definitely keep up with Diluc. She aces her tests without any difficulty, despite doing a part–time job every night with her brother in a nearby coffee shop, and it’s rumored that she makes the best drinks! Moreover, she’s a beauty. That’s why she keeps on receiving loads of love letters during the Windblume Festival every year, so it will not be surprising if she’ll be getting them again!”

Ah, yes. The Windblume Festival is fast approaching—now that January is about to end, in the next two weeks, Brightcrown High School’s air will surely be filled with nothing but endless romance.

Kaeya gazes up above, where a giant tree shadows their figures with its bright green leaves. The sunlight filters through the gaps and he basks into this moment of peace. He then adds playfully, “And Diluc will be busy tidying up his locker once more, because it will be filled with chocolates and letters.”

“What?! Does he even eat them? Tell him that he can donate, you know!”

Kaeya huffs, “My brother won’t even give me a piece, what makes you think he’ll hand you one?”

He remembers the time that Diluc had been so overwhelmed by the plethora of sweets, and yet seemed so appreciative about it. Father was just proud of the older son’s popularity. Kaeya offered to help him consume them all as a joke, but Diluc shook his head vigorously, saying that he shouldn’t, and that “they all worked hard for this”, and it was right that he only eat them.

How adorable of him, really.

Plus, Diluc even read the letters one by one. No matter how cringe or sickeningly sweet they were, Diluc read them all. And Kaeya wasn’t even shocked that there was no judgment in his face.

Diluc was just grateful for the gifts. Bashful, indeed, and sometimes he was not sure what to feel, but he was grateful.

“So, Diluc. Who will it be? Jean or Lumine?” Kaeya questions with a grin that afternoon, when the Windblume Festival is finally in full swing.

Diluc raises his head from the paper he’s answering — it’s a survey given to him by one of the juniors for their research subject — and frowns. “What brought this on? Why am I suddenly choosing between two friends?”

“Oh come on, you weren’t even listening!” Kaeya pouts, before sitting on a nearby desk.

After exploring the premises for some snacks and attractions, the brothers decided to stay inside an empty classroom for a while. They can hear some cheers from the outside, loud declarations of love and squeals from the majority, that surely Diluc thinks would be a delight for Kaeya, but has opted to accompany him instead.

“I was.” Diluc purses his lips, and hears laughter echoing through the halls as students run and get chased by disciplinary officers. “You and your friends were talking about the girls and I. I just don’t understand why you want me to choose. And be careful, you might fall. Don’t move so much.”

“Cooome on, Diluc,” Kaeya groans as he leans, “We’re sixteen, aren’t we? Father says we’re at that age, after all. By that, I meant, where we’re all supposed to be dating and courting?”

Diluc feels his cheeks slightly heat up from the words that escaped from Kaeya’s mouth. He returns to his duty of answering the survey. ( As if he needed to, when he was already done. ) “And I told you countless times that I’m not interested. Need I remind you that I don’t have the time for it. You know I still have to prepare for college, and that I have to keep an eye on my varsity scholarship, and—“

“Yadda, yadda, yadda——“

“Don’t yadda me, Kaeya. That’s just how it is.”

“You seriously aren’t interested?” Kaeya prods.

Diluc shoots him a firm stare. “Absolutely positive.”

And Kaeya sticks his tongue before hopping from the desk and making his way to the door. “Fine. But don’t think you’re off the hook just yet.” Diluc watches his retreating back. “I’ll make sure to find you a lady, and it’ll be your type, and you’ll fall in love.”

Kaeya pulls the door open. He confidently says, “It’ll be inevitable, Diluc. Inevitable!”

A small smile creeps its way to Diluc’s lips, finding this all amusing. “Then I wish you the best of luck.”

Kaeya huffs, not liking that Diluc seems so smug and unbothered by it, then leaves.

Diluc waits for a while. And waits.

And waits, until he blinks, checks his survey, before sighing heavily.

A brilliant shade of red coats his pale cheeks, and he buries his face in his hands.

Dating. Courting. The type of lady Diluc likes? Yeah. Diluc already has found his type.

( Kaeya doesn’t have to know yet. He hates lying, but it’s too soon. Maybe someday. If Diluc can face his feelings first. )

So, hear, hear! He’s not missing out, in spite of what his friends say.

This person is not what everyone expects; it’s not the formal and polite Jean who can deliver a speech eloquently, nor the radiant and loyal Lumine that they want to push toward his direction.

Instead. . .it’s someone else.

And that someone else dropped a bowl of soup to Principal Varka’s white slacks. That someone else triggered the anger of a certain math teacher because she climbed the roof so carelessly during class to fly a kite. That someone else got into detention and instead of writing I’ll be good from now on one hundred times, spent the day with the others in that session to tell ghost stories.

That someone else was you, who wasn’t like Jean or Lumine. That someone else was you—the you, who was his exact opposite, and yet managed to capture his heart.

You are one of Mond High’s known troublemakers, and apparently, he has fallen victim to your charms.

Maybe it began when you were just snickering with your buddies in the library despite the librarian‘s persistent shushing. He was solving his quadratic formula worksheets back then, and he was impressed that even if you were fooling around, you were in the library to actually learn more about the cardiovascular system, with the help of a fellow friend.

(“I will be proud to say that the one that carries the blood away from the heart is. . . arteries!”

“You’re right!”

“Yay!!”

“Shh!”)

Or maybe it began when you witnessed that one student who humiliated himself by accidentally slipping on the wet floor in the cafeteria, and everyone sans Diluc laughed. Then you came to his rescue, marching in the middle with all the attention on you.

You didn’t offer your hand.

But you purposefully slipped instead, and even had the most embarrassing fall. The cafeteria became noisier because of you, and Diluc, baffled at first, found himself chuckling soon after.

Actually, no.

He didn’t fall in love with you during those times. These were the times in his life that led to this one very moment—

When the Favonious Birds lost the tournament, Diluc was sulking in the playground, all by himself. He took the blame despite Kaeya and his friends denying it, but he knew better. If Diluc had just made it quickly to the ring, their team could’ve been victorious and brought the trophy home.

But alas, it was just an if. It didn’t happen.

Then, something wet drops in his hair. Then his arm. And nose. It was about to rain, and Diluc just grunted, not caring one bit. He was sure Adelinde would make a fuss about it, or his father would pester him for his carelessness, but he wasn’t in the mood to leave his spot just yet.

Let the rain wash away his sorrows.

Pitter–patter. Pitter–patter. Pitter–patter. Pitter–patter.

“Don’t match with the gloomy weather now.”

Diluc slowly lifted his head, wondering who spoke and what covered his pathetic and hunched form that was wallowing in despair. And his eyes grew wide when he saw you, almost bending with an umbrella in hand, sheltering you and him from the incoming downpour.

You smiled down at him, “There it is. Keep your head up, King! Your crown is falling.”

And Diluc’s heart skipped a beat the same time a thunder rumbled from the distance. “W–what. . . ?”

You continued, “I don’t know what got you all so sad, but everything will be fine soon! I’m sure of it! After all, once the rain passes, there will be a rainbow!” Then, you grabbed his cold and even bigger hand, and Diluc, at that split second, felt the static. You didn’t even react. But your hand was warm, and Diluc’s chest was, too.

Dumbfounded, he let you guide his fingers. It only came to him long after that he was gripping a metal handle. “Have my umbrella! I hope this will make your day a little better, and if it doesn’t. . . well, at least I tried. But I have to go now!”

You quickly put the hood over your head when the rain grew stronger. Diluc, concerned over your well–being, finally regained his composure to protest. “But what about you— hey. . . !”

He watched you run and wave, bidding farewell. “You don’t have to return it to me! It’s all yours! I really have to go, so see you, maybe? Bye!”

“But. . . !”

And Diluc. . . Diluc could catch you if he wanted. He could sprint and return the umbrella to its rightful owner, but he didn’t.

Instead, he remained in his position.

And his heart— oh, his heart. His heart couldn’t stop pounding that day.

You are Diluc’s first love.

That is established.

The thing is, this is a secret. No one knows yet. Just him.

He’s never felt this towards anyone before. You are his first.

( And hopefully the last. )

You’re different from everyone else. You’re different from him. You have your own unique methods of doing things. You have your own way of paving your path. You are the artist to your own canvas; the director of your own film.

You are like the sun. You brighten everyone’s day with your presence, and you also shine, because Diluc can’t keep his eyes off of you whenever you’re in the vicinity.

He knows that this is really an unexpected outcome – him, who was definitely out of your league and vice versa, catching feelings for someone like you.

( Someone like you who is free in life, and Diluc wants to feel that, even just for a bit, with you. )

But like before, all he can do is merely daydream and wonder about the what–ifs. What will it be like to be your friend? Will he experience all the shenanigans that you ensue? Will he also fly a kite with you? Will he get into detention?

