#broke groupies

[returnofthegroupies]

[aquarri]

.

[driaswrld]

mamoru breaking up w usagi was the roman empire of my childhood

[amirasainz]

omg the little Alonso fics are TOO cute!!! Can I please request one where little Alonso has a little crush on a driver and how the others react especially her papa? 😂

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo, babygirl 💕

The Baby-Crush

The sun was high over the paddock, the heat intense enough to send most of the drivers straight to the designated cooling area after their morning practice laps. The “sweating area,” as they’d all jokingly dubbed it, was packed with drivers catching their breath and throwing back water bottles like they’d just crossed a desert.

Suddenly, the calm was broken by a pattering of tiny feet.

“Papá!”

Every driver’s head whipped around to see the sight they’d been waiting for all season — three-year-old Yn Alonso running at full speed through the paddock, her dark hair bouncing as she scanned for her father. Even with the humid weather, she was dressed in a white fluffy dress, with a big green bow, to not only represent her daddy's team, but to also keep her hair from slipping over her eyes.

Fernando's grin grew as she hurtled towards him. He knelt down to catch her, arms wide open, as she nearly toppled him over in a flying hug.

“Mi niña,” he laughed, scooping her up and holding her close. “What are you doing here, pequeña?”

She beamed at him, then, without a word, wiggled to be let down, her big brown eyes already scanning the room. As soon as her feet touched the ground, Yn’s eyes locked onto Charles, who was laughing with Carlos.

Charles noticed her stare and broke out in a huge grin. “Ah, there she is!” He knelt down, stretching his arms out wide. “Come here, Yn!”

Without a second thought, Yn sprinted straight into Charles's open arms, bypassing every other driver without a glance. Fernando's smile froze. Carlos raised his eyebrows, nudging Lando as he stifled a laugh.

Charles lifted Yn effortlessly, spinning her around as she giggled and clung to him, her little arms wrapped around his neck. “You’re getting so big!” he said, poking her nose gently, earning a bright giggle.

“You’re her favorite, Charles,” Pierre teased, crossing his arms with a playful pout. “I remember when I was the favorite.”

Yn looked over at Pierre with a big smile but tightened her grip around Charles’s neck. “Charlie!” she insisted, pointing at him as if to make it clear who her favorite was.

Lando laughed, nudging Max. “Charles has a new fangirl, and she's got the Alonso seal of approval. How does it feel to have Fernando’s blessing?”

But a low, grumbling sound interrupted the teasing. Fernando had crossed his arms, a deep frown etched on his face. “Blessing? What blessing? I did not give any blessing. This… this is betrayal. By my own hija.”

Max raised his hands in mock surrender, struggling to contain his laughter. “Hey, hey, don’t look at us, mate. Looks like she’s got a bit of a crush on Charles.”

Fernando’s eyes narrowed as he watched Charles gently bouncing Yn in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder with a content sigh. The other drivers snickered as Fernando muttered to himself, pacing a bit and shaking his head.

“Charles,” he said, his voice half-joking, half-serious, “that is my daughter, not some… Ferrari groupie.”

Charles looked over at Fernando with a grin, carefully placing a tiny kiss on Yn’s cheek. “Don’t worry, Fernando. I am a gentleman.”

Yn’s cheeks turned pink as she let out a giggle and hid her face in Charles’s shoulder, peeking out with a shy smile. Charles, absolutely charmed, looked back at Fernando. “See? She’s happy.”

Carlos leaned in, smirking. “You’re in trouble, Charles. Fernando looks ready to put you in the barriers next race.”

But Charles, clearly enjoying himself, pretended not to notice the jealous glares from both Fernando and the other drivers. He cradled Yn a little closer, leaning his forehead against hers, as her tiny fingers played with the zipper of his racing suit.

“Charlie,” she whispered, loud enough for everyone to hear, “are you gonna win?”

Charles softened, nodding earnestly. “I’ll do my best, just for you, okay?”

Fernando let out a frustrated sigh. “Oh, so now you’re winning races, huh? Where was that last season?”

Everyone burst into laughter as Charles sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. “What can I say, Fernando? I have a good-luck charm now.” He tapped Yn’s nose, and she burst into giggles again.

Lando was practically in stitches. “Mate, you’ve got a tiny Alonso fangirl giving you her blessing. You’d better win next weekend!”

Yn, sensing the attention, pointed her little finger at Lando. “No,” she said firmly, still clinging to Charles. “Charlie’s best.”

Carlos wiped away a fake tear. “Ouch! Betrayed by someone so young.”

Fernando finally stepped forward, determined to reclaim his daughter. “Okay, okay, ya es suficiente, little one. Come back to Papá, alright?”

Yn hesitated, looking between her father and Charles, before giving her dad a quick look of mischief.

“No!” she squealed and snuggled closer to Charles, making him laugh as he hugged her back. “With Charlie!”

Fernando’s face was priceless — part horrified, part amused, and all exasperated. The other drivers were practically doubled over with laughter, watching Fernando’s meltdown unfold.

“Yn,” Fernando said in his best “dad” voice, “Charlie drives for Ferrari. Ferrari, Yn. Alonso girls do not cheer for Ferrari.”

She blinked, clearly not understanding a word he’d said, before patting Charles’s cheek lovingly. “Charlie’s nice.”

George Russell chuckled, giving Fernando a pat on the back. “Face it, Fernando. She’s got taste.”

Charles, now thoroughly enjoying himself, made a point to keep her entertained, bouncing her on his hip, whispering silly things that made her giggle uncontrollably. At one point, he looked over at Fernando with a wink. “Look, I’ll take good care of her, Fernando. She’s safe with me.”

Fernando rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a smile now, despite his reluctant acceptance. “If you so much as put one scratch on her, Charles…”

Charles gave a mock salute. “Understood, sir. Only the best for the Alonso princess.”

For the rest of the day, Yn stayed glued to Charles’s side, happily babbling about who knows what as he patiently listened, asking her questions and looking thoroughly invested. At one point, she tugged on his sleeve.

“Charlie,” she said, looking around before leaning close to his ear, her voice a loud whisper, “don’t tell Papá, but I like red.”

Charles chuckled, glancing over at Fernando, who was watching the two of them suspiciously from across the room. “Our little secret,” he whispered back.

By the end of the day, Yn was dozing off, still in Charles’s arms, her tiny fingers clinging to the front of his suit. Charles carried her back to Fernando, who shook his head, finally resigned.

“Alright, fine,” Fernando said, reaching out to take his daughter. “But just remember, Yn, Papá is still your number one fan, okay?”

Yn blinked sleepily and gave him a nod. “Number one,” she mumbled, and Fernando’s heart melted a bit.

But just as he thought he’d won, she gave Charles one last sleepy grin. “Charlie, you’re number two.”

Fernando groaned, and the whole paddock dissolved into laughter as Charles gave her a final cheeky kiss on the cheek.

[tbgkaru]

FFXIV band AU

I've had this idea since 2020 and it's still eating at me enough to perhaps write/draw a comic for this eventually, but for now pictures will have to do!

Haurchefant had the idea to form a band during their college years and of course Aymeric is too nice to deny him (even though he raises valid concerns) and Estinien has always quietly tagged along for the road. Aymeric made the excuse that his instrument knowledge is not befitting of the band (violin and piano) and so he offered to help with writing the songs. Who would believe that their grudge pop-punk band will do well! Haurchefant was the perfect showman, Estinien had his brooding but powerful enticing aura, Aymeric's songs were metaphorical and deep but fun and sing-a-long-y. They also often reminded too much of a certain white-haired bassist and their experience together through Aymeric's lenses, much to Estinien's obliviousness.

Haurchefant acted like a celebrity even with minimal audience and dragged Hilda into the band early on when he didn't manage to bag her but they still had a great chemistry (and she lit a fire with her drumming). The 3 of them made it big and eventually the 4 of them, as Aymeric joined for press once (tackling band management and PR on top of his other paperwork and song writing) and the fans couldn't take their eyes off of him, demanding him to play with the band. Politely denying, Aymeric still got a piano solo inbetween their powersongs here and there.

Not being straightforward with Estinien ate at his heart more often than not, when the band went to a party but Aymeric had to stay behind and deal with paperwork (estinien giving him a long quiet look before leaving with the other two), only for them to be back late into the night, Haurchefant and Hilda drunk and loud, Estinien sober but post-fuck with a stranger.

The band broke up when Haurchefant got into a scandal with few groupies and had to raise a child now, Hilda wanting to continue the band life but in an all-female band, leaving Estinien and Aymeric to themselves again, in almost an unreal silence post this ride of a life. Aymeric eventually confesses to Estinien, only for Estinien to tell Aymeric that he was aware of his feelings all along, mentioning the songs were saying it all and Aymeric almost ashamed at his friend deciphering their meaning and correctly attaching it to himself. At long last, Estinien leans in for a kiss before he asks Aymeric to still manage his taxes though.

[breathinlove]

band!ellie headcanons and smau

read this

sinopse: ellie williams is the lead singer in a band (+some texts with her). i lost the resquest im so sorry!

cw: nsfw after the texts with warning! swearing, ellie's a changed woman after you, reader works in a record store and ellie's a simp.

part 2

band!ellie who is obviously in a band with dina and jesse.

band!ellie who had cat in the band when they started, but they had massive drama when they broke up. (they're on good terms now tho! trust).

band!ellie who had a phase where her and jesse liked dina the fans call it throuple era

band!ellie who got matching flash tattoos on her very first serious show with dina and jesse.

band!ellie who is kind of a fuckgirl and looooves her fans iykwim.

“just until i find the wife.” that's her lame excuse.

band!ellie who is the type of girl to have groupies and sign their tits.

band!ellie mets you at the fuckass record store where you work.

"is that you?" you gather the courage to ask about what she was buying and she smiles proudly. "it's our debut album." "congrats." you sigh before lifting your head to continue. "i bought one this morning when they came in, thought it looked cool." and she has to ask for your number cause why the hell did that make her heart melt.

band!ellie who just looks like she's never kissed before when you're the one to initiate the first kiss. (:0)

band!ellie who 3 dates in invites you to one of her local shows, having you in the front line (eye contact goes insane...).

band!ellie who makes her thristy fans they bite their tongue when she leans over to you at the edge of the stage. singing to you, fingers on your chin.

band!ellie who soon enough is on tour and texting you less. you try to move on (you're soooo wrong for that because she's just busy and thinking about you).

band!ellie always talking about you to dina and jesse.

“i need to get back to my girl.” she's so delusional too.

band!ellie who is instantly only focused on you, weirdly adding your name in every cover of romantic songs they do at rehearsal.

band!ellie who the first thing she does when she's back is run to the record store.

“how was the tour?” you asked, she's leaning on the counter and you take a step back. she replied with an “i missed you.” and you're not even hesitanting anymore.

band!ellie who wastes no time asking you to be her girlfriend after you cuss her out because she was late to one of your dates (she thinks it's hot asf).

band!ellie who is soooo daddy upstage but you know she wants and NEEDS to be babied.

band!ellie who notices you were upset she had a show your birthday, so she called you on stage and serenaded you as if she was justin bieber… flowers and everything. (she sang “one less lonely girl”)

her fr^

band!ellie who when she's out and fans stop her… she's so sweet and attentive but she wouldn't want to be late to see you

“sorry girls, the wife is waiting i have to go.”

texts with band!ellie

nsfw (cw: cunnilingus [e!receiving], strap on sex [r!receiving]. switch!ellie!!!!).

band!ellie who absolutely loves good luck head when you're backstage.

“baby just needs some encouragement, am i right?” you ask softly between open mouthed kisses on her lower stomach and thighs. she nods. “yes… need your tongue.” she grunts, thrusting her hips. you start licking and kissing her slit and she can't help but grind against your tongue until she cums all over it.

band!ellie who loves it when you ride her strap too, but she has to switch out and completely dick you down… with permission after not touching you for so long.

“please let me fuck that pussy.” she knows you're getting tired, since you didn't even slap her hand when she started rubbing your clit. “come on…” she spits down your clit. “tired, babe?” you nod breathlessly grinding on her lap. she fucks up into you “tell me i can fuck you…” but she's already doing it?? “f-fuck me, ellie.” and now she's grining and holding you flat. “damn, this pussy's split open.” as she bottoms that shit deep in you. she will fuck you stupid.

a/n: this is a lot but i enjoyed doing it... and.... my phone's charged!

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: No electricity, no Eddie, and nowhere to run when danger struck. (3.7k words)

♫ CW: threat of violence, alcohol consumption, slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, misunderstanding, anxiety, self-deprecation, parental conflict, poverty, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter fifteen: further to fall

Stillness and tension filled the space in the lobby. It surrounded you and your parents, enveloping you in its thick haze and snuffing out the conversation. 

This wasn’t the end of it, you were certain. Their disappointment wasn’t permanently extinguished; it was just dimmed while dealing with the newer, more pertinent crisis. 

Mom huffed out a sigh, crossing her arms over her chest. “Well, isn’t that great?” She gave you a pointed glare, one that solidified that the discussion was far from over, before she rifled through the desk drawer. 

“What are you looking for? I can help—”

She pulled out a flashlight. “I’ve got it,” she muttered. Her tone was icy enough to bring snowfall to the heatwave when she added, “I think you’ve done enough.”

Shame spun a web in your lungs, but there was something else along with it that quickly choked out that sadness. Something fiery, almost wicked in nature. 

I think you’ve done enough. 

That was the straw that broke the camel’s back. 

Mom had said it with such vitriol, such disappointment, that she only could have meant to hurt you. And, for a brief moment, she did. 

But you plucked that knife from your side and launched it back at her with unwavering precision. 

“Yeah, I think I have.” The world went red as words spilled from you in a seething rage. “I spent years working for pennies so you could keep the motel afloat. I gave up spending time with friends so you’d have cheap labor instead of actually hiring someone and paying them a decent salary.”

 All of those nights spent stuck behind the desk, watching the Vacancy light taunt you from the window. Hearing the other college students enjoying their buzz as they paraded from bar to bar. The tamped-down envy that you convinced yourself would go away if you ignored it long enough. 

It exploded now, unleashing a tidal wave of venom and carrying a host of words that carelessly rolled off your tongue. 

“I never would have ‘done enough’ unless I took over the motel and ran it exactly like you want me to.” Spittle gathered at the corners of your mouth. “And even then, I’m sure I’d mess up something else.”

Anger flashed behind Mom’s eyes. “Don’t go playing the martyr,” she said, jaw tensed. “You chose to lie to us.”

“And what would have happened if I told you the truth? Would you have been okay with all of this?” A challenge, one that she could only win by lying. 

She knew it, too; she faltered when she spoke again. “We would have had more time to prepare.”

But there were no preparations—none that were feasible and wouldn’t bankrupt the already struggling business. They would have had more time to convince you not to pursue your dreams—that’s what she meant. 

“Maybe…maybe we should…” Dad hesitated, “maybe we should discuss this later.”

Mom was ready to agree, but you shook your head. 

“I don’t want to discuss this later.” Later reminded you of soon, and the empty promises you made to Eddie. 

Eddie, who was off touring with his band, burying himself inside models or groupies or—God help you—Fiona. 

You shook off the thoughts of him and continued. “I lied to you. I pretended like I was going to school for hospitality. I pretended like I was planning to take over the motel after graduation. And I pretended like there was nothing going on between me and Eddie even though we…had feelings for each other.” You swallowed the embarrassment as you remembered the picnic date that ended in a public makeout session. “I’m sorry that I lied, but if you can’t see why I had to, then I don’t think any more ‘discussions’ will help.”

Sweat trickled down your spine, the heat of the argument exacerbating the already high temperatures. It bloomed beneath your arms and under the band of your bra, and you pinched the cotton of your shirt between your thumb and forefinger and fanned yourself. 

“I’m done talking. And I’m done listening. I’m just…done.” A terse, tired exhale escaped your lips with a shudder. Your breath caught in your lungs as you heaved out a sob. One tear fell. Then another. And another, until you were crying too hard to breathe, let alone speak. 

Shaking hands smeared your tears across your cheeks. You were sorry—and you weren’t. You had been selfish, yes, but it felt earned after years of putting their dreams before your own. 

You were furious at them—and at yourself, for being mad at them. You were ashamed of the tears that wouldn’t stop falling, and yet each one was a weight lifted from your shoulders.  

A headache bloomed behind your eyes as Stop feeling sorry for yourself and Let them see your pain battled for dominance. 

You’d given up Eddie because you were so afraid of disappointing your parents. You’d been so concerned about remaining selfless that you ended up being selfish towards the man who’d made you feel like the truest version of yourself. 

And now he was gone for good. There was no sense crying over spilt milk—especially without the handyman who cleaned it up. 

You collected yourself, trying to forget the way your fingers perfectly laced with his like adjoining puzzle pieces. Trying not to wonder what other connections you might have made together if you hadn’t pushed him away. 

“I-I have a flashlight in my room. And I’m pretty sure I have some sp-spare batteries.” You forced each word out in a desperate plea to change the subject. “I can…I can get them. And then I’ll run and see if I can buy some flashlights to give to the guests.”

Dad nodded, the lines at the corners of his eyes still crinkling with concern. “You should go now. Before it gets dark.” Before people start losing their minds and any sense of morality, were his unspoken words. 

You dared to glance at Mom, though she kept her gaze trained on the desk. Something—mother’s instinct, perhaps—allowed her to swallow her pride and say, “thank you.”

You only managed a nod before you darted out the door, knowing that if you opened your mouth to say “you’re welcome,” you’d start crying again. 

It wasn’t long before guests trickled out of their rooms, complaining about the lights not working or the phone not having dial tone. With increasingly thinning patience, you explained again and again that you didn’t know when the power would return. 

In addition to the current guests, the blackout brought a slew of new faces. These guests were well outside of the usual demographic of truckers, ladies of the night, and affair-havers seeking a place for a quick lay. Exhausted parents toting cranky children and business people with briefcases tucked beneath their arms walked through the door, their relief palpable when you told them you had rooms available. 

A family of four got the last room only a few minutes after your shift began: a mom, a dad, and their two sons, the oldest of which couldn't have been older than five. He entered the lobby first, barreling through the door like a bull in a china shop.

“Alex, please.” It was all the mother could muster for a scolding. Sweat beaded along her collarbones and dampened her “I Love NY” t-shirt. Her husband trailed behind her, holding their younger son. The boy was sleeping, heat-reddened face smushed into his father’s shoulder. 

The mother wiped at her tired eyes. “Do you have a room?” More plea than question, and you were more than happy to oblige.

As she scribbled her information down on the guest log, the older boy—Alex—peered up at you from behind the desk. “Did you ever see someone steal stuff?” He asked excitedly. 

You had, on numerous occasions, but theft was hardly a topic you wanted to talk about with a young child. “I don’t think so.”

“I did! Just now.” He bounced on the balls of his feet. “Me an’ Mommy an’ Daddy an’ Gavin were getting snacks, and some guys stoled while we were in the store!”

“Alex,” his father warned, but it wasn’t stern enough to deter him from elaborating. 

“An’ the guy who worked at the store got really mad and started yelling at them. But they ran away super super fast. Like lightning speed. Like…” he stopped speaking to run in place, little legs working overtime to show just how fast the looters were running. “It was cool!”

Cool wasn’t exactly how you’d describe it. “What store was this?” You glanced between the two adults. 

“Just down the street,” the mom answered. “I can’t remember the name, but it had a yellow awning.”

It was unsurprising that the convenience stores and bodegas would be hit first. The combination of low security and easily moveable items made them the perfect targets. The motel would be much lower on the list, but you weren’t in the clear. Besides taking the money in the register, an angry crowd could do some serious property damage. 

Without anything to offer, you might end up with a few broken windows or a graffiti-tagged door. 

You plucked the room key from its place and handed it to her, along with two miniature flashlights that you had managed to snag from the discount store earlier that day. The lights weren't the brightest, but it beat the alternative of sitting in complete darkness. 

Alex looked up at his mother, strawberry-blond hair matted to his forehead. “Mommy, can I watch TV, please?”

“Honey, I told you—the TVs won’t work in a blackout.”

The boy’s lower lip wobbled and his eyes went glassy with the prospect of tears. “But I wanna watch TV,” he whined. His shoulders slumped, one sneakered foot stomping in indignation. “I even said ‘please!’”

You could see his mother’s patience thinning, like a frayed string about to snap. Before she could raise her voice or he devolved into a full-blown tantrum, you stepped in. 

“Alex?” The boy looked at you at the sound of his name. “I know it’s a bummer that you can’t watch TV. It’s hard when we can’t do what we want.”

He nodded, though the threat of tears still lingered. 

“I have some crayons and paper that are perfect for coloring,” you continued, rummaging through the desk drawer and procuring the pack of Crayola and scrap paper. “I know it’s not the same as watching TV, but maybe you can draw your favorite characters.”

The dad lightly squeezed Alex’s shoulder. ���Hey, that seems pretty fun, bud,” he said softly, careful not to wake the dozing toddler. “Maybe you can draw the Ninja Turtles.”

You didn’t know much about the Ninja Turtles—just that there were four of them—but you feigned as much enthusiasm as the oppressive heat allowed. “Ooh, the Ninja Turtles! Which one is your favorite?”

“L-Leonardo,” Alex hiccuped. 

“Mine, too!” You smiled and slid the crayon box towards him. He stood on tiptoes and took it from the desk. “Make sure you share with your brother once he wakes up, okay?”

“Okay.” Alex paused. “But I might have to use all the green. ‘Cause of the Ninja Turtles.”

You tried to hold back the smile twitching on your lips and match his serious expression. “Right. That makes sense.”

“Say ‘thank you,’” his mom gently reminded him. He did, flashing you a baby tooth-filled grin. 

“Any time. You can stop by tomorrow and show me what you drew, okay?”

The family had only been gone for a minute when another door squeaked open farther down the hall. You held your breath, waiting for another asinine complaint that was well beyond your control. 

Relief seeped into your skin at the sight of Phyllis, her face scrubbed of its usual heavy makeup. She wore sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, house slippers scuffling against the ground. She carried her trusty bat under her arm. 

“Figured you might need this with all of that,” Phyllis gestured towards the chaos beyond the front door, “going on.”

You accepted the bat with a grateful smile. 

“No work tonight?” 

She shook her head. “Too many cops. And I’m too damn old to be getting busted.”

You laughed at that, the first genuine laugh you’d had in days. Weeks, probably. 

Had Eddie really been gone that long?

“I overheard you talking to that kid,” she said. “You’re good. I thought he was gonna start screaming.”

You let out a mirthless chuckle. “Well, that’s one thing I haven’t royally screwed up.”

Phyllis cocked her head, inquiring to know more, but you didn’t speak until she said, “I’ve got nothing to do all night. Might as well tell me a story.”

And so you told her, hurriedly unspooling each moment like a race to the finish. Perhaps it was: if you stopped for a breath, you might start crying again.

Minutes passed and she continued listening. The setting sun shone its final pinkish-purple rays through the lobby windows, its shadows emphasizing the older woman’s wrinkles, as you told her every mistake you’d made that led to now.

Phyllis was silent for a moment longer, waiting to ensure you were done. Understanding and, to your embarrassment and chagrin, pity reflected in her milky pupils.

“When I was your age, no one could tell me what to do,” she finally said. “Not my friends, not my family. I didn’t even listen to the cops arresting me.” She leaned in and whispered, “I was a lot more wiry back then.”

She heaved a reminiscent sigh. “I really thought I was tough shit. Invincible and all that. But now I look back and…I wonder what I could’ve been–who I could’ve been–if I just stopped and listened. I might not have been the first female President of the United States, but maybe I wouldn’t be a sixty-something-year-old hooker.”

“I’d vote for you,” you tried to joke, but it didn’t land.

Phyllis just placed one thin hand over yours. “You have the opposite problem. You care about what everyone thinks and you try to make everyone happy. But then you’re not happy.”

“I tried to be happy.” Memories of your psychology classes and picnic dates filled your mind, quickly replaced with images of your disappointed parents and an angry Eddie. “And it just made me selfish.”

“Is that a bad thing?” 

“Of course it is!” The conversation had devolved from something profound into nonsense. Maybe the heat was getting to her, because who in their right mind would think selfishness was good?

Phyllis shrugged. “Being too selfish, maybe. But putting yourself first once in a while isn’t a cardinal sin, y’know. Or maybe it is.” She scratched at an old scab on her arm. “I’m not the religious type.”

She pulled a pack of cigarettes from her back pocket, offering it out to you. You could certainly use one, the stress of today refusing to dissipate, but just the thought of any extra heat near your body made your skin crawl. 

Phyllis flicked the lighter, illuminating her face in the dwindling light. “What would’ve happened if you just told your parents the truth years ago?”

You considered the question, let the cynical answer loll around your mouth until it resembled something less pointed. More palatable. 

“They would’ve been mad back then, too.”

“And?”

You kept your gaze straight ahead as she exhaled a cloud of smoke. “I guess…I guess we could have figured out what to do sooner,” you finally said, parroting your mother’s words. 

But Phyllis shook her head again. “That’s not what I meant.” She gave you a pointed look, jabbing her lit cigarette in your direction. It was a menthol; different from the ones Eddie smoked. Yet it still reminded you of him, of being tucked up under his arm as he kissed your temple. 

“What would it have changed for you?” Phyllis tried again. “Not your parents; not the motel. Not even Lover Boy.”

You thought about it–really thought about how your life would be altered if you’d chosen honesty from the very beginning. 

You’d never have to check over your shoulder when writing essays for your psychology classes. You could have looked forward to graduate school—or at least felt the usual trepidation that came with new experiences, rather than the fear of letting people down. Eddie might have been standing in front of you now, taking every opportunity to steal kisses while he set up battery-powered fans. 

You never asked to be placed atop that pedestal, the one that declared you nothing less than perfect and a failure otherwise. But you could have helped yourself down, carefully and gracefully, rather than crashing to the ground without a safety net. 

But instead of floating, you’re melting in the motel lobby, your future scattered in pieces before you. 

The last time you floated was that trip to NYU with Eddie. Laughter easily bubbled out of you when he taunted the street preacher, a lightness you should have cherished at the time. 

How naive of you to assume it would last forever, when it didn’t even last a day.

The streets had been bathed in darkness for hours, your desk barely illuminated by a tiny flashlight, when it happened.

You had put down your book just twenty minutes earlier, your eyes straining to read the print. A headache thrummed at your temples, worsening until you stopped mid-sentence and finally stuck your bookmark between the pages.

The closed door could only do so much to stifle the cacophony of shattering glass and raucous shouting. Shop owners who lived above their stores yelled down to the looters, feebly hoping to scare them away, but they could not be deterred. Only the sounds of police sirens whooping were enough to send the thieves scattering, though they often ran with their arms full of stolen goods.

You didn’t see the man until he was inside the lobby, stumbling towards the desk as so many had before. Through the dim light, you could see a tie hanging loosely around his neck. His sweat-soaked button-down clung to his pale skin, the stench of liquor oozing from every pore.

He nearly tripped over his own feet, and he snorted out a laugh before clearing his throat. “Need a room,” he slurred. Up close, the lines on his forehead were more pronounced. Perspiration matted his thinning hair to his scalp. 

Your hand instinctively wrapped around the knob of Phyllis’s bat, your palm pressed so tightly against the wood that you risked a splinter. 

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have any available.” You kept your tone even, if a bit clipped. 

A sardonic grin stretched across the man’s face. He swiped his tongue over his teeth. “No rooms, huh? That’s what they said at all the other places.” He braced his forearms on the desk, his breath curdling the contents of your stomach. “And I’m startin’ to get real pissed that there isn’t a goddamn room in this goddamn city!”

Spittle gathered at the corners of his mouth, just as rancid as the rest of him. 

“First, my flight gets cancelled when I’m already at the airport. Then I try to drown my sorrows at the bar, and the bartender cuts me off. And now I’ve got some bitch telling me—”

“You need to leave.” God, you really didn’t want to have to use the bat, didn’t want to swing at a stranger… “Or I’ll call the police.”

His laughter chilled you, and only once you heard it did you realize your mistake. No electricity meant no phone calls, which meant no police. 

“Do you think I wanna be here?” He seethed. “Do you think this dump was my first choice? Every damn hotel was booked. Just give me a fucking room.”

You could scream. It would wake everyone in the motel and someone would come to check on you. But screaming also meant risking some sort of retaliation to keep you quiet, even if he hadn’t planned to hurt you at all. If you screamed, he could strike. 

No, making noise was not an option. 

The hand not clutching the bat was sweat-slicked from fear. Your grip slipped from where you braced yourself on the desk, fingers slamming into the drawer knob and knocking it open.

Wood scraped against wood, and then there was only a soft thud: The pepper spray canister had rolled to the front of the drawer.