Yet this is unbecoming. Improper. Inappropriate for someone like him—for the eldest son of the Ragnvindrs and for the next heir of the winery. He can’t indulge into lighthearted affairs or mischief. He’s supposed to be responsible and disciplined. A man of propriety.

So all he can ever do is have these thoughts. Just thoughts. He has more important matters to attend to, like college applications, training, lessons in handling the in winery business. . .

And . . . there’s no way that you’ll approach him again, right?

Diluc knows to himself that can do it instead, you know. He can approach you if he must, but . . . he’s just so shy.

And a lot of people are always around you. So who is he to burst your bubble, when you seem so finally content with your life?

Diluc peeks from the open windows and sees couples holding hands and sharing kisses. Briefly, he imagines what it would be like to experience romantic love during Windblume.

He feels his cheeks steam again.

Kaeya will surely have a field day once he sees his older brother being lovesick like this.

You really are one of Mond High’s troublemakers. And it’s not only because you prank your friends or piss off the teachers, but you make it hard for him to focus.

Just thinking of you never fails to make his heart perform somersaults.

He is Diluc Ragnvindr. Prim and proper. Chivalrous and well–mannered. The star athlete of the Favonious Birds. Intelligent, a leader, and a great speaker.

He is not every girl’s dream guy.

Because unfortunately, the girl he likes doesn’t even see him in a romantic light.

#diluc x reader #melted.butter #WRITING DEBUT!!!#listened to take me where your heart is while revising this #agjdjd i just love diluc so much #i would like to write more of this concept since i can’t draw it LOL #many thanks to all my friends who supported me for my cringe ahh diluc simping #and now i’m gonna write fics abt him #diluc writers and lovers feel free to interact with me <3

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cooliestghouliest · 11 months ago

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THE MIDDLE BEDROOM

PAIRING: established Billy/Reader relationship, bff!Eddie is a Peeping Tom

TAGS and C/W’s: this is basically just smut (which means 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), pining undertones, oral (f!receiving), Billy's filthy mouth, SPIT, Eddie's a pervert but Billy's kinda setting him up so really Eddie is just advantageous, m!masturbation, unprotected PiV

WORD COUNT: 3.4k+

A/N: hi, my friends!!! this is a rewrite/repost and has been edited for a (hopefully) smoother, more enjoyable read. basically, i’m trying to revamp everything i’ve published in hopes that an inspiration bug crawls deep, deep inside me and just fucking explodes, leaving only creativity and motivation to replace all of my blood and oxygen. it’s almost 2024, who needs to bleed and breathe anyway??? please remember that likes are greatly appreciated, but comments and reblogs are what make the writer’s world go round. :-) <33

—

It happened at Rick Lipton's annual Halloween party. '86, baby.

There were many nameless faces wandering about the bungalow, all in varying states of sobriety. Eddie only recognized a handful of people, one of them being Billy Hargrove... and the other being you, Eddie's best friend, but also Hargrove's drop-dead, knock-the-fuck-out gorgeous girlfriend.

Eddie had overheard someone guess that you were dressed as a witch. Someone else guessed that you were dressed as Stevie Nicks. With a shrug, you'd answered, "Those are the same thing," like it was the most obvious certainty in the entire world.

You were in a sheer black off-the-shoulder maxi dress, the form-fitting fabric tight in all the right places. There was a long, gracious slit down the side that ran from hip to foot. When you moved in a certain way, Eddie could see that you were wearing black suede thigh-high boots, a little kitten heel clicking against the hardwood floors as you walked.

Right up to him.

"Hi, Eddie," you'd greeted with a smile, eyes wide and welcoming. You swirled the train of your dress a bit, swaying along to some Joni Mitchell song playing in the background. "Happy Halloween."

Eddie didn't get the chance to answer, though he was sure he'd have ended up stumbling over his words anyway, because you just looked so pretty tonight. He was only able to return the smile before Billy appeared beside you.

"Hey, man," Hargrove prompted, Eddie watching as the honey blonde rested lucky fingers on the small of your back. The other palm extended to clap Eddie on the shoulder a few times. "You bring it?"

"Yeah, it's just... uh..." Eddie dug his hand around in the front pockets of his jeans, then in the back pockets of his jeans, then eventually found what he was looking for in the pocket of his denim jacket, bypassing a broken button to reach for the little baggie in question.

As he was about to pull it out, Billy’s hand gripped his forearm, halting him. "Not here," Hargrove instructed. He stepped an inch closer to Eddie, voice lowering to just above a whisper. Eddie had to dip his head forward to try and hear the blonde over the music and commotion around them. "Come upstairs. Like fifteen minutes. Middle bedroom." At Eddie's confused expression (they were at a Halloween party thrown by Hawkins' most profitable drug dealer, for fuck's sake -- who the hell would care about a little coke?), Billy fashioned him a grin, stepping back. "Don't need everybody knowing my business and shit, ya know?"

Eddie guessed that was a decent enough explanation, so he shrugged the absurdity off. He'd always thought Billy was a little weird, anyway. And coming from Eddie Munson, the biggest fucking weirdo of all, that characterization spoke volumes.

After that, you and Billy disappeared. Eddie had followed the tail-end of your dress until you were lost in a sea of strangers, then decided to try and push the rest of the weed he had onto other partygoers, wanting to leave tonight with his current debt to Rick paid and his lunch box full of fresh goodies for the new month ahead.

It was exactly fifteen minutes later that Eddie began his ascent of the stairs to Rick's second floor. He weaved in and out of groping couples, stepped over sleeping Lettermen, and gave a tight-lipped smile to a group of girls that stumbled out of the bathroom and slammed right into him. He stepped to the side, giving them the right of way, before crossing the hallway to his destination: the middle bedroom.

The door was shut, so Eddie knocked. Waited a few seconds, then knocked again.

Still with no answer, he took a large step back, surveying the other doors around him to verify he hadn't gotten turned around and was in fact standing in front of the right room, which he was.

Eddie huffed a sigh. He glanced around the hallway again, checking to see if maybe Hargrove was just running late, but there was no blonde mullet in sight.

Figuring Billy must have been inside and was just... busy or something (actively ignoring him? suddenly gone deaf?), Eddie brought his hand to the knob to twist it and enter.

The room was mostly dark. Not exactly pitch black, thanks to a streetlight seen through the big bay window, but still dark enough that Eddie needed to blink rapidly several times to adjust his eyes to the new lighting.

His immediate thought was that Billy must have either forgotten to meet him up here or had ditched the party entirely and left the dealer packing with a now homeless dimebag of blow.

Off to the right, however, was a thick slab of pale-yellow light emanating from a partially closed door. It was the bathroom, which Eddie knew from sleeping in this very bedroom more than a handful of times since first meeting Rick Lipton a few years back.

And that’s when Eddie started to hear it.

Or, as he would soon come to find out, hear you.

He had at first mistaken the quick, soft breaths of air for sounds of pain or distress, which was why he'd begun inching towards the bathroom in the first place.

But now, standing in the shadow of the ajar door, he was able to peek inside. At the sight before him, Eddie felt his eyes widen, and a prickling warmth started to spread throughout his body.

Those were definitely not sounds of pain or distress.

Billy sat kneeled in front of where you were currently spread out on the bathroom counter. Your knees were hiked up towards your chest, your dress laying in a heap on the ground, and you were left only in a bright red bra. And those goddamn suede thigh-highs.

He should have walked away right then, he knew that. He was going to, really, but then you arched your back, your head falling lax behind you, and the fucking obscene moan you let out had Eddie biting down so hard on his bottom lip that he tasted blood.

How was he supposed to leave now?

He couldn't help himself.

You were just... you.

Thoughtful, generous, creative. You went out of your way to ensure no one ever felt judged or left out; you were known to drop everything without debate in order to help anyone who really needed it; you let him host Hellfire in your basement when the club needed a new location in a pinch, and even helped him plot twists in his campaigns.

Truly, Eddie had a very hard time seeing what you saw in that prick Billy Hargrove, but that was something to ponder at a later point. Because right now, Eddie was getting to see you in a position he'd only ever dreamed of seeing you in.

When would he ever get this chance again?

Eddie refused to think too deeply into this, deciding to pretend he didn't have a moral compass for a bit. It was probably bad. Likely even made him a pervert, but he'd been called much worse, so he figured he'd just add this one to the list now, too.

He wasn't exactly sure how he was going to be able to face either one of you again, but his feet just weren't working when his brain tried to tell them to move, and now his cock was starting to fill out the confines of his jeans in a way that had him seeking the relief of the doorframe, his hips acting of their own accord, finding a slow, rocking rhythm.