Your second mistake was the half-second you spent flexing your throbbing fingers, hissing at the sudden pain. It was enough time for the man to lunge towards you, knocking over the bell that sat atop the desk. The one that Eddie rang that first night to wake you from your impromptu mid-shift nap.

It skittered to the floor with an anticlimactic ping and landed at your feet. You trapped it beneath a sneakered foot before sliding it behind you with as much precision as the adrenaline permitted, careful not to damage it.

The front door slammed open with enough force to send the knob careening into the wall. When the sun rises again, you wouldn’t be surprised if there was an indent in the plaster, or at least a scuff on the wallpaper. 

Looters, you thought grimly. Must’ve robbed the stores and bodegas and now they’re here as a last resort. Your body slumped in defeat, ready to let them take whatever they needed.

A sweaty, unfamiliar hand grabbed your wrist as the man pulled both you and your attention. But he only held onto you for a second before he let go.

No–not let go. Not of his own volition, anyway. He’d been yanked back by something–someone, rather; though the dim lighting only offered a glimpse of a glinting piece of metal being held to the man’s throat. 

A few hours passed by in seconds before you allowed yourself to see who had come to your rescue. To know that your heart and your mind were playing tricks on you in some sort of heat-induced delusion.

Deep brown eyes met yours, all at once softening his hardened edges, even as his grip on the pocket knife never faltered. 

And then Eddie Munson’s voice, more gruff and possessive than you’d ever heard it before, ricocheted through your veins.

“Get your fucking hands off of her.”

--

taglist:

@theintimatewriter @mandyjo8719 @storiesbyrhi @lady-munson @moonmark98

@squidscottjeans @therealbaberuthless @emxxblog @munson-mjstan @loves0phelia

@kthomps914 @aysheashea @munsonsbtch @mmunson86 @b-irock

@ginasellsbooks @erinekc @the-unforgivenn @dashingdeb16 @micheledawn1975

@yujyujj @eddies-acousticguitar @daisy-munson @kellsck @foreveranexpatsposts

@mykuup @chatteringfox @feelinglikeineedlotsofnaps @sapphire4082 @katethetank

@sidthedollface2 @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @mysteris-things @mrsjellymunson @josephquinnsfreckles

@the-disaster-in-waiting @eddielowe @hugdealer @rip-quizilla @munson-girl

@fishwithtitz @costellation-hunter @cloudroomblog @emsgoodthinkin

[ellieslittlewh0re]

I have read your story groupie love and omg did I love it, but i kept thinking about having sex with angry drunk Ellie, and I think you would be amazing at writing this.

Also read some of your other story’s i love them so much your amazing at writing.

I’m so sorry for the delay but yes!! I love this 😩💕

"𝑩𝑰𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑹"

₊˚ପ⊹. 𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 - 𝖾. 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖺𝗆𝗌 𝗑 𝖿𝖾𝗆 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

₊˚ପ⊹. 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗌 - 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝖾𝗅𝗅𝗂𝖾 (𝖽𝗎𝗁), 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖻𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀, 𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁�� 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀

*𝖺/𝗇 - 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝖻𝖺𝖽 𝗂𝗆 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 :(

God, the way I can picture this so vividly- her face reading stone cold, and practically had the words "pissed off" written across her forehead, silently sitting beside you in the back of the Uber as you two made your way back to your shared apartment. Her knuckles whitened in a fist that rested on her thigh, and even though she was looking away from you, you could see the prominent, sharp angle of her jaw clenching.

She was drunk- well, the both of you were, but her even more so, but the tension between you two sobered you right up. She however, was still fully ignited, the alcohol proving to feed her anger further as you two made it up to your apartment.

She pushed you inside, and slammed the door behind her, giving you two the privacy she wanted to unleash whatever it is she wanted on you.

Before you could even settle in, take your shoes off, put down your purse, etc... she pushed you against the wall, and placed her hands on either side of your head, caging your body in with hers.

You say her name softly and with such submission, looking for her eyes that were hanging lowly at your chest which started to rise and fall more quickly.

"Ellie-" you said again, this time more serious as fear started to take over.

Ellie's eyes slowly came up, trailing your bare décolletage, and how your collar bones pressed against the thin layer of skin with each deep exhale of your lungs. The usually bight, and lush color of her eyes were much darker, glimmering a speck of something that bordered on sinister.

She chuckled, the whiskey on her breath fanning your lips, and you feel her hand on your side, slowly dragging her fingers up, and over your tit until it was on your jaw. Her thumb and fingers indented the skin of your cheeks as she maneuvered your face side to side like she was examining your expressions more carefully.

"Did you want her to fuck you, huh? Is that it?" She gritted, but at the same time breathed heavily with hostility and desire, hearing her own voice like this turning her on that much more-

"N-no, no, Ellie-" Your denial is cut off with a yelp as her fingers continued to dig into the sides of your face, and your lips forcing a pucker.

"I know you're not fucking stupid. She was all over you, and you-" she scoffed, dropping her hand, "- you let it happen." Her words were slurred, and she almost sounded deranged like the mere topic had refreshened the memory.

You started to defend yourself, spewing your innocence to Ellie about how you were just being friendly, and you had no other intentions besides the fact that you simply enjoyed the conversation, but it fell on deaf ears.

Ellie's lips were on yours. The front of her body flush with your chest, and her hands grabbing you all over. She deepened the kiss, slipping her tongue inside as you parted your lips to let out a small gasp.

She broke away, her eyes glazed with drunken lust, focusing more heavily on your swollen, spit coated lips before quickly closing the space once more.

"Bed." She mumbled against your mouth, pulling you away from the plaster by your waist, and sloppily directing the two of you down the hall to your shared bedroom.

Finally, she had you, behind closed doors, and at her mercy. Any other time, she would've taken her time teasing you, edging you, but she was drunk, mad, and so fucking eager to take care of the mess inside her boxers.

She forcibly kissed you, backing you up into the room until the back of your knees buckle against the bed, causing you to fall back onto it.

She crawled on top, holding your hand down by your wrist, and her lips stinging into the flesh of your neck.

Ellie pulled away breathless, and quickly took notice how your hips were squirming against her calculatedly placed knee between your thighs.

She scoffs a chuckled, "oh yeah?", and skimmed the palm of her hand up your thigh, pushing the hem of your dress up until the pink lace of your panties were exposed.

A small wet patch over your center welcomed her feeding eyes.

Ellie practically drooled at the sight, damn near choking on her own spit that overflowed inside her mouth from the mere thought of your taste on her tongue- the flimsy, see through fabric clinging to your puffy lips definitely not helping her desperation.

Ellie sucked the air through her teeth, placing her fingers on the plush of your lower stomach, and moved her thumb down your folds, exhaling an erotic breath as she did so.

Her brows knitted together, almost as if she was physically in pain because holy fuck-

She curled her fingers under the delicately sewn hem, pulling your panties down your legs and tossing it to the side. She mumbled a guttural "fuck" under her breath, spreading your knees apart with haste and a certain impatience that left a lingering sting.

Her lips and chin slowly disappear as she lowered herself down, and made her presence known by fanning warm breaths against your cunt before tempting a taste, but she was tempting herself just as much as she was tempting you. One lick wasn't enough. Hell, it would never be enough unless Ellie was smothered in your slick, dripping down her neck, and struggling to breathe with her nose buried inside you.

She needed more.

"Sit on my face." She more so demanded, positioning herself on the bed, and her hands already on your waist, pulling you on top of her. 

"But Ellieuhh~" You wined against her lips until it turned into soft moans inside her mouth, her tongue twirling against your spongy muscle.

You straddled her waist and let her deepen the kiss however she wanted. Her hands began trailing under your dress, over your sides, and tits- palming and kneading the fat between her slender fingers.

Your clit thumped against her crotch- so hard to the point you were embarrassed she would feel it, but if only you knew how badly she ached for the same reason.

Your dress is peeled off your back and over your head- again being tossed somewhere without much thought from Ellie. And your hands were eager to do the same, both of you putting in the effort to take off Ellie's flannel, and Ellie taking it upon herself to discard her t-shirt underneath.

Your lips clash for another round, Ellie's arms cradling in the small of your back to hold your front closer to hers-

She broke away- lips glistening in a mixture of spit, casting a rose hue, and her irises blown wide-

"Fucking sit-" She gritted, her fingers tightening into the mounds of your ass before lightening her grip, "please." Her eyes softened- this time, begging.

What kind of girlfriend would you be to deny such a pretty little thing like herself of such needs? Especially when she asks so nicely.

You nodded shyly, and her arms wrapped around the underside of your thighs as you positioned yourself over her freckled face, your cheeks burning hotter by the second from the vulnerable position.

"What if I'm too heavy- ah-!" You yelped, the force of her hands pulling you down to her mouth catching you off guard, and definitely underprepared.

Your concerns seemed insufficient, and distant- her skilled tongue between your folds- lapping, and suctioning until her cheeks hallowed-

You melted against her tongue, slowly circling your hips and her fingers spreading the skin of your inner thighs so that she could wedge herself deeper into you.

Your hand breaks away from the headboard, coming down to intertwine your fingers in Ellie's hairline, squeezing her auburn locks close to the scalp, and held her in place as you dragged your cunt against her open mouth, using her like a toy.

Not like she was complaining.

"E-el... m'gonna cum-" You babbled, taking your bottom lip between your teeth, and rolling your head back, completely captivated in the pleasure that you didn't even notice how one of Ellie's hands was absent from your thigh, and had sunk below her waistband.

Ellie's moans became louder, muffled, but still audibly louder, sending a deep rattle into your core as her hips rolled up into her fingers, fucking herself, but with much more restraint than you'd expect from a drunk person. But the truth is, she didn't want to cum like this.

You release her hair, needing the extra hand to steady yourself.

Your voice pitched as you dragged your hips for the final time across her face, strings of slick still connecting the both of you as you lifted your hips away.

With wobbly legs, you start to carefully lift yourself, but you weren't moving fast enough for her.

Your body bounces against the springs of the mattress from the sheer speed of her attack, pushing you down with her on top of you.

You feel her hand wrapped around your airway, squeezing the sides enough to feel a certain dizziness that had you melting.

She kissed you, immediately giving you a taste of yourself on her tongue.

"Did you think we were done?" Her breath fanned over your ear, intoxicating you all over again, which gave Ellie just the right amount of time to distract you, shoving her pants and boxers down her legs before you could comprehend what was happening.

Ellie lifted herself, her abs flexing with each heave of her lungs, moving one of your legs the outside of hers by your ankle.

The smallest whine leaves your lips once you see her... like really see her, dancing your gaze from her face and down to the prominent 'v' shape of her hips, calculating her every move.

Ellie was eager. And she had absolutely no issue handling you more roughly to suit her needs, whether it be supporting her weight on the back of your thigh, pressing your knee into your chest, or stretching you to new lengths that burned your muscles.

And that's exactly what she did.

She wedged herself between your legs, all of her weight on you as she lowered herself, letting out a relieved sigh and tossing her head back as her cunt made contact with yours.

Her hipbones protruded with each rhythmic motion of her hips, starting slowly at first but quickly getting faster to match her desperation. As sensitive as you were, you wouldn't dare push her away, not when she was this close, and definitely not when she's mad, knowing she could make this so much worse for you.

Her green eyes disappeared behind her paper thin lids, and her head goes back, "You have no idea how- mmhm... how badly I've wanted to do this all night." Her voice was shaky, airy, but still maintained a bitter undertone that reminded you how you got here in the first place.

Ellie's patience was thinning, and the restraint she maintained up until this point had gone out the window.

Your eyes glazed over, watching her with a dumb, fucked out expression, and your jaw loosely hung to let out small, pathetic whines.

Ellie, however, was pussy drunk. There was no other way to explain it. Her brows cinched together at the middle and pushed on your leg, spreading you further apart to ensure full contact before collapsing on top of you, breathing into her neck, "pussy s'good- fuck... you make me feel so good..." Her fingers wrapped around your neck, her lips lazily dragging over your jaw and cheek to plant delicate kisses, which completely contradicted what she was doing below.

Her head drops, and you feel her grip close in around your airway, rutting her hips at a much shorter and jagged pace than before.

You whined her name and sunk your nails into her forearm, your head fuzzy and bordering on unconsciousness.

"Shit...fuck-" She lifted her head from your chest and met your eyes, "-I know, baby. I know." Her voice was soothing, filled with so much sympathy, but it didn't make her any less relentless.

She shushes you with her lips on yours, adding her own moans to the mixture as tears stain your cheeks and seep between the kiss, leaving a salty/sweet tinge on your tongue.

Her hips started to falter before continuing, dragging out a few more long and weary thrusts, her moans ricocheting into the back of your throat until her hips finally stilled.

She softens the kiss, pecking the corner of your mouth before pulling away, and lifts a hand to run the back of her knuckles over your cheek- so sweet and so comforting with the alcohol weakening in her bloodstream, making her realize the anger she felt before was misplaced.

Sweat gleamed across the highs of her cheeks and across her nose, the vibrant hue of her eyes returning and practically begging to be forgiven.

"I love you." She whispers, her voice slightly horse and dry, flickering her eyes to various points of your face.

No, it wasn't the traditional "I'm sorry", but you knew what she meant.

Your hands come up, cupping the sides of her face, and pull her down to your lips.

"Apology accepted."

[4milly]

childish - jey u.

parings: manipulative!jey uso x black!reader

warnings: angst, use of n word, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, jey being an asshole is my fav sorry, cream pie, shower sex, manipulative jey, impregnation, dacryphilia, dumbification (if you squint),

word count: 3.9k (I BEEN GONE I WANTED TO GIVE YALL SOME)

you make me so mad, but i just come right back. it’s like i can’t get over you…

the music blasting through the speakers was enough to tune out the sound of your phone ringing...for nearly the 100th time. sexy redd and a bottle of casamigos mixed together was good enough to take your mind off things, not erase them.

jey called. than he called again. and again. and againnnn. he was doing all he could to reach you. he could play stupid all he fucking wanted too, he knew what the fuck he did. minus the arguing all day—for the last year—, jacob going live on instagram with them in the club last night was the straw that broke the camels back.

"imma head to bed though, ma. my damn head is pounding against my skull and shit" he muttered through the phone on facetime last night.

the call ended with the two of you kissing the screen on some clingy teenager bullshit. you were all googly eyed at him, just completely enamored. your man, your man, your man...all to get a live sent to you 45 minutes later of him in the club with some groupie ass bitch grinding on his lap and his hands on her hips.

all day you were going back and forth, him wanting to know what the problem is and you dodging it, making shady subliminal posts on the gram instead.

"bitch, get out your fucking head! fuck that nigga! he gone feel you this time!" you snapped out of your thoughts hearing lana, your best friend. she was kind enough to round up all the girls, give you her most see through and shortest outfit, do your hair, and makeup. honestly? you felt horrible. you wanted to do nothing more but lay in bed and cry you eyes out. but that nagging anger bubbling inside you was stronger.

she was right. he was gone feel it this time. no matter how much you missed him, it was fuck him right now.

a smile broke out on your glossed lips as, get it sexy began to play, "aw shit nah. get it bitch! cmon y'all!" you all headed to the dance floor ready to leave your problems there.

you lowered to your knees, bouncing your ass to the music. the liquor was starting to flow through your veins rapidly. you even raised your dress up a little just below your ass. one wrong move and you'd be flashing everyone in this damn place.

your back collided with a strong chest, "you showing out over here, baby." the man groaned in your ear, snaking his hands over your waist to pull your ass towards his growing crotch.

the man started kissing and sucking on your neck whilst his hands snaked downwards to your exposed thighs. you leaned your head back against his shoulder, grinding your ass in a circle on his crotch. 

for a moment, your mind went to jey. you felt guilty. what he did was considered inappropriate, and it embarrassed the fuck out you. it was like every month for the last year, it was another random ass bitch he wanted to show his 32's too.

you knew jey would never cheat on you, but that didn't stop the insistent feeling that he didn't at least come close to. coming home smelling like perfume, taking pictures with random ho's from the club, the mall, or at wrestling events. liking their pictures on the gram. it's like you aren't enough for him anymore.

yet, just letting this man touch all on you made you sick. you had a man...even if it felt like you were in the relationship all alone.

"oh shit..." lana mumbled, her eyes nearly falling on the floor

the mans hands raised to squeeze one of your breast, just as he was yanked off you, "aye yo! what the fuck is this shit? this the shit yo ass fuckin doin? you got me so fucked up!"

speak of the devil they shall appear, i guess. anger radiated off jey's body. his nose flared, snarl on his face, and his dickriding ass cousins in tow right behind him. just perfect.

"boy fuck you! you can't take shit you dish out," you yelled back, frustration from the last 24 hours finally spilling out. "get the fuck out my face."

"how do you barge in here like that shit, after having some random—"

"mind yo hoe ass business, lana. you don't know shit about what the fuck you talkin' bout!"

you pushed jey backwards by his chest, "don't talk to her like that! chill—"

"fuck is yo ass even doin' in here! i'm callin' all day to see where my girl at and you letting some random ass motherfucka touch all on you?" jey's eyes narrowed with hatred as his voice continued to raise

"excuse me," a man clearing his throat caught everyone's attention, "i'm going to have to ask all of you to leave the property. this drama has no place here."

jey slowly nodded his head before kissing his teeth. his eyes held so much hate, you barely could recognize him. for a split second, you regretted this whole night. had you just stayed your ass home all this could've been avoided. but he had no right to be a hypocrite. especially, rolling in here with all that bass in his voice like he was a saint.

he mugged you up and down, "you know what? i'm out. have fun with yo hoe ass friends, mama. where that motherfuka at? i got a few condoms for ole boy"

jey's face snapped to the side. his cheek began to sting from the force of your hand, "you got some fucking nerve! you had a fucking headache last night, right? lemme guess, random ass bitches make you feel better? I was on that damn live. but im the hoe? hopefully yo chest hurt just as fuckin bad as my feelings do!"

the next morning felt like war. the house once filled with love between two lovers felt like a cage holding a lion and a tiger...one just waiting for the other to pounce. jey's face adorned with bags, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he stared at you in the kitchen. when the club owner forced everyone to get the fuck out of his establishment before he called the police, jey snatched you by your arm, pushing you into the car.

the whole ride home the both of you shouted at each other. name calling, you hitting the dashboard, him hitting the stirring wheel. the car felt like it was suffocating under the weight of all the things you both wanted to say but couldn’t find the right words for. instead? you choose to just say 'fuck you' over and over. his knuckles turned white as he gripped the wheel tighter, while your voice cracked from the strain of yelling. the tension was so thick, even the air outside the car seemed to press in through the windows. by the time you pulled into the driveway, the silence that followed was deafening, a sharp contrast to the chaos that had just unfolded. neither of you moved, both staring straight ahead, unwilling to be the first to speak or step out.

jey choose to sleep on the couch, giving you the option to sleep in the bedroom. this morning was no different than last night. neither one of you wanted to speak first. you were tired of arguing with him—tired of him especially. you were sick of the random ass insta tags from women, the dm's, getting sent live videos...it was too much. what was supposed to be growing together felt like growing apart.

you looked up over the counter to see jey still mean muggin' you, "stop fuckin' looking at me!" you finally snapped. call you childish, for starting a fight again, but he was the one doing this. not you.

"watch yo fuckin' voice hollerin' and shit at my ass. you was the one shakin' yo ass and shit in the club. all on instagram throwing shade at me, taking pictures of yo ass out. but im the damn problem. mane, get the fuck outta here with that," jey groaned rubbing his head in his hands

"so what? you can have bitches on your lap, but i dance on a nigga, and thats your problem? you're a fucking hypocrite! i hate your ass!" you instantly regretted that, not even just saying it. but thinking of it.

"i was pushing her off me! had yo ass looked you would've seen that shit! yo ass wasn't pushing ole boy off you. was you? yo ass wanted to get back at me so bad, you damn near was finna fuck him." the thought of you and the man was vivid in jey's mind. his eyes darkening all over.

"you're a fucking liar! you were letting her grind all in your lap! I seen it! what about a few weeks ago? the bitch from your job? asking you to autograph her panties?" you scoffed before looking away. the whole conversation was a dead end. it was getting no where. he was being a hypocrite and you only wanted your point to get across. but that was jey: never wanting to take accountability or listen to shit anybody else has to say.

"thats my fuckin' job! you know that shit!"

you threw your hands in the air, before walking into the bedroom. as you slammed the door behind you, your chest heaved with a mix of anger and frustration. you couldn’t wrap your head around how jey always managed to twist things, how he never took accountability for anything.

it felt like every fight ended the same—with you drained and him unfazed. you sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets as if they could anchor you to something solid. what stung more was the realization that he probably didn’t even care. it was like he lived in a world where he could do no wrong, and you were just a storm he had to wait out.

jey leaned back on the couch with a smug smirk creeping onto his face. he rubbed his jaw, shaking his head like the whole argument was nothing more than a joke, "always trippin’ over nothing," he muttered to himself, grabbing his phone and scrolling aimlessly on instagram. in his mind, he wasn’t the problem—you were.

all he’d done was go out, and you couldn’t handle it. he did have a headache, but when he felt better, his cousin invited him to the club.

after a few drinks started making their rounds, so did the women. he did let the woman dance on him, and he did grab her hips to grind against her. but as soon as he remembered you—how you were waiting at home in nothing but a shirt and a pair of panties, probably fresh out of the shower smelling like vanilla—he pushed her off him. it was just dancing.

nothing more.

He chuckled low under his breath, his ego shielding him from any self-reflection. "man, she really be actin’ like I’m out here wildin’ for real," he said to no one in particular, tossing his phone onto the coffee table.

to him, the whole fight was just another example of you being “dramatic.”

you’d come out of the room eventually, probably still mad, but Jey figured he’d smooth things over like he always did. after all, you weren’t going anywhere. at least, that’s what he told himself as he stretched out on the couch, arms behind his head, convinced he was untouchable.

the sound of the shower turning on caught his attention, the thought of you undressing, body soaked with water, instantly got him worked up. he immediately stood up, his body moving almost on its own accord. the temptation was too strong to resist. jey made his way to the bathroom door, listening intently to the sound of water hitting tile. he hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob.

Was this crossing a line? you were still upset with him, after all. But the image of your wet skin, droplets and soap cascading down your curves, consumed his thoughts. he swallowed hard, desire overriding his better judgment. he wanted to make up to you the only way he knew how.

slowly, he turned the knob and pushed the door open. steam billowed out, enveloping him in its warm embrace. through the foggy glass of the shower door, he could make out your silhouette. his breath caught in his throat as he watched you run your hands through your hair, completely unaware of his presence. he began to undress himself, leaving his clothes in a small pile near yours. his hand grabbing his rock hard dick, beginning to stroke it to the sight of your body.

jey's heart raced as he silently slid open the shower door, stepping into the warm spray behind you. you tensed, startled by his sudden presence, but didn't turn around. he placed his hands gently on your hips, pressing his body against your back.

"i'm sorry," he murmured against your neck, his lips grazing your wet skin. "let me make it up to you, mama."

you remained still, conflicted. part of you wanted to push him away, to hold onto your anger. but his touch sent shivers down your spine, awakening a familiar hunger.

jey's hands roamed up your sides, cupping your breasts as he kissed along your shoulder. a small gasp escaped your lips, betraying yourself. he smiled against your skin, knowing he was breaking through your defenses.

slowly, you turned to face him, water cascading down your front. your eyes stained red as tears flowed freely from them, "i love you, baby." he sighed before wrapping his arm under your thigh to push it against your chest, "you love me?"

you knew his question was a ploy to get you to break down. you feel for it every time. you nodded weakly, your resolve crumbling. "i love you too," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rush of water.

his signature smirk appeared on his face—he won. you weren't going anywhere. he kissed you deeply, passionately, as if trying to convey all his emotions through that single act. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, your body betraying your lingering anger.

you knew you should resist, should hold onto your anger, but your body responded to his touch instinct. jey's lips crashed into yours, passionate and hungry. you melted into his embrace, your body responding to his touch despite your lingering hurt. his fingers dug into your thigh as he pressed you against the cool tile wall.

"show me," he growled, nipping at your earlobe. "show me how much you love me, mama."

he positioned himself at your entrance, sliding his dick between your folds. your arousal leaking all over him, "its yo dick, mama. you all mines. y'hear me? ion want nobody else..." you whimpered as Jey teased you, your body trembling with need.

"fuck," you breathed, your fingers digging into his shoulders, "i need you so bad."

jey smirked, clearly pleased with your surrender. in one swift motion, he thrust into you with a grunt at the feelings of your pussy hugging him tightly, filling you completely. you cried out, overwhelmed by the sensation, "that's right, mama. no one else can make you feel this good. yea?"

"look at you, taking my dick so well," he purred, his voice dripping with arrogance. "you can't stay mad at me when I'm fucking you like this, can you?"

you shook your head weakly, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through your body. your anger melted away, replaced by a desperate need for more.

"tell me I'm the best you ever had," jey demanded, his ego swelling with every word, his voice low and dripping with arrogance as he leaned closer, his eyes locked on yours like a challenge he knew he’d already won

as he began to move, setting a punishing rhythm, you lost yourself in the sensations. the steam, the heat of his body, the fullness of him inside you, was all so familiar. all of jey's apologies ended this way. you lowered your head into the crook of his neck as your mewls bounced off the glass walls. jey felt the sensation of tears on his shoulder, warm and damp against his skin. at first, he rolled his eyes, a slight smirk tugging at his lips again.

the more he moved, the less pain you felt—and soon you were taking him so well. his dick was coated in your slick, a ring of white started form around his base as he plunged in and out of your pussy.

you felt pathetic. here you were; screaming and yelling at jey for being so inconsiderate about your relationship, inappropriate with other women, swearing you were done with him...and now you're crying about letting him fuck you in the shower. his dick thrusting in and out of your pussy, and bouncing you on it.

right where you belonged.

"this all you needed right, mama? stop crying. tell me whatchu needed. you just wanted to get fucked, hm?" jey laughed breathlessly, pressing you deeper against the wall as his hips pounded into you, "gotta remind my girl she ain't leavin' me. only place she belongs is right here. fuck me back, baby."

jey placed small kisses on your cheeks, where your tears rolled down. you hated him for making you like this—complete putty in his hands. you knew he was ruining you for all others. but what could you say? no matter how many fights, you still loved him. everything with him just felt right. you couldn't picture it with anybody else.

he chuckled darkly, increasing his pace. "that's right, mama. you all mine. no matter how mad you get."

your pussy clenched around him. the only sound in the room was you pussy making obscene noises every time he stroked, "j-jey.." you sobbed out against his shoulder as jey hit that perfect spot deep inside you.

he was like an animal in your ear: grunting and growling as he pounded you with little regard.

"i-i hate you," you whimpered unconvincingly, your walls clenching around him.

jey laughed, the sound rich and condescending. "no you don't, mama. you close? focus on cummin' baby. i love that shit."

each thrust puts stars in your vision. he’s splitting you open from behind with a steady, strong pace. your pussy clenches down on his cock and he curses under his breath at the feeling. he loved how you squeezed his length as quiet, pained mewls escaped your throat. your stomach dropped and your hips shuddered as he went deeper and deeper inside of you. your mouth opened on a loud string of sobs as you push your hips towards his. you felt your belly start to tighten as his strokes sped up.

"m-m-m gonna c-cummm," you let out a strangled cry as your orgasm flooded the both of you.

"shit! fuck, baby. you can take it. it's your dick" he growled as your pussy tightened from overstimulation. it made his eyes roll and stomach clench so hard that it hurts.

"you ha-have to pull, aw fuck! you have to pull out." you and jey always used some sort of protection. jey remembered, you mentioning how you forgot to renew your birth control pills. he finally found his way out of another one of your dramatic ass arguments. he was gonna make you a mommy, "w-we can't bring a baby into th—"

"shh, shh," he hushed your protest as his hips continued to rock into your pussy, his dick coated in a sheer layer of white slicking him up, "don't worry bout that, right now. just focus on cummin' again, baby. you so pretty when you do." his voice almost hypnotic

jey's thrusts grew even more forceful, your body bouncing against the slick tile with each powerful movement. He gripped your thighs tighter, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he held you in place.

you sniffled as you finally calmed down. your body still betraying you by leaking onto jey's dick. he pressed his lips to yours and groaned spilling rope after rope inside you with choking gasps. your over-sensitive, aching pussy twitches at the feeling of his hot cum inside of you, sending another mini orgasm out of you. he kept his dick plugged inside of you, feeding you soft thrust, making sure all his cum was drained into you.