Billy had his palms splayed out on either side of your inner thighs, holding your legs open. Eddie quickly grew irritated that he couldn't see exactly what the blonde's tongue was doing. He thought that if he couldn't be the one with his own face buried against you, he wanted to at least have an unobstructed, close-up view.

He wanted to see Hargrove's lips wet with your slick, wanted to watch them wrap around your aching clit and suck until you tried to push him away. If Eddie could, he'd hold your arms down while Billy devoured you, wanting you to feel so much pleasure it was borderline painful.

He was pulled out of his fantasy by the sound of Billy's voice, raspy and teasing. "Love when you give me this sloppy fucking cunt," he said, the words themselves demeaning but his tone singing nothing but praises. Billy lowered his head back down, giving you a few long, loud licks.

Eddie knew he himself could be theatrical, but Billy Hargrove was dramatic in his own ways, and it did certainly seem like the blonde loved to hear the sound of his own voice. Apparently, eating pussy and its associated noises fell under this umbrella of Hargrove Histrionics.

Billy pulled his head back to spit several times on your well-loved cunt. Eddie didn't dare to blink as the other man brought two fingers to spread your lips and spit again, this time with your hardened nub as target. Both him and Billy watched intently as the saliva dripped slowly down your slit, past your empty hole, and leaked off of you entirely to darken an already present wet spot on Hargrove's blue jeans.

And fuck, you loved it.

With each assault of Billy's spit, you let out faint little gasps (fucking cute, Eddie had thought), body jolting at the contact, your eyes fluttering open and shut as the moisture filled in every curve of your core.

"So fucking messy, aren't you?" Billy taunted, his free hand moving to palm at his clothed length. Eddie was relieved to see Hargrove finally begin to touch himself, honestly impressed at the self-control the blonde had to disregard his pleasure and focus solely on yours. "Makes it feel so good when I finally fuck this thick cock inside you," he continued, unzipping his jeans as he stood. "You think this pussy's ready to soak me?"

Eddie felt like his skin was boiling. He wished he could eliminate some layers. Or all layers, preferably.

You were staring earnestly up at your boyfriend, a desperate pout on your face as you nodded in vigor. "Please, Billy," you begged, and Eddie couldn't take it any longer. He needed to fist his cock raw, having had enough of this grinding against the wall bullshit.

At the same time Billy dropped his jeans, Eddie did the same, pulling himself out of his boxer briefs. He muffled a groan of relief by biting down on the knuckles of his free hand, his other wrapping around the girth of his dick and just squeezing. He didn’t want to give in before Billy had gotten inside you.

The blonde sure was taking his sweet fucking time though, only wetting his length by sliding himself repeatedly between your lips. You were whining, and Eddie could tell you were trying to angle your hips in such a way that it would trip Billy up and he would slip inside. Good girl, get that fucking cock, Eddie thought, impatient and eager to cum, but not wanting to do so without first catching a glimpse at what you looked like stuffed and fucked full.

"Hmm, I dunno," Billy provoked, tapping his cock against your cunt with loud slaps. "Feels really good just like this, baby. Maybe I'll use the outside to fuck myself instead, cum all over this pretty little pussy, make an even bigger mess. You want that?"

You and Eddie both shook your heads at the same time.

You gave a grumble of annoyance (more of like a testy whimper, really) and brought a hand up to slap playfully at Billy's chest. "Fuck me, Billy," you demanded, your voice throaty and yearning. You dropped the hand at his chest to circle his cock, wrapping delicate fingers around his own and helping to stroke. "Need it inside."

"Oh, you need it, greedy girl?" It appeared he was going to listen to you, much to yours and Eddie's respite, because he lined himself up against your hole with one hand, the other moving to wrap around the nape of your neck. "I didn't know that. I gotta give my girl what she needs then. Can't have anyone thinking I don't take care of you."

Finally -- finally -- Eddie watched as Billy took one thrust to bury his cock inside you completely, the blonde releasing a loud, lewd moan. Eddie gave his own throbbing, sweat-slick length the same treatment, fucking into his fist from tip to base until he felt his tightening balls press against his twitching fingers.

You looked better stretched open than Eddie could have ever imagined -- a natural flush glowed on your skin, your bottom lip tugged tight between your upper teeth, your brows furrowed deep.

Your eyes rolled back as Billy began to move, a satisfied moan escaping your lips at the pace he was setting. The sound, contented yet desperate, was music to Eddie's ears. He wanted to record it and hear it on loop -- as a wake-up call, an afternoon pick-me-up, a bedtime lullaby.

Your hands moved to rest on either side of the surface of the sink below you, supporting your weight as Billy rocked into you with long, languid thrusts. Eddie tried to match Hargrove's pace with the stroke of his hand, envisioning it was his own cock giving you exactly what you needed.

You must have felt fucking good to be buried deep inside of, because Billy, always with something to say, was awfully quiet now.

He watched the other man's face through the reflection in the mirror, saw as Billy's baby blues fervently took in the sight underneath him, knowing he himself would be donning the same expression if positions were switched. Eddie knew Hargrove was admiring your perfect tits bouncing with the force of each thrust, knew he was lost in the dissipated doe-eyes that stared back up at him like he hung the fucking moon, when in reality he was just feeding your cunt some very well-deserved cock.

When your mouth dropped open unprompted, your pink tongue sticking out as far as it could go, that was the beginning of the end for Eddie. Both men knew exactly what you were asking for. Hargrove smirked approvingly at the sight before him, and he slowed the speed of his hips for better accuracy. He gathered as much saliva in his mouth as he could before leaning over you, parting his lips and letting gravity do its job.

Once your mouth was filled, Billy brought a hand to your jaw, forcing it shut. "Don't swallow," he instructed, his thrusts no longer slow and unhurried, but now posthaste and unrelenting.

Eddie could feel the familiar tingle in his lower abdomen, alerting him that his release was maybe a minute away. He fleetingly realized that he was going to have to very quickly clean his upcoming mess and get the hell out of the room before he was caught, but his attention was reeled back in when he heard a series of deep, breathless grunts.

"Okay, shit... spit it out now, baby," Billy was muttering, speech rushed, his head dipped to stare unwaveringly at where your bodies connected. "Oh fuck, spit on my fucking cock."

Eddie watched as you leaned yourself forward, angling your head down to release the spit you'd been holding in from your mouth, just adding to the noisy wetness between your legs.

And that did it. The visual — someone as soft and sweet as you doing something so filthy — had Eddie's toes curling in on themselves in his gym shoes, his hand pulsating around his cock to mimic a clenching cunt as he fucked himself into it. His release spilled out over his fist, dampening the ground below him and the bathroom doorframe. He saw stars.

Billy had followed Eddie right off the brink, muttering praises and obscenities interchangeably as you both came down from your highs. "Listen so well, dirty fucking girl. Always make me cum so hard, fuck, this pussy's so fucking full of me right now."

The sound of the quiet giggles urged out of you by Billy's tickling kisses on your neck were what brought Eddie back to the present reality. He wasn't back at home watching the hottest fucking porno he'd ever seen -- no, he was actually standing in a dimly lit bedroom, covered in his own cum, having just spied on his best friend while she got railed by her boyfriend.

Shit.

Eddie's moral compass came back with a vengeance. He cringed as he rubbed his sticky fingers on the inside of his band tee to clean them, not wanting anyone to catch a glimpse of crusty white as he made his getaway. He found a towel in a laundry basket and wiped away any remnants of his release from the wall and floor, then tossed it back into the hamper.

Not even able to glance back into the bathroom, his skin now heated from shame and embarrassment rather than arousal, Eddie buttoned up his jeans and hurried out of the room, ready to try and forget that all of that just happened.

About ten minutes later, he was perched against his van about a block from Rick's, where he'd parked. He was smoking a cigarette, having finally began to cool off and calm down. If he tried hard enough, he was sure he could convince himself this was all a really vivid hallucination, and maybe he'd be able to compartmentalize his moment of perversion that way.

He just needed to stay away from the two of you for a little while.

But then, because of course...

"Munson!"

Eddie quietly groaned, taking a deep drag off his cigarette to quell his already rapidly growing nerves from just the sound of the other man's voice alone. He turned to face Billy, plastering what he hoped was an easygoing grin on his face.

"Hey, man," Eddie greeted, his voice surprisingly steady.

Billy held his hands up in a 'What the fuck?' kind of way, brows furrowed. "Thought we had a plan," the blonde replied, stopping just a foot away from the tall metalhead. One side of Hargrove's mouth lifted. He looked predatory. Eddie fought back a hard swallow. "Did you even come upstairs?"

"What..." Eddie's brain went blank at the question. Or was it an accusation? It definitely sounded like one, but Billy didn't seem mad. The blonde was just staring at him expectantly, waiting for an answer.

"Y'know," Billy continued. "Because I told you to meet me in the middle bedroom? For the coke?" What had started as the slight of a smirk had turned into a full-blown grin on Hargrove's face. "You good, Munson? Lookin' a little spooked.”