"you know I love you, right?" he let out a small chuckle, his tone dripping with amusement as he pressed soft kisses on your face—your eyes welling with tears again, "i told you it wasn't that deep. stop being so childish, ight? y'know you my baby. no other motherfucka but you."

you blinked, confused, a mix of frustration and guilt clouding your thoughts. he could see it in your eyes, how the doubt started to creep in. you opened your mouth to argue but found yourself hesitating. the way he framed it, the way he made you feel like the one in the wrong, made you question everything, "you're right...i'm sorry, jey. i really am."

"that's what i thought," jey murmured, his smile widening as he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you like nothing had ever happened. his touch felt possessive, almost reassuring, but you couldn’t shake the knot in your stomach.

you’d said it—apologized when it wasn’t even your fault—but his manipulation left you feeling small, but once again, it didn't bother you.

he kissed the top of your head, acting like everything was fine, like the argument had never happened. "you’re good, baby," he whispered, his voice smooth, convincing. "stop letting these lil things mess wit us. we gone start our own lil family soon. my baby's gonna have my baby."

his words made your pussy soak his dick again absentmindedly and tighten all over. your body betrayed you once again, your pussy clenching and fluttering around jey's softening cock still buried inside you. a rush of warmth flooded your core as you felt his seed seeping deeper, seeking out your womb with primal purpose. your inner walls rippled with aftershocks, milking every last drop from him as if desperate to be filled.

jey set this up...he flooded his cum into you and right now it was rushing towards your womb. you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the right time, and maybe, just maybe, jey wasn’t the right person. yet, it all still felt so perfect.

his voice was honey-sweet, dripping with false tenderness that you desperately wanted to believe. "yo body knows what it needs, even when that pretty lil head of yours get all mixed up with drama and being childish."

you nodded, your chest tight as you fought the overwhelming urge to pull away, to tell him the truth—that this wasn’t okay, that it shouldn’t be this way. but you didn’t. because the way he looked at you, so certain and calm, made you second guess yourself again.

yet, imagine the look on your face when you see two pink lines on a pregnancy test 3 weeks later and a DM of a video with another woman's lips on your mans in the back of the club. but of course, he was pushing her off...right?

right?

❦

don’t forget to follow and reblog! drop me a comment too, i love reading those. <3

tags:

@caramelcleopatraa @harmshake @msbigredmachine @angiedawn02 @amandairene88 @cyberdejos2 @queeny23 @empressdede @trentybenty @heauxvibez @whatdoeseverybodywant @shes2real @romansthrone @southerngirl41 @jaza23 @prettyfilmz @uceyliyahh @strxwberry-milku

merry christmas! 💘

[returnofthegroupies]

RETURN OF THE GROUPIES... GROUPIES HAS GOT TO EAT TOO

https://www.tumblr.com/returnofthegroupies

[keeryhours]

wildflower chapter four

Eddie Munson x Henderson! female reader, Steve Harrington x reader

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Summary:

Eddie shows up drunk.

Warnings:

Drinking, Eddie being a perv, angst, secret baby

Word Count: 3k

A/N:

Shout out to @punkrockmlchael for the help with this one!

—

It was a week later, and Eddie hadn’t seen or heard from you again. Not that he had tried. He knew what Wayne thought, what he thought, too, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He couldn’t bring himself to pick up the phone, or drive to your apartment and demand to talk. He was a coward.

Now, he was drinking again, just like he’d done every day since he’d found out.

“Eddie’s here!”

The band cheered as Eddie walked into The Hideout, clearly after already pre gaming at home. He was already swaying as he approached the bar where Gareth, Jeff, and Doug sat, and they noticed immediately.

“Rough night?” Gareth asked with an eyebrow raised as Eddie sat down next to him, ordering a round of shots.

“You have no fuckin’ idea,” Eddie mumbled, downing a shot the second they were placed in front of him. Gareth reached for one but Eddie waved him off. “These are for me, fucker.”

Gareth backed off, hands up defensively. “Okay, okay. What’s up with you?”

Eddie downed three more shots in succession. Jeff and Doug were staring at him, too - sure, Eddie liked to drink, but not like this. Something was obviously very wrong.

“Talk to us, man,” Jeff added.

Eddie ordered some more shots. He would need them. “I got some…news.”

If the boys weren’t concerned before, they certainly were now. “What, are you dying or something?” Gareth asked, genuinely worried for his friend despite his wording.

Eddie laughed, but there wasn’t much humor behind it. “No.”

“Well what’s up then, man?” Doug asked. “You’re worrying us.”

Eddie downed another two shots. He was on his way to a blackout. “I have a son.”

It went silent. Then, the guys all broke out into nervous laughter. “Good one, man,” Gareth said, his voice uncertain. Eddie didn’t look like he was joking, but he had to be. There was no way he had a kid.

“I’m serious,” Eddie said, his eyes locked on the shots in front of him. “I have a son. He’s almost 2. His name is Asher.” He downed another. “And I’ve never met him. Don’t know shit about him, b’sides what he looks like. I dunno what he likes, or if he’s anything like me. I don’t know shit.”

Gareth, Jeff, and Doug were silent. They exchanged a confused look. Finally, Gareth spoke up again. “Ed, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“I told you.” Eddie slammed down another shot glass, causing the guys to jump. “I have a kid. A son.”

“Are you being serious?” Jeff asked, nursing his own beer. The guys would all need a drink after this conversation.

“Yes,” Eddie said. “I just found out.”

It was silent for a minute. “With who?” Gareth asked. “A groupie? Or…” It dawned on the group at once. “Oh shit.”

“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, voice slurring even more heavily, “Oh shit.”

“How…what the fuck?” Gareth said, trying to wrap his mind around the situation. “She didn’t tell you?”

Another shot. “Nope.”

“So she just…talked to you while we were gone, and never mentioned anything?” Doug asked.

Eddie laughed humorlessly again, looking down at the empty shot glass in his hand. “I never called her,” he admitted. “Like a fucking idiot.”

“What the hell, man?” Gareth asked, looking at Eddie incredulously. “You never called her? I thought you loved her.”

Eddie waved a hand. “I don’t need the lecture all over again, Gare.”

Eddie drank himself stupid that night. The guys tried to get him to slow down, but he wasn’t having any of it. By the time the other bandmates were nearing drunk, Eddie was beyond wasted, barely able to sit up on the barstool.

“I gotta go,” he slurred, taking multiple tries to stand up.

“Where you going?” Gareth asked.

Eddie didn’t answer. He stumbled his way out of the bar, into the car waiting for him. He gave the driver the address that hadn’t left his head for a single second.

—

Your mind had been racing with thoughts of Eddie since the argument. You thought about calling him, but you felt that it was his responsibility to step up if that’s what he wanted to do. You weren’t going to chase him, that was for sure.

Asher was spending the night at your mom’s again, giving you the night to yourself. Your mom and Dustin loved their grandma and Uncle Dusty time, and you were grateful for the break, because you felt like you’d been going crazy since Eddie came back into your life.

You were just getting comfortable in bed when there was a knock at the door.

You checked the clock on the bedside table. 12am. Who the fuck would be knocking on your door in the middle of the night?

You grabbed the baseball bat Steve insisted you keep for protection and cautiously neared the front door. You peered through the peephole, seeing nothing but blackness. That was weird.

You kept the top chain bolt hooked in as you unlocked the door and opened it the few inches it allowed you. The figure on the other side, who had apparently been leaning against the door, stumbled forward. “Oh, shit,” he uttered, catching his balance with a giggle.

You narrowed your eyes. “Eddie?”

“Hey, baby,” he slurred, some attempt at a flirtatious smirk on his face. “Can I come in?”

“Jesus Christ, you’re wasted,” you remarked, observing how incredibly drunk he looked. He was sweating, his cheeks flushed red, and he smelled like alcohol. “Fuck. Come in, I guess.”

You unlocked the chain bolt and opened the door wide, letting him stumble inside. He knocked over the picture frames by the front door as he came in, and you cursed under your breath as you sat the bat down and picked them up.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You asked him, watching as he collapsed onto your couch with a little “Oof.”

“‘s he here?” Eddie slurred, looking around the apartment.

“Who? Asher?” You asked.

“Yeah.”

“No. He’s at my mom’s.” And good thing, you thought, because this was the last way he needed to meet his father.

“Claudia?”

“…Yeah. Claudia’s still my mom.”

Eddie heaved a heavy sigh. “She always liked me.”

“Yeah, well,” you said, adjusting the frames he had knocked over back the way you had them, “a lot has changed since you disappeared on us.”

“‘m really sorry,” Eddie said, catching you by surprise. “I was so stupid. So fuckin’ stupid.” He looked like he might be starting to cry as he wiped at his face. “I missed you every day.”

You felt yourself start to soften, despite your anger at what he had done. “I missed you, too. That’s why it hurt so bad.”

Eddie shook his head, wild curls bouncing. “So fuckin’ stupid. Big fuckin’ idiot. Dumbest person on the planet.”

You sighed, sitting on the couch next to him. He really reeked like alcohol. “It’s okay, Eds. You’re drunk. We don’t need to talk about it right now.”

He turned to you abruptly, grabbing onto your hands and catching you by surprise. “I love you. Y’know that? I’ve always loved you. I still love you. I’ll always love you.”

Your expression softened to one of pity and hurt. You’d wanted to hear those words for so long, but not while he was wasted on your couch after not hearing a word from him for two years. “Come on, Eddie. You reek. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You helped him off the couch and to the bathroom. You ran a hot shower, helping peel off his gross clothes. You had seen Eddie naked a million times, so you weren’t bothered. But he kept trying to grab at you, and he was half hard as you got him undressed.

“Not tonight, big boy,” you told him as you pushed him into the shower. Eddie grumbled under his breath.

“Come in with me,” he begged, and you weren’t planning to, but you were getting soaked trying to keep him upright and help him wash. You pulled off your pajamas, stepping into the shower as Eddie gave you a wolfish grin.

“No touching,” you reminded him sternly.

He held his hands up. “Yes ma’am. Looking only.”

You rolled your eyes as you put some shampoo in the palm of your hand and began washing his wild hair. Eddie closed his eyes and hummed as you massaged his scalp, relaxing beneath your touch. He stumbled as he nearly fell asleep from the feeling.

“Woah, I’m gonna need you to stay awake for me,” you told him, pushing him under the stream of water to rinse the shampoo out. “I can’t drag you out of here if you pass out on me.”

“‘m not gonna pass out,” he assured you, but you weren’t sure if you fully believed him.

You lathered conditioner into his hair then put some body wash on your loofah. You scrubbed his whole body, washing away the sweat and alcohol. He wiggled his eyebrows at you as you washed him, but you ignored him.

As you washed his body, you noticed a new tattoo you’d never seen before - your name in a swirling script, right on his hip. He certainly hadn’t had that when he left. Your heart clenched in your chest, but you pushed the feelings away.

You pushed him under the water a final time, rinsing him off, before you switched spots with him and washed yourself, too. Might as well.

You turned the shower head off and climbed out, grabbing three towels. You wrapped one around your body and one around your hair and handed the third to Eddie. He shook his head like a dog, sprinkling water all around the bathroom as you glared at him.

Eddie dried himself off, leaning against the shower wall for support. When he was done, you helped him out and back into the living room.

“I think I have some of Steve’s sweatpants around here somewhere…” you mumbled to yourself as you left Eddie on the couch and walked into your bedroom, digging through your dresser drawers. You felt triumphant as you found the grey sweatpants, returning to the living room with them.

You handed them to Eddie, but quickly found he was too drunk to dress himself. You pulled him up, and he held onto your shoulders as you helped him step into the pants one leg at a time, like you would with Asher.

He fell back onto the couch again. You helped him lay down and covered him with the blanket on the back of the couch. “Get some sleep,” you told him. “You’re gonna feel like shit in the morning.”

You turned to walk away, but you were stopped by Eddie grabbing onto your hand. You turned, seeing his sleepy eyes looking up at you.

“Please don’t leave me,” he said, sounding pathetically sad. Despite yourself, you felt bad for him.

“I can’t fit on the couch with you, Eds,” you told him.

“Can I sleep in your bed with you?”

Your mouth opened to tell him no, but the words didn’t come out. You thought for a moment. “Yeah, I guess.”

Eddie smiled, and you helped him up and into your bedroom. He fell onto your bed, snuggling into the blankets and pillows. “So comfy,” he muttered, voice muffled into the pillow.

You climbed into bed next to him, even more exhausted now. It was seconds later when you heard soft snores from next to you, and you couldn’t help smiling softly to yourself. It felt so domestic, so familiar, you could almost imagine it was years ago and this was your normal.

But things were different now.

—

Eddie woke the next morning with the worst pounding headache. The sunlight through the window burned his eyes, and he pulled the blankets over his head with a groan.

The first thing he noticed was that the smell of the detergent was unfamiliar. He opened his eyes again, seeing the clean bedroom, the light purple comforter, the framed photos decorating the space. He looked to the side and saw a bottle of water and some Tylenol waiting for him.

He recognized the room immediately. He was at your apartment again. God, what the fuck did I do?

He popped the medicine bottle open and took 3 of them, washing them down with the water. He was shirtless, dressed in some grey sweatpants he didn’t recognize.

He cautiously crawled out of bed, taking the time to make it before he left the room. He found you in the kitchen, cooking breakfast. It smelled delicious, and he saw eggs and pancakes waiting on the counter as you fried the bacon. You turned as you heard his footsteps.

“Good morning,” you greeted, and he couldn’t tell if you were upset with him or not.

“Morning,” he said, tentatively approaching you. “Uh, did we…?”

“No,” you answered simply. You removed the pan from the heat and plated the bacon. “You should eat. I’m sure you feel like shit.”

He definitely did. You made plates for both of you, and he sat at the kitchen table across from you. “What…what happened last night?” He asked, before quickly digging into the breakfast feast you’d prepared.

“Well, you showed up at my door completely wasted,” you said, picking at your own plate. “I gave you a shower because you smelled like a bottle of whiskey. Then you asked to sleep in my bed with me.” You didn’t mention the way he’d tried for more.

Eddie’s cheeks blushed red with embarrassment. “Jesus. I’m so sorry.”

You shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Is…”

“No, Asher isn’t here.”

Eddie breathed a sigh of relief. He would feel even more like the worst dad in the world if he’d met his son for the first time in that state. “Look, I was thinking…”

You looked up at him. “What?”

Eddie took a bite of his eggs, stalling. He realized you’d made them just the way he preferred them, even though you liked your eggs softer. “I’d like to meet him.”

You thought for a moment, pushing your food around your plate. “Yeah. We could do that.”

Eddie was surprised at the amount of relief he felt. He wouldn’t have blamed you if you’d said no. “Can I ask about him?”

You raised your eyebrows. “Yeah, of course.”

“What’s his favorite color?”

You smiled to yourself. “Blue. Like Thomas.”

Eddie smiled, too. “He likes trains?”

“Loves them.”

“What does he like to watch?”

“Mostly Sesame Street,” you said, “but he’s starting to get into the Ninja Turtles now.”

Eddie laughed. He could picture the little boy dancing to the theme song. “Is he anything like me?”

“God,” you said, huffing a small laugh. “Just like you.”

Eddie felt pride at that answer, for some reason. “Yeah?”

“Hell yes,” you said, shaking your head as you took a bite of bacon. “He’s wild. Loves to climb. He loves music, especially metal. He watches the music videos on MTV and tries to headbang along with them. He’s got the hair for it.”

Eddie laughed hard. “Oh my god. I’ve got to see that.”

It went quiet again as the two of you ate, and Eddie lost himself in his thoughts. He thought about how much he’d missed, how his son didn’t even know who he was. When he spoke up again, his tone was serious. “Does he know he has a dad?”

You paused, thinking of how to answer. “I…don’t think he really understands yet,” you said finally. “I guess he kind of sees Steve as a father figure, since he’s around all the time.”

That made Eddie feel sick to his stomach. The idea of Steve being a dad to his kid made him angry - even though he knew he didn’t really have the right to be. He was the one who left and never called, after all.

“But you know,” you said, sensing the hurt Eddie was feeling, “it’s not too late.”

Eddie nodded. He knew that was true. He had a lot to make up for, but Asher was young enough that he could make up for lost time. And he was determined to.

“When do you think I could meet him?” Eddie asked.

You thought for a moment. “You could come over tomorrow?”

Eddie smiled softly. “I’d like that.” He ate another bite of eggs. “Wayne wants to meet him, too.”

You smiled at the mention of his uncle. “I’ve missed Wayne.”

Eddie snorted. “He’s missed you too, believe me.”

The two of you finished the rest of your breakfast in silence. Eddie washed up after - it was the least he could do, he said, after you had essentially taken care of him last night. When he was done, you met him in the living room with his clothes from last night, freshly washed and dried. He felt guilty and grateful as he took them from you.

He changed back into his own clothes in your bedroom. When he was done, he examined the photos decorating the room that he hadn’t noticed when he’d been here before. There were plenty of Asher - he featured in most of them, in fact. Photos of you with Claudia and Dustin, with Steve and Robin. He even found the photo from when you and Eddie had gone to prom together among them. He smiled at the memory, looking at your high school selves. You looked happy. Happier than he’d seen you since he’d gotten back.

He wondered if he was the one who’d taken that sparkle out of your eyes.

When he left the bedroom, you were curled on the couch, watching an episode of Freddy’s Nightmares. Eddie approached, watching over your shoulder for a minute.

“I should probably get going,” he said, startling you. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t hear you,” you laughed lightly. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow? He wakes up from his nap around 2:30.”

“Yeah. Sounds good.” Eddie headed to the door, and you followed. “I’ll see you then.”

“Bye, Eds.”

“Bye.”

You closed the door behind him, locking it. You’d be going to pick up Asher soon, but for now you’d sit in the peace and quiet. You leaned your back against the door, thinking that maybe things could be okay.

tag list

@awkward00noodle @american-idiot-jpg @georgeweasleyslostearhq @fandom-princess-forevermore @emxxblog @hopesicle @hellv1ra @whimsiwitchy @avalon-wolf @kellsck @toomuchbucky @sashaphantomhive @losingmygrasponreality @the-disaster-in-waiting @eddiesgirl1944 @ashcal99 @richardsamboramylove55 @ilovetaquitosmmmm @allhailtheslothoverlord @micheledawn1975 @browneyes528 @costellation-hunter @taccobelle

[vinyldreamsfuckup]

Can you write a slash fic about him liking the reader and the whole group knows but he like denies ever liking her and says he would “never like her because she’s weird” and she overheard and starts to distance herself - slash is confused and notices that she isn’t talking to him much and tries not to get upset.

It isn’t until they were all hanging out at the whiskey and duff points out that the reader is being flirted with by some other guy - slash is mad and takes a couple drinks before deciding to pull her away from the guy because he was jealous. With smut involved :)

Thank you I hope this isn’t a lot and of course get to it when you can - I love your writing by the way :3

A: I love this idea so much omg. Also thank you so much 🥹🫶🏻 I really really hope I did this justice!! This is so long. I hope that’s okay🫣

Warnings: drinking, praise, slash x fem, smut, oral (female receiving), fingering (female receiving), semi-public sex, use of y/n once.

You were on your way to bring Slash lunch at Hell House. Guns had been working on their new album pretty constantly and you knew he would forget to eat if he wasn’t reminded. As you walked up the porch of the house you heard laughter. You paused for a second.

“Dude we all know you like her,” Axl said. His words were slightly slurred. He was probably drunk.

“No I don’t,” Slash laughed out.

“No you totally do. Admit it. You totally like y/n,” Izzy said. This caused your heart to jump. You? You had the biggest crush on Slash and you thought he liked you too but you had never talked about it. You were just friends.

“Guys come on,” Slash said chuckling a little.

“Admit it, seriously,” Steven chuckled.

“I don’t like her. Come on guys. She’s fucking weird you know that! I’d never like her like that. She’s just a friend,” Slash laughed out.

Your heart broke into a million pieces. You set the food on the floor in front of the door and quickly ran down the stairs. You ran until you couldn’t anymore. Weird? You didn’t think you were weird. Quirky maybe, but weird? You liked rock music and you were into nerdy things but you also worked at the Whiskey. Plus Slash was into nerdy things too! That’s what helped bond you guys. You were a great bartender and you were great with people. You had become such close friends with all the guys. How were you weird?

When you got home that night you just sat on your couch and drank some Jack Daniel’s. Slash’s words echoed in your head. You thought about all the times you and Slash had hung out. He never acted like anything was weird or like he didn’t enjoy hanging out with you. In fact you guys always watched movies and smoked joints together. He’d listen to your stories about the drunk people at work and you’d listen to his stories about new band drama or the most recent groupie who threw herself at him. He’d always say how much he’d wished they could just stay up all night and talk. How he’d never get tired of listening to you. The more you drank the more angry you got. Until the phone rang and pulled you away from your thoughts.

“Hello?” You slurred into the phone as you answered it.

“Hey,” Slash said on the other side. You froze for a second.

“What’s up?” You asked, trying not to sound quite as drunk as you were.

“I got the food you left. Why didn’t you come in and say hi?” Slash asked. You could hear him twirling the chord of the phone. Well shit. What do you say now?

“Um…I don’t know. You guys sounded busy thought it would be better not to bother you guys,” You cleared your throat then took another swig from the Jack Daniel’s bottle. That was a good enough excuse.

“You never bother us? What are you talking about?” Slash said, you heard rustling on the other side of the phone.

“Nothing. Hey. I’ll let you go. See you later,” you said and pulled the phone from your ear.

“Wait wha-“ Slash started but you hung up the phone. You walked into your bedroom took another long swig of Jack Daniel’s and then sat on your bed. What the fuck?

The whole next day Slash tried to call you to which you didn’t answer. That was until there was a loud knock at your door. You opened it wearing your oversized Motörhead t-shirt and jean shorts. Slash stood on the other side of the door. He was wearing a tight Led Zeppelin t-shirt with the sleeves slightly rolled up and some leather pants. He had food in his hands and a horror movie.

“I have food. To repay you. Can I come in?” Slash asked as he walked into your apartment.

“What?” You asked looking at him.

“I brought you food. Oh and I brought that horror movie I was telling you about! The Omen. I think you’ll love it! Can we watch it?” Slash asked. He plopped down on your couch and waited for your answer. He set the food on the coffee table and started pulling out the Mexican food from the bags.

“You know. Now’s not really a good time,” You said carefully. You grabbed a bottle of Jack and took a swig. Slash’s words still echoed in your brain. He’d never like you. He’s just your friend.

Slash looked at you and furrowed his eyebrows, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine,” You smiled tightly and leaned against the kitchen counter.

“You’re lying. I know something’s wrong. Why won’t you talk to me?” Slash asked. He walked to you and placed his hand on the counter next to you, “I know you. Why are you pushing me away?”

God why did he have to look at you like that? His brown eyes searched your face. He looked so confused and hurt. All you could think about were his words. How he said he’d never like you.

“I’m not. Believe it or not I do have a life outside of catering to you,” You pushed past him and walked toward you room.

Slash looked at you with his eyebrows furrowed, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m just tired. I have work so I’ll see you later okay?” You ushered Slash toward the door. He nodded slightly.

“Promise you’re okay?” Slash asked as he walked out the door.

“Yeah. Yeah I promise,” You smiled slightly.

“Rain check then?” Slash asked with a smile as his necklaces clanked together.

“Rain check,” You said with a tight smile and he walked back down the hallway.

The next night you went to work at the Whiskey. You wore your black lace corset and black leather pants. Your hair was pulled back into a ponytail and you were wearing eyeliner, mascara and a deep red lipstick. Metallica was playing that night and you knew it would be a wild show. Whenever you had the more popular bands played it was a wild night. Metallica were definitely getting more and more popular and it was going to be a quite the show.

You were working behind the bar and helping customers when Kirk Hammett walked up to you. You finished helping the customer then turned your attention to him. Yeah. You definitely had a type.

“Hi,” you smiled, “what can I get for you?”

Kirk smiled his goofy smile at you, “Can I just get a beer please? And you can start a tab I’m in the band.”

You grabbed his card and started a tab for him, “bottle or draft?”

“Hmmm what do you have?” Kirk asked. He leaned forward resting his hands against the bar. He stared at you. You could feel your stomach turn excitedly.

“Um…Budweiser and Heineken are both bottle and draft. Then we have bud light and blue ribbon in bottles,” I smiled. He nodded and smiled.

“I’ll have a Heineken. Draft,” he smiled. You poured the glass of beer and set it in front him.

“And what about you? Are you available?” Kirk asked with a smile before taking a sip of his drink. The door opened and Slash walked in with Duff and Axl. You took a deep breath and looked back at Kirk.

“I am available,” you leaned forward slightly. He took another sip of his beer.

“Well thank god for that,” Kirk chuckled, “so why is that? A beautiful woman such as yourself should never have to be alone.”

You smiled and straightened, “A charmer? How tempting.”

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Why aren’t you talking to her?” Duff asked Slash.

“Well she’s barely talked to me. She kicked me out yesterday and said she had work, but she didn’t,” Slash said with a sigh.

“You think she likes you?” Duff asked with a small chuckle. Slash’s heart rate increased. He hoped you liked him.

“I don’t know,” Slash sighed.

“Maybe she’s not interested Slashy poo,” axl chuckled, “but she knows you totally are.”

“Dude shut up,” Slash leaned back in his seat.

“You’re into her. We can all see it. I don’t get why you won’t just admit it,” Duff said as he stood up, “I’m going to go get us drinks.”

Axl smiled, “No one is going to judge you if you like her. You two clearly get along. She clearly makes you happy. Plus she’s fucking hot.”

Slash looked at Axl, “She’s not like all the other girls though. You know? Like Erin and Adriana. They’re loose and hot and they come to all the shows. She’s different.”

“That’s a good thing man. You don’t want someone like Adriana,” Axl chuckled, “Like seriously you are much more of a one woman man.”

Slash nodded and looked at Axl, “You really wouldn’t mind?”

“Dude we’re all rooting for you two to get together, no one’s going to give a fuck,” Axl laughed. Duff came back and set a glass of whiskey in front of Slash and a beer in front of Axl.

“Dude, she’s totally getting hit on over there,” Duff chuckled and pointed to where you and Kirk were talking and flirting.

Slash felt his blood boil and his heart rate increase, “why would that be happening?”

Duff shrugged, “I totally thought she was into you. Maybe she’s not.”

Slash's anger spiked. Why were you pulling away? Why had you kicked him out? Why were you flirting with someone else. He thought you guys liked each other. He looked over and saw you flirting with Kirk. Another bartender walked out and spoke to you before starting to help with customers. Slash stood up and knocked back his whole glass of whiskey before walking up to you.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You went back to talking to Kirk as your coworker helped with other customers. You and Kirk were laughing and flirting when Slash's loud footsteps approached the bar. You straightened and looked at him.

“Hey. We need to talk,” Slash said to you. You furrowed your eyebrows.

"About wha-" You started.

"Now." Slash said sternly. You took a deep breath.

You looked over at Kirk, "Excuse me a second."

Kirk nodded and took another sip of his beer. You walked out from behind the bar and Slash grabbed your arm and pulled you to the backstage area. He pushed open one of the rooms and dragged you into it.

"Slash what are you-" You started before Slash cut you off again.

"What the fuck is going on?" Slash asked. He was angry now.

"What?" You said back fully confused.

"Why the fuck are you pulling away? And flirting with some guy at the bar? Why haven't you fucking talked to me?" Slash asked getting more and more worked up.

"Why the fuck do you care? It's not like I'm your girlfriend?" You nearly yelled back at him.

Slash was taken aback, "What?"

"Yeah. I'm too "weird" to deserve that title aren't I?" You barked out. Slash's face fell.

"No. No. Did you hear me say all that stuff the other day?" Slash asked worriedly. His hands found your waist.

"Don't back pedal now, Hudson. It's fine," You opened the door and started to walk out. He grabbed your arm and pulled you in close to him.

"Let me explain," He whispered, his mouth was inches from your now. He pushed the door closed and then pushed you against it. You looked up at him and took a deep breath.

"I'm in love with you. I thought it was obvious," Slash whispered. You felt heat pool in your abdomen, "I have loved you for months."

"Wh-why didn't you do anything?" You said shakily. Slash smiled.

"I like the chase," Slash grabbed your chin and tilted it up, "Now let me remind you why you shouldn't be flirting with other guys."

Slash started to kiss down your neck and chest and over your cleavage. He started to undo your leather pants and his hand slipped in, his fingers brushing firmly over your panties. You took a sharp inhale and he smiled. He pushed past your panties and started to rub his fingers against your clit. A long moan left your mouth.

"Fuck...you're so wet. Is all of this for me?" Slash asked with a smile. His mouth connected back with your neck and his fingers moved quickly.