To this, Eddie sobered his expression, shaking his head. "No, just like, busy night, that's all," Eddie answered lamely. Maybe Billy really didn't know. Maybe Eddie was just hyper-paranoid about having been caught that he was reading too deeply into this. After all, wouldn't Hargrove have been pissed to find out he'd been spying? Wouldn't he already have Eddie pinned against the van, spewing threats? "Lotsa deals. Kinda forgot about yours, my bad. Here, lemme get it..."

Eddie began digging around in his pockets, having forgotten again where the coke was. He blamed the alarms of anxiety going off in his brain (thoughts like fuck, he probably knows, which means she knows, and now she's gonna fucking hate me plaguing him).

But Billy said, "Don't worry about it, I'm good. Got my energy hit a little bit ago." The blonde then looked like he had remembered something, and began looking in his own pockets, "Shit, actually. Ya know what? I have something for you."

Eddie was sure the look of confusion on his face was readable. This whole night was turning out to be a fucking fever dream. He didn't think anything else could happen to make it any more surreal.

And then Billy was reaching his hand out to give Eddie something, that I-know-something-you-don't smirk present again, and Eddie took it without looking. He just wanted Billy to walk away so he could go crawl into the back of his van and smoke himself stupid to avoid any and all realizations and repercussions.

"See you ‘round," were Billy's parting words and Eddie just nodded dumbly, mute, and watched him go.

Once Hargrove was out of sight, Eddie opened his hand. At first, it just looked like an unassuming wad of fabric, maybe a sock or something, small compared to the size of his palm.

Eddie unraveled it, holding it out in front of him, and then very quickly tossed it inside his open passenger window, eyes darting around to make sure no one had seen what Billy Hargrove had just given him —

The matching pair of panties to your bright red bra.

#billy x reader #billy hargrove x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #mungrove x reader #billy hargrove smut #eddie munson smut

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twstgarden · 9 months ago

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❀ ❝ 𝟭𝟮 𝗽𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘁𝗲𝘀 ❞

━ idia shroud x gn! persephone! reader ━ idia wonders how he got lucky with you, and everyday, he wonders if you really are there by his side and not just a figment of his imagination. (f/n means first name)(reader can be yuu or an oc)

requested by: @glass-anna11 request type: scenario requester’s message: “Hello! May I please request for fluff relationship with Idia and a Persephone-like S/O please?" florist’s note: hello, dearie! of course, i love idia, not sure if this is fluffy though. apologies~

this work does not contain spoilers for chapter 6, ignihyde’s arc.

do not steal or translate without my permission.

ko-fi here if you want to support me

idia was still not convinced that you were his. you were the epitome of perfect to him: kind, sweet, and drop-dead gorgeous. not to mention, you also can be wise and mature when you need to. the contrasts between your personality paired with the affection you gave him were enough to make him think he was dreaming.

'the gods must be playing a joke on me,' thought idia as he watched you hum a tune to yourself while making some flower crowns, seated on his carpeted floor surrounded by flowers you picked in heartslabyul's garden.

god forbid you'll ever get in trouble for that, but knowing you, you might've asked for permission before picking their flowers. his console rested on his hands while he was waiting for his game to load, his eyes stuck on your radiant beauty.

however, the sounds of his game's background music playing made him resume his concentration back on the screen, and he once again tried to distract himself. it took a few hours until he tore his gaze away from his game and noticed you were no longer in the same spot as you were before.

he wondered where you were, and as soon as he finished playing, he got out of his seat and looked around, "n/n...?"

did you leave? have you gotten bored of him? have you gotten tired of being the one to take initiative? did you find someone else that's better suited for you - someone that is not a gloomy, underworld keeper like him?

thoughts flooded his mind, and just as quickly as they came, they instantly disappeared the moment you entered the room with two cups of instant ramen in hand, pausing your tracks as you two stared at one another for a while before you smiled.

"i went to make some instant ramen while you played. i thought you might be hungry, so..." you trailed off whilst he stood there with eyes wide open as if he had seen a ghost.

"...why are you so caring?" mumbled idia, making you tilt your head a little. "what do you mean?" you asked before placing the instant ramen cup on his desk while you ate yours.

"i mean, why are you so kind to me?" asked idia once more as you paused eating your ramen and set it down, realising he was still in disbelief that someone was actually taking care of him like this no matter how much it seemed like he was not returning the gesture.

you cupped his cheeks, still smiling sweetly at him, "because i love you, idia."

love.

you love him.

he stayed silent for a moment, his thoughts running wild again as he looked into your eyes, seeing nothing but genuine feelings. he eventually held your waist - in a rather awkward manner - as he smiled a little at you.

a soft sigh left his lips, growing nervous as he was about to take the next step. with one arm around your waist, he used his free hand to reach out at the drawer behind you, opening it and grabbing something that you did not see.

"hm? what is that?" you asked, curiosity brimming your mind as you eyed his enclosed hand. he took his arm off from your waist as he gulped, placing a hand under your chin to make you look at him as he presented the candies in his hand, "would... you like some?"

thinking it was just him being nervous about offering things to you, you shrugged and smiled at him, grabbing the 12 candies in his hand as he eyed you for a bit while you spoke, "sure, thanks!"

you then looked at the candies. it was red in colour and round, just like the other hard candies that idia casually eats when he is bored. not caring about what flavour it might be, you unwrapped the treat and popped it in your mouth.

"hm... tastes... like pomegranate...?" you mumbled, making idia nervous as he spoke, "are you not fond of it?" you smiled and replied, "no, i did not mean it like that. it tastes great!"

idia sighed in relief as he smiled at you, awkwardly wrapping his arms around you once more as he said, "that's a relief... they're local candies from my hometown." you hummed in response as you continued tasting the pomegranate candies, "from the island of woe? huh, they taste great."

"yes..." trailed idia as he thought to himself, '...so they are unaware of the island of woe's tradition relating to pomegranates... how do i tell them that offering pomegranates to someone is equivalent to a declaration of love without sounding so awkward?!'

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crimsonred-hi · 9 months ago

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Controversial Age Gap - Headcanons

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne

• He would be sooo secretive about it in fear of judgement.

• let’s be honest, most of his fans wouldn’t take kindly to him having a conservatively young lass, until they meet her.

• Someone would do an interview of her, and she just acts like she’s a pensioner when she’s actually a uni student.

• If Andrew was gonna date anyone that young she would have to be an old soul. Like already mentally in a nursing home. She would be like super smart and really mature, like he wants a girl he can talk to about literature and poetry, and the fact she’s really young doesn’t mean that much when she completes him.

• Even his friends and band would be find with her, because she acts about 50. She’s always in the corner talking politics with the oldest guy in the pub, because she likes making grown men cry, because she can.

• The Fans would be shocked, because someone would get a video of him getting a quick good luck kiss before he goes on stage, or someone would get a video of them at a festival while she’s fixing his hair for him.

—> Side Rant! Talking about hair! His hair is so healthy now he has her! Like she forces him to sit his arse down once a week so she can deep clean and condition his hair. He’s getting princess treatment.

• I can imagine her running her uni essays through him before they go to her professors, and every time he’s so shocked at how smart she is. Like, he wasn’t this smart, ‘are the younger generation?’ just better he would ask himself.

• We all know he listens to everything, he’s very eclectic. He would love teaching you the blues, he also doesn’t let you play your music, only his. And if you learn his favourite songs and sing them in the car with him, he might cry.

• He’s getting you in any show you want: ya wanna to see Noah Kahan, your going: ya wanna see Lana Del Ray, your going: ya wanna see Taylor Swift, your going. Etc, etc. He’ll get you there, even if he doesn’t like the music that artist makes, he’ll bring his ear plugs and happily watch you enjoy it.

• He would be so careful about talking about you, but it’s a struggle because he’s so proud of you.

• He just thinks you’re incredible. And he wants everyone to know about it, but he’s scared people will judge him for dating someone so much younger than him.

• That jacket in the photo, I bet you think it looks good on him. He thinks it looks better on you. He thinks everything looks better on you; that green jumper he wears all the time, he thinks it looks better when you wear it.

• He loves when your at his concerts, he adores watching you sing and dance along. While everyone thinks he’s winking at them, he’s actually winking at you.

• He loves it when you lay on his chest, you’re so much smaller than him, and watching you distress with the sound of his heart is everything to him.

• She will just spout TikTok and gen z nonsense at him, she once called him ‘submissive and breed-able’ and the look of fear on his face when he turned around to look at her.

—> “what did you just call me…?” He asks his voice cracking with genuine fear, and she just laughs in his face. She just kisses his cheek and runs of giggling.