"Oh god...Slash..." You moaned out. Your hand tangled into his hair. He groaned against your neck and dropped to his knees. He undid your Doc Martens and pulled them off before quickly pulling your leather pants and underwear off your legs. He lifted a leg and wrapped it around his shoulder.

"God look at you," His hot breath hit your cunt and you groaned, "You're so fucking hot."

His tongue dragged up the length of your folds and you moaned loudly, your hand tangling into his curls again. He moaned against you causing vibrations to rattle through your body. It felt so good. He felt so good.

"Fuck...Slash..." You moaned loudly. He smiled and let his tongue find your bundle of nerves. He added pressure and stuck a finger in a gasp fell from your mouth. He groaned against you and his fingers moved as he fucked you.

"Mmmm so tight," He mumbled against you cunt. He added another finger earning another long moan. His tongue moved against your clit and he curved his finger hitting your g-spot as he fucked you. The sound of wet skin and moans filled the room. You didn't even care if anyone heard you. It felt so good. You felt that familiar tightness in your abdomen.

"Oh my god...Slash...I'm close" You groaned. His fingers and tongue moved faster and harder earning louder and louder moans until you came all over his finger. He stood up and licked his fingers.

"God you taste so good," Slash mumbled. You reached for his belt and undid it quickly. He smiled down at you and pressed your lips together. You quickly unzipped his pants and let them pool around his ankles. He wasn't wearing any underwear. Perfect. Easy. He lifted you up and pressed you against the door before pushing into you in one thrust.

"Fuck Slash...you feel so good," You moaned out loudly. He smiled and started to rock against you roughly. Loud moans fell from both of your mouths as you moved.

"You're so good. Fuck...oh my god. So good," Slash groaned as he fucked you senseless, "Yes...You're so pretty. Letting me fuck you like this."

You moaned and connected your lips. Long moans and breaths fell into each other's mouth. He started to move more sloppily and harder.

"Slash...Fuck...Oh my god...I'm close," You groaned out. He nodded and groaned louder. His head fell back and he came loudly. You followed suit. Watching him cum was so erotic and intimate. He leaned his forehead against yours as you both tried to catch your breath.

"I love you too,” you said breathlessly. He smiled and kissed you softly.

“Good,” He chuckled breathlessly.

[vifilms]

❝ LONG NIGHT, LONG RIDE ❞ ✶ ABBY ANDERSON !

★⠀warning y disclaimers — eighteen+, nsfw themes, country!abby, petname usage (sweetheart, darling), mechanical bullrider!abby, abby is a big ass flirt, kinda shy!reader, dub-con (alcohol involved). 

RAY RAMBLES ★ idk a random thought and i kinda ran with it. if you like, i have a part in mind with smut for my slutty friends. to be continued ...

you’ve never seen a woman move like she did. it wasn’t the first time you’d seen her there. nestled deep in the heart of texas, tattered-blue denim jeans hugging her thick thighs deliciously, white tank top accentuating her toned abdomen. worn-in brown boots on her feet, blonde hair as carefree as she appeared, hips in sync with the mechanic bull as her skillful hips ride as the operator strategically tries to rid her off of it. s’not an easy task by any means. 

she has the face you can’t quite seem to forget. you never really do. it’s become a ritual of yours. every friday night, you end up in this rundown bar, the only one in this nothing town. maybe it’s pathetic to pine over someone so clearly out of your league. but she’s easy on the eyes, the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen. surely, it wouldn’t hurt to just look. 

the girl of your dreams is riding the bull again, and looking goddamn hot doing it. possibly even hotter than this texas heat in the beginning of summer’s warmth. someone as muscular, toned, and broad as her shouldn’t be doing it so gracefully. it’s been a month of watching her. every friday night you nurse the ice bear, condensation dripping down to your fingertips, soaking your wrists as the liquid drips further. 

she’s making quite the show of it tonight. anderson, ever the performer. 

the only name you’ve heard being used, quite loose lips of the small town groupies. apparently, anderson, is the talk of the town and tonight the girls next to you at the bar are as chatty as ever. you only pick up remnants. bits and pieces of their drunken gossip. 

she broke up with her girlfriend. been two months actually according to nora. time to make a move. 

anderson wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole. 

whatever. i’m going to make sure she’s riding me tonight. you’ll see. 

you force yourself to disengage the eavesdropping and look away from the scene of her riding the bull. you’ve seen her do it so many times you know it’ll be over soon. it’s pathetic how you know that in the first place. 

you’ll leave soon, the commitment of work bright and early looks over your intoxicated brain. but then you hear loud boots stomping their way to you. looking over you notice it’s her and she makes conversation with the bartender as she sips on the chilled bottle of beer. 

“seen you here every friday for the best month, darling. do you like the show?” anderson chuckles as her body inches forward. her thumb picking at label on her beverage.

she’s noticed you before? 

“mhm, not sure. still trying to figure out if i do.” 

she nods smoothly, amping you nerves as she scoots the bar stool closer to yours, before taking a seat. meaty, strong, legs opened wide as they rest on each side, supporting the weight of her built frame.

“hm.” she hums, watching as you take another swing of your beer. 

she opens her mouth, more of her southern drawl seeping out but the girls from before manage to squeeze through the small space between you and the mysteriously hot woman who occupies your brain. 

“anderson, you look really good tonight.” the girl from before resurfaces, her sultry tone sharp enough to cut through the entire room, her hands making connection with her toned, freckled bicep descending down her forearm. you make yourself scarce to the bathroom, not enjoying the sudden storm in your stomach. 

it’s just there. 

jealousy storming it before you could even stop it. it’s clear anderson is more than sought after. she’s everyone’s dream, yourself included. you’ve had one short lived conversation. maybe she’s an asshole, a cheater, an ego the size of this massive state.

it’s what you told yourself as you washed your hands in the washroom. it’s the only thing you could tell yourself. the hint of rejection was even more unsettling so you decided to pay your tab and get the hell out of here. 

the vibrator tucked in your nightstand drawer had never done you wrong. why break a good thing? right? god, there’s never been a more pathetic moment on earth. you and your wand against the world of scorned loneliness. but then she’s in there with you. you’re frozen, unable to move as walks in. confidently, resting her broad back against the wooden door. the single use bathroom does not give you much room to breathe. 

anderson crosses her arms, muscles flexing as her arms visibly look bigger, as if they weren’t already delicious enough. she looks down as you’re slightly bent over the short sink, suddenly taking interest in your ass. 

well, it seems sudden to you. 

“you really didn’t have to run off.” she tuts, as you find her frame in the mirror. you swear she bucks her hips slightly but you must be imagining it. taking note of her golden locks flowing past her sculpted shoulders, brown stetson hat concealing her eyes from you, for the most part.

“i don’t know. you seem pretty preoccupied. didn’t wanna put a damper on your night.” once you were done rinsing your hands, you turned around, arms placed at your side. every single bone of your body incredibly nervous to speak with her. especially to be alone together.

“besides, it seems like you have a lot of fans mesmerized by you, anderson. everyone seems to talk about you.” 

“maybe? but i wanna talk to you, darling.” pushing off the door, anderson inches herself closer towards you.

“would this be something you want? my attention?” raising her head, tilting it to the side as she awaits your response. 

“you’re… forward.” you grasp at straws, trying to find the right words but nothing seems right. 

“jus’ know what i want when i see it.” anderson admits. you’re not sure what to think. the sinfully hot woman, everyone’s vying for her attention, and she’s decided to extend her interest in you. why? you’re not sure. “what?” 

“i-i just don’t know what to say to you, anderson.” she smirks, the sly smile of hers on display. “anderson, huh?” 

“isn’t that your name?” you perch yourself onto the sink. clearly, you’re not going anywhere anytime soon. “sort of. it’s what everyone here knows at least. but you should call me by my name. my real one.” 

you’re honored with a privilege, a simple one, just for you. it’s intoxicating how special she can make you feel. your heart beating out of your chest the more she takes. affecting all and any rational thought occupying your brain. it’s just her. 

“abigail, but you can call me abby. abs.” she takes a few steps forward inching closer to the space between your open thighs.

“whatever you want, really. as long as these pretty lips are talking to me. hm? how does that sound to you?” 

you visibly gulp as  she inches closer and closer…

“uh, um, abigail’s pretty.” she’s got you now. utterly fucking trapped. 

abby chuckles. if she wasn’t this hot, it would be downright condescending. “mmm, think i’m pretty, sweetheart?” she’s so sure of what she wants, eyes set on you and it’s s’much to handle. the trap’s been set and you’re falling into her southern charm far easier than you would have if it were anyone else.

you barely nod your head, shyly biting your lip. finally, giving her something to work with. abby’s thinking about devouring you whole, eating you right up, bringing you home with her, pulling you into her bedroom, tearing you apart in every way she knows how. 

the light shining in your eyes makes her think you’d let her. 

“y-yeah, i do.” abby makes home between your thighs, standing at her full height, stammering six feet tall. firmly grabbing your legs before wrapping them around her torso. “bet you do, sweetheart. i’m sure you think about all sorts of things, especially about me.” 

your breath hitches as abby removes her hat, shaking her blonde hair to the side, sunkissed skin even more exquisite up close. freckled cheeks, the adorable bump in her nose, her nipples hard and now poking through the tank top, chest nearly against yours as she wedges herself impossibly close to you. perfectly shaped lips moving closer to yours. 

“why don’t you tell me what you think about when i’m riding the bull? when my hips roll, my head tossed back, and my back arched. be a sweetheart and tell me, darling.” her hat is placed in free hand while the other softly grips your chin, thumb smoothing over the soft skin.

“be real good and tell me.” 

you pause for a moment, doing your best not to fumble over your words, just this once. 

“most of the time, i can’t stop looking at your hips. how in control you look, so confident and my mind just…drifts.” you linger, eyes meeting her baby blues and fuck. fuck. fuck. 

you’ve never been so doomed to fall. 

“darling, don’t leave me hanging. what does it drift to?” abby asks, dipping her lips to your neck, ghosting over the access point, until she lightly kisses at your collarbones. so light, it makes you question if this is just some cruel, fever dream you’ll wake up from.

“shit.” abby takes it as a sign to continue her lips dip into your chest, hardly divulging to where you need her, before she’s ascending back up to your neck. “you gonna be good for me?” she whispers in your ear, her breath calm and even. 

you nod and abby bites your ear playfully as you moan, pulling her in by your legs. “hm, if i keep whispering pretty little things in your ear? can you handle me, sweetheart?” her southern accent further cementing you in her honey grip. 

“maybe? i don’t know. fuck, yes?” abby giggles, her voice dropping an octave as she goes in for the kill. “oh sweetheart. i might just kill this pussy of yours with what i have to say next.” on instinct, your hands tangle themselves into the root of her blonde hair, tugging her closer to you. wanting to suffocate her in your scent, but she’s already halfway there. 

“abigail, just say it. please?” she nods, loving how you’re already using your manners. fuck, so good for her already, not even having to ask twice. abby feels the heartbeat of her clit stirring in her pants as it chases the sound of your voice. she’s so feral, already. yeah, you may feel like a goner but if only you knew she is by far so much worse. 

“i noticed you the first night. those pretty fucking eyes staring at me. wouldn’t fucking leave me for anything, even when the bartender was trying to get your attention. those bambi eyes on me, bright eyed and practically begging for me….” abby’s purposely whines in your ear, causing you to grind into her. she can’t stop the chuckle leaving her lips. 

“you’re being mean. just tell me.” abby pauses as she grins like the cheshire cat. you tug her hair back tightly, the moan she emits is loud. her eyes nearly roll back into her head, but she’s able to stop it before it goes too far. before you push her to the subspace she can so easily get to when push comes to shove. for now, she’ll bask in the dominance. 

all of it so new, so fresh. “oh, i’m being mean?” abby threatens cockily. “i have  been awfully mean, huh? letting those pretty girls flirt with me right in front of you.” she kisses lightly underneath your ear before continuing.

“been thinking about you the last couple of weeks when i’m riding.” abby teases.

“you do?” your jaw slacks, your grip on abby’s head releases. “sure have, darling. m’thinking about how you want to ride me instead. pretty thighs rubbing together when you’d look my way.” abby’s hand drops to your thigh, rubbing your inner thighs with her thumb. basking in how you open them even wider, unprompted. just a small mention and you’re right back to her riding the bull. whimpered out for her, needing her to do anything, something. 

“why don’t we get out of here and you can come home with me?” she pleads, pressing a kiss to your temple. sweet and sultry with half-lidded eyes looking at you. your eyes looking at the hat in her hands. 

you nod, “yeah, i’d like that.” shyly, scratching the nape of your neck. 

“are you going to put your hat back on?” 

“mhm, not sure.” abby bites the inside of her cheek, anxious as the next thought plagues her mind. you won’t know what a big deal it is, but everyone in the bar will know. she will know, but you won’t and somehow it makes it easier when the request flies off her lips. 

“you could wear it? if you want, sweetheart.” abby asks sweetly. you’re quiet for a moment, pondering. “who knows. might be too big or too small.” you shrug your shoulders as if you’re not interested. 

“well, why don’t we try then, sweetheart? won’t know until you do.” she maneuvers the white cowboy hat, placing it carefully in your head. 

you smile happily at her. “look! a perfect fit.” 

abby knows there’s not a damn soul who looks better than you. “yeah, sure is perfect.”

DAILY CLICK + DONT BUY TLOU + DONATE

[szoboobszlai]

DOES HE KNOW?

pairing: ex-situationship!jude bellingham x female reader

warnings: none i guess

author notes: hi! this is the first time i wrote something like this and also the first time i have ever written something entirely in english – since it's not my first language, you may find some grammar mistakes. anyways, hope you enjoy it! 🤍✨

| edit: this is the first part of my one direction lyric-based writing series! you can find the full writing list here.

it was passing through jude’s head all night.

you, in that tight little skirt, were the only thing he could pay attention to – the other girls around him?

he didn’t even notice.

the only thing he noticed was the way you were dancing in that nightclub partnerless. that man you were going out with just didn’t show up? did you broke up this “thing” you had with him?

jude didn’t know.

in fact, you and jude were in a situationship for a few months last summer, in where he was on vacation from real madrid. nothing that serious for any of you – he was a world class player and you knew that you shouldn’t involve with this kind of man; you weren't a football groupie, after all.

he felt different, but never told you.

after he went back to madrid to restart the intense training routine, he knew that you started going out with another man; people told jude that you were with this guy named josh, and he actually saw both of you in a party a few weeks before.

jude knew the man knows a few things about you: your secret tattoo, your favorite band, the songs that you sing when you’re all alone.

but you’re not with josh tonight.

does he know that you try to hide your smile when jude bellingham catch your eye and see you looking at him?

does he know you can move like that just for jude to see it?

jude bet he didn’t.