• He’s probably the first man she’s been with that has a full beard, so she kinda has a little obsession with it. All the other lads she’s dated were her own age and couldn’t grow there pwn full beards, while Andrew is looking sexy as fuck with his beard.

—> He loves when she scratches his beard, because of her obsession with his beard, he practically purrs when she scratches his beard.

—> Also his chest hair, he very rarely goes shirtless but when he does her hands are always desperately trying to get into his chest hair.

• He also gives her beard burn on her thighs and-

• I really like that photo of Andrew, he looks like a god, just me or is he the perfect Poseidon or Hades or Orpheus. Or is he just drop dead gorgeous.

#andrew hozier byrne #hozier #hozier x reader #the hoziest #hozier my beloved #hozier fluff #Hozier headcanons #headcanon

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hbyrde36 · 7 months ago

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STWG Daily Prompt 04/28/24

as chosen by our own @penny00dreadful

Fairytale✨

He was never going to find her.

Steve sighed heavily, letting his lunch tray drop to the table as he plopped down into his seat next to Nancy and Jonathan, the spot he’d been occupying ever since he’d had some sense knocked into him and dumped Tommy and Carol as friends for good.

He’d gotten a lot of funny looks for that move, not only because he’d nuked his popularity along with his friendships, but because Nancy had dumped him for Jonathan, or so the rumor mill said, and yet here he was beside them. The truth was that their uncoupling had been a mutual decision, they just didn’t care enough to correct the narrative.

But, back to Steve’s lament.

It’d been almost a week since he saw her, the mystery girl that he’d spent almost the entire Halloween Ball with. They hadn’t spoken at all, the music had been too loud for that, but they’d stuck close to each other all night, danced, shared a few laughs as they pointed out their classmates' costumes–both good and bad– and shared a brief, but earth shattering kiss in a dark corner of the gym.

Now normally, Steve wouldn’t have been caught dead at one of the school’s dances, but his high school career was rapidly coming to a close, and honestly he was just trying to get himself out there, make some better memories before he was forced to grow up and enter the adult world.

Also… Nancy and Jonathan had made him.

Then they’d ditched him to go make out in the darkroom, but that was fine, It’d all been worth it to meet—her.

Steve only stepped away for a moment to get them a couple drinks, but when he returned to their spot by the bleachers, she was gone, the only evidence that she’d ever been there at all was a ring left behind on the floor. He picked it up, remembering how she’d fiddled with them a lot, her many rings, and must have dropped this one without realizing.

He pocketed it, knowing it would be the key to finding her again.

Because, and this was his dilemma, on top of not knowing his mystery girl’s name, he also had no idea what she really looked like. While his Indiana Jones costume had left no question as to his own identity, she’d been dressed as a mummy, wrapped up in layers of gauzy fabric, only showing off her long dark curly hair, the biggest most gorgeous brown eyes he’d ever seen, and perfect pink pouty lips.

After spending the last several days combing the school, asking every brunette he came across if the ring was hers—to no avail—Steve had all but given up, assuming the girl had been someone’s friend or cousin visiting from out of town.

“What’s all this?” Steve asked, finally noticing the stack of photos Jonathan had spread out on the table around them.

Jonathan took a bite of his sandwich, answering with his mouth still half full. “group shots of all the clubs for the yearbook, I just got them developed.”

Steve pushed his own lunch away, not hungry, and pulled a few of the pictures closer to him. He wasn’t really looking, looking, there wouldn’t be anyone in those pictures he hadn’t already seem roaming the halls, or so he thought. Then he spotted a familiar piece of jewelry on the finger of someone entirely unexpected.

Eddie Munson, head of the Hellfire Club.

He reached into his pocket and pulled the ring out, keeping it hidden under the table as he looked between it and the one in the photo. Same band, same stone, same black nail polish on the hand’s fingers too.

Dark curly hair, check.

Big beautiful brown eyes, check.

Soft pouty pink lips, double check.

Okay, so, the mystery girl wasn’t a girl at all. It explained why he’d had so much trouble finding her at least.

Steve sat with that fact throughout the rest of the lunch period, and by the time the bell rang had decided that it didn’t change a thing. He wasn’t freaked out that he’d kissed a boy, he didn’t even care that it was Munson, certified freak and D&D nerd. He was a little embarrassed that he’d assumed his special someone was a girl just because he had long hair and pretty eyes, but moving past that—

Now Steve just had to woo his man.

“Hey, Munson?” Steve called out as he jogged down the hallway, approaching the other boy from behind just as he was closing his locker.

Eddie startled, his eyes going wide as he turned to see who had snuck up on him, but recovered quickly.

“Steeeeeeeve Harrington, what can I do for his former-royal-highness?”

Steve stepped in close, glancing around to make sure no one was watching them before he took Eddie’s hand, gently turning it over, and placed the ring in the center of his palm.

“I think you dropped this.”

Permanent taglist (open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @hitlikehammers

#stwgdailyprompt #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie ficlet #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie fic

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st4rbe0m · 4 months ago

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GIRLS LIKE BOYS LIKE ME !

how would enhypen prepare for their first date with you!

🩷 now playing - on melancholy hill by the gorillaz

🩷 contents - includes kissing! no gendered terms used but makeup is mentioned in Jake's. enha as losers who are trying their best™ on first dates

🩷 a/n - unlocked how to make gradient text im basically unstoppable now. this is my first time writing a headcanon sort of thing!! so I hope it's good. pls do reblog and leave comments - I would love to hear from readers :)

masterlist

HEESUNG would be the type to try and play it cool and then lose his mind then play it cool again like an on and off switch. He would ask Jay fashion advice super nonchalantly, but Jay would be able to see through his shit IMMEDIATELY lmao. But like the good friend Jay is, he helps Heesung pick out a cool yet not over-the-top fit. Definitely picks up flowers on the way so that they're fresh, and maybe even spritzes a bit of mouth freshener before ringing your doorbell because of course he ate onion rings before leaving the house out of nervousness •́‿,⁠•̀

I feel like he'd take you to an arcade for a first date - not only because it gives you both bonding time while playing games, but he also gets to show off his shooter skills in those lcd zombie games (the playing league all night is coming in clutch for him right now). Definitely also the type to stand at the claw machine for half an hour trying to get you a toy. "Seung it's always rigged, come on we can play another round of ice hockey instead." "It's not about being rigged anymore Y/N. It's a matter of pride and courage. Life or death." Like boy T-T it's never that serious king. Would walk you home while you clutch a GIGANTIC bear plushie that he may or may not have bribed some poor arcade worker for while pretending he won at the totally not rigged claw machine, which was concerning, but also very sweet. Sweet enough to warrant a kiss on the cheek by the end of the date ;)

JAY would literally be the most perfect, gentleman-ly guy and just drop dead gorgeous and AHDJKD sorry my first date feels for Jay are RAGING right now. Definitely would be jittery for sure, but is calm and level-headed. I feel like he's the type to ask you out on a date very traditionally after harbouring feelings for a while, watching from afar kind of like the XO music video you know, with the flower shop? Bouquet with red or white roses are a MUST and he'd extend his arm out for you to hold while he takes you out of your house (definitely the type to charm your parents that has them pushing you out the door because that boy is PERFECT)

He would probably take you out to a restaurant or OR hear me out - an in home date where he's kicked his members out somehow and has the living room set up like a restaurant with a table with some candles and dim lighting, food he prepared (house-husband material. wife him up right NOW.) so that he could show off his cooking skills. Wonderful date, would drop you off home as well. Honestly I don't see him kissing you on the first date because of all that chivalry you know, but don't worry he's just building it up to the more perfect moment to be your perfect boyfriend.

JAKE, this happy puppy would be so SO excited he'd be counting seconds up to when he would meet you :( He's so ADORABLE he would literally tell everyone knows about how he's scored a date with the finest person alive and then would proceed to spend a whole week just grinning in happiness cuz he's going on a date with you!!! I think more than flowers, he'd get you some sort of trinket or some chocolates as a gift :D and he'd be skipping along the way. TONS of compliments about your makeup and your outfit and just you in general.

I feel like he'd have a picnic-park sort of date thing setup, bonus if you have a dog because you best believe he'd be bringing Layla along. He'd ask his mom for help and pack the most scrumptious picnic ever, and just spend a day basking in the sun with you. The evening might even end up with you both walking hand-in-hand by the riverside, just chitchatting because this boy is a pro-yapper, and just enjoying each other's presence. Wonderful date that would end in a kiss wink wink ;) because he's just so so enamoured by you that he will literally lose his mind if he lets this shot go.

SUNGHOON is a loverboy at heart - as cool and chill he may seem on the outside you best believe he's giving that smile that makes his eyes crinkle while escorting you to your date. He's sharply dressed and has received the apropos speech from his sister about first date etiquettes even though he's quite a mindful man with great manners already. I see him getting white or pink tulips for the date.

He'd take you to a - I know it's a cliché, but an ice rink!! Because it's his element, and that confidence is what he wants to show you. That he's the one for you, or at least who he's trying to be. Sunghoon may seem like a player or someone who doesn't do serious attachment but with you, it just feels different. Giggling along with you and pushing you along gently, guiding you around the contours of the ice rink has his own heart doing pirouettes. And of course as clichè this is heading already, the date concludes with an accidental kiss that happens when you slip on the ice, bringing him down with you. You're both laughing at your hopeless nonexistent skating skills and all he can do in that moment is give you a small peck on the lips that makes his pale cheeks blush violently.

SUNOO is such a sweetheart, I have a feeling you would have already been friends for a while and that his feelings for you had been garnering for a while, until he just had to tell you. And so here he is, dressed down to a tee with the help of Jay's good fashion sense, and of course adding his own personal touch to it. This smitten cutie would be going all out with the gifts, trust. With a medium sized bouquet, he would also get a box of chocolates for you and maybe something else, like a scrunchie or a charm bracelet you'd mentioned you'd been eyeing for a while to him before.

Sunoo, in my mind, seems like such a pottery date kind of guy to me. He adores creativity and spending that time to do something a bit artsy with his favourite person just sounds so cute. He would maybe make a dish bowl sort of thing for him to keep at his sink for his skincare or balms or even vitamins, while you would make a key holder or a soap box. And he'd help you out with your paints, giving you ideas on what you could make, and listening to your inputs as well. Since you both were already friends before, it's a comfortable and secure environment around you both, that just makes this sunshine boy beam more than ever possible around you. "Sun that looks great!!", you'd encourage him, as he'd just wipe away whatever flecks of paint had gotten on your hand, basking in your praise. He might even take the opportunity to hold your hand, to which you of course had no complaints.

JUNGWON is panicking and Jay and Heesung are trying their best to call him down. Panicking because he overslept on his nap to freshen up for his date. But fear not, because this is where Efficient Wonie comes in and saves the day. It's like everything that must be done becomes natural to him - it's in his second nature to buy you flowers and ring up your doorbell, flashing that all so sweet grin of his. And after calming down the raging butterflies in your stomach, you both set off on the date he's meticulously planned.

I see Jungwon as a multi-activity date kind of guy, you know? Why not get the best of all the worlds with this guy? He has the date planned in his head for months now, considering how long he's been itching to ask you out. He starts the date off with a nice, cozy cafe visit where you both can pick up some beverages to set yourselves right. Following would be a movie, something he'd find meaningful enough for a first date. And he's trying his best to focus on the movie instead of the fingertips brushing against yours inside the popcorn bucket because he needs to know the plot for the next part of the date!! Which is taking you to a small diner after the movies to talk about what you both found interesting about the film - whether it was good or bad, characters and the theme. And just from there the conversation would flow. Jungwon would be so easy to converse with that you wouldn't even know where the time has gone, until you find yourself in front of your house with him, hours past in a blink. And with how adorable his dimples look under the street lamps as you bid him goodbye, you can't help but place a sweet kiss on them as you depart, leaving him lovestruck on the street.

RIKI wants to have a bit of fun on dates. Sure movies and arcades and picnics are fun. But this boy is a ball of energy when he's around the people he likes - if it isn't obvious from the way he's around his members and their comfort. And that's how you made him feel as well, comfortable in his own skin. So much so that it warranted a date with the dance prodigy, who couldn't get you off his mind at all. He'd definitely be much more confident in this date than the others for sure, but that doesn't mean he isn't a bit nervous!! But sweet boy is more nervous about making sure you have a blast tonight with him. And with the way you're laughing and accepting the flowers he got you, placing them in a vase, those worries fade almost immediately.

Riki would take you to a town carnival or an amusement park sort of setup for a date! This teasing little shit would totally use this opportunity for poking fun at how you would scream on the faster rides like the rollercoaster, and would claim how he would "protect you" if anything did happen (like dawg this is not a fight for honor it's legit just a rollercoaster). He'd win you some prizes from the side stalls, and you'd both share a large cotton candy. Would whine about the animal ears you insisted that he wear during the duration of the date, which you had bought from a concession stand. But he would also complain when you said he doesn't have to wear it if he doesn't like it like T-T bro. The date reached its final note on the Ferris wheel, and it's not like you were scared of heights, it's just that you'd severely underestimated how high the ride went. "You can hold my hand if you're scared", Riki says jokingly. But you take the offer instantly, tightly clutching his hand as your eyes are wide and looking around as awe starts replacing the terror in your eyes. And despite the view, Riki could only look at you. Feeling his gaze on you, you turned your head around to only find yourself encaptured in a sweet and romantic kiss, surrounded by cool air miles above the ground.

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bby-blu-swirll · 1 year ago

Text

sit on my lap while you do my eyeliner - bakugo x reader

i can't find it now, (i will tho if it kills me) but this is inspired by this tumblr post i saw on my pinterest that was like " 'let me do your eyeliner' gf and 'okay sit on my lap while you do it' bf" lol

pls enjoy xx

bakugo loves your makeup. (he loves your natural face just as much, but he also thinks you look drop dead gorgeous no matter what.)

his favorite days are when you pull out the eyeliner pen. when you look at him and your eyes are rimmed with black, bringing out the hue of your irises, he just folds honestly. subtly, because his pride is too strong to let anybody see him so weak for you, but you've definitely picked up on it.

he loves anything you do with it. a wing, big or small, a messy grungey outline, drawing hearts or stars, anything. he loves watching you do it with such attention to detail and even more loves seeing the finished product and how it might have changed the shape of your eyes. whether it's soft and cute and gives you little doe eyes, or sharp and cutting like a knife, pulling your eyes into dangerous (& admittedly sexy) slits, he adores it.

he doesn't show it much, though. he's not as bad as compliments as you thought he'd be, really, but this is just a bit different.

he can call you pretty, gorgeous, hot, whatever- all he wants. there was no problem there. especially, in front of other people. it was almost like bragging to him.

like once, in the middle of a conversation with the bakusquad, he caught your arm as you were walking by just to press a kiss to your cheek and tell you that you looked beautiful. of course he meant every word of it, but there was a silent emphasis on the fact that he was the one you got to tell you that, and that it was very true. it was like his way of being able to say, "suck it, extras, that beauty is my girlfriend," without sounding like the cocky douchebag he usually did. (bc he knows you don't like it when he's such a cocky douchebag <3)

but complimenting such a specific part of you was a bit more difficult, and he wasn't quite sure how to articulate it. he knew he liked it, but he wasn't sure why. he just thought you looked sexy and sweet like that.

like you did today.

it was one of those lazy saturdays for the both of you, where you slept in a little and kind of just floated through the day, maybe go out maybe not, maybe make out on your bed, who knows.

it was close to half past ten when you were finally up and at your vanity, doing your makeup for the day. your boyfriend was spread out and taking up most of your bed while he studied for the test you had on monday. you thought he was a bit of a nerd for spending one of his only mornings off on school, but you admired his dedication.

neither of you liked silence much, so soft music filled the quiet in your dorm, along with the occasional page turn from bakugo, usually followed by a sigh.

you capped your eyeliner pen with a huff. you had been looking at your face so long, it was hard to tell if it was even. "hey babe?" you turned your swivel chair to face him.

"yeah?" he didn't bother looking up from his book.

you pressed the closed pen to your cheek and blinked a few times. "does this look okay?"

he glanced up for a moment, doing a double take when he saw you. there was no concealer on your dark circles and your eyeliner was smudged underneath your eyes and your lips looked a bit cracked, and he could feel his stomach swell with butterflies the second he looked at you.

"yeah, its.. its perfect." he looked away and cleared his throat, hearing you chuckle slightly.

once you turned around in your chair, his eyes were glued to you. just watching you sort through your makeup tray, trying to find something. the way you knit your brows together, your bottom lip stuck out- his quickly averted his gaze back to his book when you turned to him. he could feel your eyes trained on him as he thumbed the corner the pages.

"hey katsuki?"

he hummed in response, still not looking at you.

you stood up and slowly sauntered towards him, smirking when his eyes flicked up to you every few seconds. you took his book and set it aside.

"the hell are you-" he clenched his jaw when you leaned close to him, still standing. he dropped his voice to a soft tone, just shy of a whisper. "what're you doing, huh?"

"can i do your eyeliner?"

he chuckled and smirked. "'course.."

you grinned and took a seat next to him, your face heating up as his hands found your waist. he lifted you up and set you on his lap, wrapping his arms around your torso and holding you close. his smirk grew as a blush crept up your cheeks.

"just as long as you sit... here." he pecked your lips, mindlessly stroking his thumb across the skin just above the waistband of your pants. "you can start whenever, babe, i'm not stopping you..."

you huffed and bit the inside of your cheek, internally rolling your eyes. his cocky smirk softened a little when your fingers delicately cradled his jaw, turning his head slightly.

"close your eyes..." you kept your voice low, watching his eyes flutter shut.

his skipped a beat when he felt your breath on his lips. he took deep breaths, just inhaling whatever lotion or perfume had you smelling so good.

you bit your lip and did your best to keep your hand steady. it was hard to keep the lines straight when he would squeeze your hips occasionally. but you prevailed nonetheless, keeping the ink close to the rim of his eyes. you were going for a sort of rodrick look.

"okay.." you clicked your tongue and capped your pen, setting it to the side. "you're done~"

he opened his eyes slowly, a playful look dancing across his features. "well? how do i look?"

your breath caught in your throat. his red eyes glowed, half lidded and staring right into you.

"hmmm..." you brought a hand to his chest, the other messing with the hair at the base of his neck. you traced small circles across his skin. "handsome."

"yeah?" he took your cheek in his hand, pulling you closer to him. "that all?"

you shrugged and chuckled a bit, watching his cocky grin return.

"hm, you think i'm hot. coulda just said so..." he pressed his lips against yours softly, which quickly changed to a rough, demanding kiss.

looks like you did end up making out on your bed,,

totally meant to upload this over a week ago,,, my bad lol i've been very busy, sorry this is so crap lol i'll probably rewrite it in the future <33

love you sm !! stay safe & sleep well 💗💗

#bnha x reader #bnha #my hero fanfic #bnha fic #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki #bakugo x y/n #katsuki x reader #love you all <3

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lovebeatriceplz · 8 months ago

Text

My Larry Johnson headcanons 👻🎸

General and dating

- His room is a mess 24/7 but he's not a slob. It isn't like a health hazard but it's just never neat, something is always out of place.

- A huge sleepyhead, most of your dates are smoking sessions and taking really long naps together.

- He might appear scrawny to some but he can fight. He'd never start one, but blv he's going to defend himself or someone else. Not ruthless or brutal but he's got a nasty fist (he'll bite their ankles).

- Loves watching you get ready. Whether it's doing your make-up or your hair, or styling your clothes, he wants to watch.

- Once someone confused his eyebags with a smoky eyeliner look and asked him what brand. Now he watches tutorials on YouTube with Sal.

- Is a metalhead but is open and listens to all kinds of music, especially the ones that you recommend.

- He likes to experiment with kissing. Sometimes he kisses you like a royal and then he's inhaling your face😭.

- Can never go wrong with neck kisses though so he just goes for that most of the time. He also bites, but not like love bites more like a little Chihuahua, i digress.

- Has an old, beaten down pair of converse that he just refuses to toss out.

- Tells you everything, especially things about his dad. Sits up at night and talks to his father about you. When he can't do that, he'll talk about you with anyone that comes his way.

- Terrible at skating, popped his ass a couple of times.

- Is low-key down bad for you. Don't worry he's not a pervert, but he'll take any opportunity to get inside your pants.

- He's not a jealous person, like ever, for no circumstance.

- Has a nice singing voice but he prefers to play instruments instead, says he can feel the shit outta it more.

- Takes pictures of cats he see together and sends them to you, captioning it "us".

-Also takes pictures of you, you are 98% of his camera roll. He does it secretly as well, you could ask him "wait- when tf did you take this!?" And he'd just be like "🧍", i digress😭. Has a bunch of forehead pics.

- Supportive in anything that you do, not just you like anyone, his friends, his mom, anyone.

- Has no self - preservation and might self harm without realizing it's self harm. You have to stop him sometimes and help him to acknowledge his limits.

- Has really good hair genes. It grows back very fast, so when he impulsively cuts it (which happens often) it's back to normal in a good amount of weeks.

- First time he had s3x with you was... shocking?. Bro was hungry, not aggressive, just felt a little desperate. He didn't know he was touch starved until he met you.

- Thinks your drop dead gorgeous. Like he's mesmerized, and loves to just stare at you with those lazy eyes like your the best thing to ever happen to him.

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anika-ann · 2 months ago

Note

For the made up fic title game: counting daisies

Thank you, dear💕

From this game in which, DEAR BRAIN, we should describe a plot that comes to our mind when we see the suggested title ✨

Brain: okay, gotcha, here's a 700-word drabble with literal daisies

...well, and there IS. Slice of life, TONS of fluff and silliness.

Counting Daisies

Warnings: alcohol consumption and mention of very long festivities

“Loves me… loves me not…”

The breeze carried the soft sound of music from the cabin, falling on deaf ears as you continued to meticulously mutter under your breath, peeling off one daisy petal after another.

“Loves me… loves me not…”

The dead of the night was slowly lifting; but the meadow you had lied on to escape the festivities for a moment – even as they were for you – never seemed more alive, lit up by the first peeks of sunrays, glistening on the grass and flowers.

“Loves me… loves me not…”

Your vision was a little blurry, the champagne having gone to your head a little, your feet hurting from having danced so much; you had discarded your heels a long time ago, the pair of flats abandoned on the deck of the cabin too.

“Loves me… loves me not…”

You had walked barefoot here, the grass and late spring morning dew tickling your skin, the hem of your dress growing darker as you dragged it through the damp grass; the earth wasn’t all that cold, but pleasantly refreshing to lie on.

“Loves me… loves me not…”

You could feel the tiny drops of morning dew continue to fall into your hair, seeping into your burning skin, the sensation bringing a silly smile to your lips; or perhaps that was the alcohol and the warm feeling in your chest.

“Loves me… loves me not… Loves me—dammit!”

You huffed, staring at the daisy with a frown, your heart skipping a frustrated beat.

“What is it?” sounded the voice above you, the amused note in it causing you to huff again and pout, showing off the daisy – now with the worst possible number of petals for you. You would get the wrong result, for sure. “Uh huh… I see. I think you peeled off two petals at some point.”

You frowned harder, shifting in your position, the grass suddenly colder under your back, a little unpleasant in comparison to the soft pillow made of Steve’s thighs under your head.

You met his sparkling gaze, your breath catching for a moment; he looked magnificent. Slightly ruddy cheeks illuminated by the early sun making his hair into a warm halo, soft if amused gaze observing you with adoration, his bowtie undone and hanging off his neck, drawing your attention to the column of his throat, to the loosened buttons. He had changed from his old uniform and you were grateful; as handsome as he had looked in it, he was also gorgeous in a suit. And his reasoning behind the change of clothes made your heart melt.

'I don’t want to live in and keep comparing to the past. I think today is just another proof that the future is much more important. I can’t wait to live it… especially after today.'

Your smile turned dreamy at the memory of his confession, the familiar sting of tears burning in your eyes for a moment.

And then you remembered. The daisy. That damn daisy.

“You’re just saying that,” you protested, sighing, all too aware you were being dramatic.

“Am I now?”

He leaned to his left for a bit, taking a fresh daisy, twirling it between his fingers with a grin.

“Yes! You would!... Now I have to start again.”

You reached for the daisy, only to have it pulled out of your reach, Steve’s smile widening as your eyebrow rose in question.

“Or...” he suggested lowly, leaning forward, filling all your vision as his face neared yours dangerously, his nose lightly bumping yours, “you could just ask me, sweetheart.”

Before you could protest – as if – his lips gently landed on yours, sweetness and love indeed pouring from the tender kiss, his fingers carding through your hair. You reached for his cheek, stroking over his cheekbone, leaning into his affection with a dopey smile forming on your lips.

“I love you, Mrs. Rogers,” he whispered to your lips before he pecked them one more time, retreating and weaving the daisy he had picked into your hair. “Beautiful.”

“You too. And you taste like happiness and champagne.”

Steve chuckled, your words having left you in a daze registering in your brain, causing you to join him.

“I think I’m a little drunk on both. And on you,” you admitted, earning a kiss to your forehead this time, lingering with tenderness.

“I think we both are.”

Dropping the deceptive flower from your hand, you took Steve’s left hand, interlacing your fingers, the rings adorning your hands not longer than twelve hours making a soft clinking noise, your and Steve’s smile growing wider – and full of love despite whatever a random daisy claimed.

“But I think we earned it, Mr. Rogers.”

-🌼💍🌼-

Welp, this happened 😅Hope you enjoyed 🥰 Especially @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory since this is on her 🤭💕

#reply #anika replies #asks #ask game #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #captain america x reader #captain america x you #counting daisies #anika ann #anika writes

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 1 year ago

Text

Invidia

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Plot? I don't know her. Jealousy, dom/sub dynamics, slightly toxic relationship, alcohol consumption, light choking, spit kink, light bondage, P in V action, use of sex toys, overstimulation, degrading language, slight praise kink, implied oral (m receiving) Word count: ~1.7k

Summary: Aemond dishes out a punishment that won't soon be forgotten when his partner attempts to make him jealous. Based on this request.

Author's note: I don't have a tag list - please follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.

Her grip tightens around her martini glass, eyes narrowing, as jealousy bubbles acrid and bitter within her chest.

She watches as the dark haired woman grazes her perfectly manicured nails over Aemond’s bicep, red stained lips pulling back into a saccharine smile, revealing pearly white teeth. She knows the woman is drop dead gorgeous, but in her envious state she sees only a predatory threat to her relationship, her thoughts darkened and unkind with internalised misogyny.

Worse still is that Aemond appears to be doing nothing to stop her, he is allowing this woman to flirt shamelessly with him. While his mannerisms are impassive, not returning the woman’s touches or suggestive grins, she believes he should be making it explicitly clear he is unavailable.

She hadn’t even wanted to come this evening, she had been desperate for a quiet night in front of the TV, just her and Aemond. He’d insisted they go though; the opening night of Aegon’s new cocktail bar and he simply had to support his family. So she’d dolled herself up, allowed herself to be dragged along and how here he was making a mockery of her.

Two can play at that game.

She wants to make him feel every bit as jealous as she does, to remind him he isn’t the only desirable person in their relationship, and she knows just the person who will strike that blow hardest.

Scanning the crowd, she spots the man of the hour propping up the bar, tipping back tequila shots.

Swallowing the remnants of her drink in a single gulp, she winces slightly as the combination of vodka and vermouth burns lightly in her throat, then heads over to where Aegon is standing.

“Hey, you,” She greets him in a sing-song voice, reaching out to brush her fingers against his forearm. “Love what you’ve done with the place!”

“Thanks,” He says with a smirk, his eyes traveling over her appreciatively, before nodding towards her glass. “Looks like you’re empty, shall I get you another?”

She knows that the music isn’t so loud that she can’t be heard by simply raising her voice a little, but she also knows that doing that won’t grant her the attention she so desperately seeks from Aemond. So, she leans in, her lips brushing against the shell of Aegon’s ear as she whispers to him.

“Oh, I would love one, thank you!”

Drawing back, she watches the bob of his throat with a satisfied smile, as he swallows thickly. She was having the desired effect on one brother, at least.

“You got it,” He tells her, his hand brushing hers as he relieves her of the empty glass and turns back towards the bar, holding up two fingers towards the bartender.

It’s then that she feels a firm but gentle grasp on her upper arm and turns to look up into the steely gaze of Aemond. The taut bun that his long, silver hair is pulled back into leaves his face unobscured, so the hardened lines of anger are unmistakable. While his left eye remains milky and lifeless, the fury that burns bright within the blue of his right more than makes up for its absence.

A shiver runs through her. Perhaps she has pushed this too far.

“We’re leaving,” He tells her flatly.

Her eyes widen as she tries to protest. “But Aegon’s just getting me a dri–”

“I wasn’t asking,” He shoots back, grabbing her hand and leading her through the crowded bar.

He is silent on the drive home. The hand that would usually rest against her thigh keeps a firm grasp of the steering wheel as he stares straight ahead.

The tension inside the car is unbearable. She knows she’s in trouble. Her stomach flutters nervously, wondering what she can say to calm him down, but can come up with nothing that she doesn’t think will enrage him further, so she stays silent.

The moment they arrive home, he spins her around to face him, pressing her against the wall, causing her to gasp. His hand grasps lightly against her throat as he stares her down. Arousal pools warm between her thighs.

“Just what the fuck was that tonight?” He hisses lowly.

“I-I was just chatting to Aegon…” She stammers, gazing up at Aemond, doe-eyed.

“Oh, it looked like it was more than chatting, much more.”

“It wasn’t, I swear!” She whines, regretting ever having approached Aegon in the first place, but unable to shake the effect that Aemond’s display of dominance is having on her.

“Hm,” He raises his free hand towards her face, tugging at her bottom lip with his thumb. “Open.”

She opens her mouth, steeling herself for what’s to come, but still shivers when she feels him spit harshly onto her tongue. She swallows without having to be asked, inwardly delighted at the hum of approval that Aemond emits.

“Thought you could use something to accompany the filthy lies that are coming out of your mouth,” He mutters darkly, his grip on her throat tightening.

She whimpers as her resolve crumbles. “That woman was flirting with you!”

“Ah, there it is,” He smirks. “You behaved like a stupid, little slut with my brother because you were jealous? Pathetic.”

“She was all over you, you did nothing to stop her!” She snaps back, feeling herself grow angry.

“But I didn’t do anything, did I?” He snarls, eye narrowing. “If you saw the number of women I turn down when you aren’t around you’d fucking cry, yet I can’t trust you not to throw yourself at my brother. Would you rather be with him instead?”

“No, Aemond, I only want you!” She clings desperately to the front of his black button up shirt.

“Is that so?” He cocks his head slightly, his hand still around her throat.

“Yes, I was just trying to make you jealous. I’m sorry,” She pleads.

“Hm. You’re about to be. Bedroom. Now.”

He releases her throat and she walks on unsteady feet towards their shared bedroom, nervous excitement making her heart race.

She lays back on the bed, biting her lip in anticipation, as Aemond stands at the foot of it, the metal clink of his belt being unfastened the only sound in the room. The audible slide of the leather against the cotton of his suit trousers as he removes it from the loops causes her skin to break out into gooseflesh.

“Wrists together. Above your head,” He orders.

She does as she’s told, her throat running dry when she feels the mattress dip either side of her as Aemond straddles her, winding his belt around her wrists and using it to bind them to the headboard.

“Colour?” He asks simply, making eye contact.

“Green,” She whispers.

“Good girl,”

The praise shoots straight to her core, making her clench around nothing. He leaves her with no time to ponder on what his next move might be, as his hands disappear beneath her skirt to tug down her underwear.

She arches off of the mattress slightly as his deft fingers swipe through her folds, coming away glistening with her slick.

“Little slut,” He whispers, before freeing his cock, showing he’s every bit as turned on as she is.

He takes a firm hold of her hip with one hand, grasping the base of his erection with the other and forces himself all the way in to the hilt in one fluid motion.

She is wet enough that any preparation isn’t required, but the sudden stretch still steals her breath away.

Aemond’s thrusts are quick and sure, his hips snapping against hers harshly as he brings his thumb between their bodies to rub at her clit in rapid, tight circles.

Her nails bite into the leather of the belt around her wrists, struggling to ground herself as pleasure builds steadily within her gut, each slap of his skin against hers nudging her closer to the edge.

His breathy pants combined with the look of determination on his face give her the final shove she needs, and she falls apart with blinding white warmth that washes over her from head to toe.

She’d believe her punishment was over were it not for the fact that Aemond has yet to cum. His low chuckle as he stills inside of her is all the indication she needs that he’s just getting started. He leans over, never slipping out of her, and pulls her Hitachi magic wand from a drawer of the bedside table.

Fuck.

“Colour?” Aemond demands again, his voice husky.

“G-green,” She breathes shakily.

He purses his lips. “We’ll see about that.”

The jolt that rockets through her body when he presses the toy against her, at maximum speed, causes her to squeal. He keeps it there, resuming his thrusts inside of her and the combination of the two is too much. She trembles all over, her mind feeling foggy.

“What are you going to do the next time you feel jealous?” Aemond asks.

“N-fuck-nothing!”

“Good girl. And that’s because you can trust me.”

A sob of pleasure is ripped from her as another orgasm has her tightening and spasming around Aemond uncontrollably. He shows her no mercy, keeping the wand firmly on her, the momentum of his hips never slowing.

Aemond’s breathing is ragged, sweat visible upon his brow from exertion. “Do you trust that yours is the only cunt I want to bury myself inside of?”

“Aemond…please…” She mewls piteously, overstimulation making her shake.

“I need you to say it,” He grits out.

She tugs involuntarily at her restraints, tipping her head back. “Yes, I trust you!”

He brings her to peak three more times, before he finally relents. “Colour?”

“Yellow,” She says weakly, voice hoarse and eyes teary.

Aemond switches the toy off, tossing it to the side and slowly pulls out of her. She hisses at the sensation, noticing that he is still rock hard, not having peaked himself yet.

He rubs gently at her wrists as he unfastens the belt, helping to get the blood circulating once more. Brushing his lips against her temple, damp with perspiration, he whispers softly to her. “I’m not done with you yet, just giving that sweet little pussy of yours a rest. For now–” He leans back on his haunches and taps the head of his cock against her lips. “You can put that pretty mouth of yours to work, you’ve got quite the mess to clean up.”

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #prince aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond stannies #pro aemond targaryen #modern aemond #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #hotd #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen fan fiction #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen fan fic #hotd fan fiction #hotd fanfiction #hotd fan fic #hotd fanfic

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