— uh... hey. — he said when he got closer to you on the dance floor.

— hi, jude. — you answered, trying to not seem so nervous; it was jude bellingham, after all.

you knew he was that magnetic, with his dark eyes that could see through your soul and that strong and elegant woody scent you already knew.

you face each other for a while; his gaze gave you goosebumps, and you had exactly the same effect on him.

— it’s been a while, right? — he says shyly, almost afraid of your answer. — so... have you been alone tonight?

— yes, it’s been a while. i only see you in your games through the TV. — you confess. — and yes, i’m on my own tonight.

your red-lined smile made jude’s heart skip a beat; so you have been cheering on him last season, even with him playing on a team in another country?

actually, it was pretty nice for him to hear it.

— doesn't josh get jealous when he sees you watching to another men on TV? — jude asks. doesn't he get jealous when he sees you watching jude on TV? doesn't he get jealous seeing you cheering for a man that still wanted you so bad?

— i didn't care if he jealous or not, actually. — you answer, for jude’s surprise. — josh knew a lot about me, but nothing about me.

the silence between you overcame the loud music that echoed through the walls of the nightclub.

— how could him know you head to toe and yet don't know nothing about you?

— well... he’s not you, jude.

he knew that. jude bellingham knows you inside and out; he memorized every single detail of your face, the songs that you sing when you're all alone. everything about you.

the way you talked got him mesmerized.

the way he looked at you, with his lips slightly open, while the song was playing loudly on the background, got you thinking about how much you missed being in his arms.

as if jude was reading your mind, he closes the space between both of you, sealing your lips with a peck that turned into a loving kiss.

the way his hands fit perfectly in your waist, tracing every inch of your body, was making you insane.

the way he kissed your neck passionately, even if you were in the crowd, showed that he barely cared about being the worldwide famous footballer.

tonight, he was just yours.

does he know that you wanted him so bad?

[sevynavenue]

ᰔᩚಎ — 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋 𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐋

— ໒person on da block꒱‎ ‎‎‎‎ichigo kurosaki ೀ you weren't a big fan of rock, but maybe being dragged to a rock concert and after party isn't too bad !

— ໒including package꒱‎ ೀ rockstar! ichigo, ichigo is kind of a mean dom, spanking, degrading (slut, whore, etc...), pet names (baby, pretty, etc...), ichigo is kind of obsessed idk, unprotected sex (wrap for you tap kids), fat dick ichigo, daddy kink, fingering, creampie, implied use of alcohol, hair pulling, spit kink !

You weren’t a big fan of rock music, but your best friend loved it; her favorite band was coming to town, and she was a certified groupie. You didn’t want to leave her there alone, because what kind of best friend would she be to avoid going to the most important moments of her life?

Tee was so excited, she could not even focus on doing her makeup. All she could do was stare at the poster hanging high on her dorm wall as you lay on your bed scrolling through your phone, looking at other people's stories. “What’s so good about these guys?” You asked, and Tee almost broke her neck looking back at you.

“THEE ICHIGO KUROSAKI is coming to our town; I have to be there!” She practically screamed at you, shoving her poster in your face. You looked at the poster with the four guys on it and asked, “Is this Ichigo?” 

“Nah, that’s Renji; this is Ichigo” Tee guided your hand to where Ichigo was on the poster. “He is attractive, but what’s the hype?” “You’ll see.” Your best friend smiled as she finished her makeup and turned to look in the full-body mirror. 

“Alright, let’s go. Do you have your ID because they are strict at concerts?” You checked your bag to look for your ID in your purse and nodded to confirm. You and Tee finally took an Uber down to the already-crowded arena. You saw so many girls; some were half-naked, and some looked like they hadn’t slept in days. 

Maybe this was a bigger deal than you thought, but then again, you weren’t too pressed about this concert, but you did have a good time, so why not? You saw Tee fight tooth and nail to get front-row tickets; she saved for months and got you and her a ticket, and not only that, she won backstage tickets, so you had to go.

The concert was deafening, and you felt your body would hurt terribly when you woke up in the morning. Tee even showed her tits; all you could do was laugh and shake your head. But who said they couldn’t have fun either? Even though you didn’t know any of the songs, you still danced and had fun.

Your best friend was dragging you everywhere after the concert was over; she wanted to get backstage so she could bat her eyelashes and you both would be able to go to another artist's after-party. Tee was perfect at getting you both into the after-parties. You weren’t as wild as Tee, but you did love a good hook-up here and there. 

You waited for Tee outside the backstage door; all you could see was the long line of girls bum-rushing to meet the boys. You were so glad that you didn’t want to meet anybody; you were just back there for the food and free drinks they were serving. You saw Tee come running back to you, smirking with a piece of paper in hand. 

“So I’m guessing you were successful?” You smirked.

“Yeah, and I got a little gift too.” Tee pulled her tube top down to see a signature on her right breast, signed by Renji. “Oh, bitch.” You both laughed. “Look, you gotta do what you gotta do.” Tee pulled her top up and shoved the piece of paper in her top.

“I want to go back to our dorm and change; I feel too sweaty,” Tee said while you both got in the Uber. Something about going back to your messy dorm wasn’t something you would be looking forward to. By the time you and Tee changed, it was already past midnight, and you were waiting for another Uber. 

You could hear the music blasting from inside the Airbnb, you saw a lot of people on the lawn, and you could see Tee recording from inside the Uber. You were low-key tired, but you were going to keep pushing. When you got inside, the music was even louder, and your ears were ringing nonstop. 

“MY TYPE OF PARTY!” Tee screamed next to you. Little did you know, when you looked to your side, Tee was gone, and you shook your head. She probably went to go find her bae for the night. But you were sure that she could take care of herself; maybe you’d be able to find her later if she wanted to be found. 

You sat down on the staircase, watching and observing everyone else at the party. You finally found Tee, but she was sitting and flirting with Renji, so you knew you would probably be going back to the dorm by yourself.

“Why sitting over here by yourself” 

You looked up to see a tall, shirtless figure in front of you. When he bent down to get a closer look at you, you noticed that bright ginger hair from anywhere. Ichigo Kurosaki.

“Oh, um, I’m here for moral support; my best friend is here,” you replied. Ichigo smirked, “Yeah, you’re the girl who didn’t look so interested in our concert.”

You opened your mouth, but quickly closed it; you didn’t have a snarky remark to make. Ichigo laughed, “But I guess you're here now. So, I guess you’re stuck with me for the rest of the night since Renji left me too.” Ichigo sat down on the step next to you. 

“So, tell me about yourself; what’s your name, plain girl?”

“Plain? I’m past being plain; maybe your band is plain.” You replied quickly, and Ichigo laughed. “But seriously, what’s your name?” Ichigo asked with a smirk. You rolled your eyes. “Y/N,” you replied.

“Y/N? Hm, got a nice ring to it.” You laughed. “Yeah, it has a nice ring to it, right?” Ichigo smiled. “Well, Y/N, it's nice to meet you. I'm Ichigo; can I get you another drink?” You smiled and nodded, “Sure.” Ichigo winked and walked away to get your drink. You watched him as he went, a smile still on your face.

You and Ichigo were practically hip and hip all night; you don’t know if it was the alcohol talking or if Ichigo got more and more attractive as the night progressed. You and Ichigo were pinned up in the corner, lips locked together. Ichigo tongue was so smooth, and his hands were rough, but it felt so right grabbing the fat of your ass. 

You could taste the alcohol and cigarettes in his mouth. It looked like you both were practically having sex in the corner of the party. “Let me take you upstairs and show you plain,” Ichigo smirked as he grabbed your hands to take you up the steps. You both stumbled up the stairs, laughing as you both tried to stay upright. You both finally made it to a room, got inside, and locked the door.

Ichigo pushed you on the bed as you spread your legs, and he got in between, smashing his lips back on yours. His lips were soft and warm as he explored your mouth. His hands roamed your body, exploring your curves and making you feel wanted. You felt your heart beating faster as you felt yourself getting lost in the moment.

Ichigo pushed your skirt up even more to get a glimpse at your red-laced underwear as he smirked back up at you. “You must want to get fucked tonight,” Ichigo smirked, licking your neck. You bit your lip and looked away, embarrassed. Ichigo leaned in and whispered in your ear, “Well, it looks like you're going to have to be a good girl for me, yeah?”

Ichigo pushed your panties to the side to feel your wet slit. “Fuck, you’re such a slut, getting wet from a little kissing, hm?”. Ichigo's fingers moved up and down, teasing your clit. You gasped and moaned; your body shuddered at Ichigo’s breath on your neck. “Please, wan your fingers,” you begged, bucking your hips into Ichigo’s hand.

Ichigo’s grin widened as he inserted a finger into your wet pussy. He slowly slid his finger in and out of your hole, his thumb gently rubbing your clit. Your moans grew louder as you felt your hips moving in tandem. 

“Hnngh Ichi! I-I need more.” You whimpered, “Oh? What a greedy little whore you are, when you could barely take one finger.” Ichigo's voice was rough as he spoke, adding another finger stretching you further. You whined out in pleasure, your hand shooting to Ichigo’s wrist in an instant, his fingers never stopping as he pleasured you.

“Move your hand, girl; you got greedy, so swallow your pride and take it.” He growled as he moved his fingers faster. You gasped in pleasure, your body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over you. “Mm, yeah, that's a good girl,” Ichigo cooed as he curled his fingers, making you gasp and buck your hips. 

“I-Ichiii, ah! gonna cum-” You moaned, and your eyes rolled back as Ichigo continued to tease and pleasure you. You felt your body tense as your orgasm was creeping up on you; it felt like the breath in your lungs was getting stuck. All Ichigo had to do was pinch your clit just a little as you let out a loud cry as your body shook, and you came hard, pleasure radiating through every inch of your body. “That’s it, such a good little slut.” Ichigo took his fingers out to get a taste of your essence. 

“Turn around and get on your stomach.” You obeyed, feeling your heart pounding as Ichigo moved behind you. You can hear the belt cackle and clack as Ichigo pushes his jeans and boxers down, dragging you to the end of the bed. “I’ll be a gentleman and take it slow since y’re so pretty and delicate.” Ichigo grabbed your hips and thrust inside you, pushing in slowly and calculatingly, watching you to see how you would react. 

“Ngh! S-so full, Ichi!” You panted as Ichigo pushed inch by inch, making your cunt flutter and squeeze. Ichigo laughed, his hips bucking against yours as he fucked you hard and steady. “Fuck y’re so tight, f’me baby,” Ichigo sank his fingers into your waist as he started to pick up the pace.

“S’good Ichigo!” You moaned into the sheets, muffling your moans, something Ichigo didn’t like because you felt your head getting yanked up by your hair, your scalp burning a bit as you gasped. 

“Don’t hide your moans from me,” Ichigo hissed, spanking your ass as you cried out from the slight burn on your scalp and ass. “Daddy, fuckkk hah!” You screamed in pleasure as Ichigo pounded into you, your hips buckling up to meet his thrusts. You felt like you were going to explode as Ichigo's movements became faster and more intense. 

“Sh-shit, y’re such a slut fuckin’ back into me like that,” Ichigo groaned, his hand yanking your body up so that your back was touching his chest, his tip hitting your sweet spot easier. “Open yer’ mouth and stick that slutty tongue out for me,” Ichigo whispered in your ear.

You obeyed, your tongue protruding out of your mouth as Ichigo spat in your mouth, “Now swallow it.” You swallowed his saliva with a gasp, and he chuckled. “Fuck, yer such a whore for me,” he said, before pushing you back down on the bed and slapping your ass as his pace quickened. 

“Gonna cummmm” Your voice cracked as you gripped the sheets tighter in your hand, as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, your hips stuttering to meet Ichigo’s rough thrust. “Fuck me too, baby, me too,” Ichigo moaned, his thrust getting sloppy. Ichigo bent over to see your glistening eyes as he bit his lip, he could bust just looking at your pretty face scrunched up just for him. 

“Yesyesyesyes!” You cried out. Ichigo leaned in and gave you a passionate kiss, his hips stuttering and slamming into you and his balls slapping into you uncontrollably. You moaned with pleasure, your body trembling as pleasure overwhelmed you. Ichigo felt you tighten around him, and you came with a loud cry of pleasure. “Fuck, so, so pretty baby,” Ichigo groaned.

“Shit, g’na give the slut just what she wants,” Ichigo panted as he kept thrusting, his orgasm quickly approaching. You whine from overstimulation; you feel Ichigo's body tense as he groans loudly as he comes, his body trembling with pleasure as he releases inside of you. His hips were still moving against you for a few moments to make sure his cum got inside, before pulling out and watching the cum ooze out. 

Ichigo collapsed next to you, exhausted. You lay there for a few moments, trying to catch your breath. “You owe me $50 for a plan B.” You side-eyed Ichigo as he looked back at you and chuckled. “I gotchu ma.” Ichigo slapped your ass once again before sitting up to grab his wallet.

©2024 sevynavenue — please DO NOT copy, change, or repost my works on any other platform. All rights reserved to @/sevynavenue

[fear-is-truth]

i can imagine singer reader. her origin story is dating rodrick in hs, and for a few of their gigs, they let her sing on stage which led to them gaining much more traction (obvi a girl with a gorg voice!!!).

loded diper never made it past highschool, and honestly they never intended it to. but, now !reader has a band. and i can just see it all so clearly, and i fear i am not making this ask clear at all but i can't think of how to word it.

INTRODUCING… SINGER!READER

faded loded diper shirt, sleeves torn off. flannel shirts (stolen from her boyfriend), chunky rings, silver. nails painted blacked or chipped, depending on the day. torn fishnets, combat boots and converse. black eyeliner, done by rodrick (she insists he does a better job than her). monster energy in hand. hole, bikini kill, joan jett—riot grrrl anthems. keychains hanging from her bag.

it all started in his parents’ basement. sticky floors, tangled cords, and amps turned up way too loud. rodrick let her sing one night as a joke, but the second her voice hit the mic, everyone stopped laughing. even him.

they started letting her on stage for a few gigs. she was known as “the girl” in the band. the reason loded diper started pulling bigger crowds. the guys teased her about it, but they all knew the truth—people weren’t coming for the music. they came for her.

they stayed together, even after loded diper fell apart. high school ended, rodrick got into college and even managed to get a part-time job—something she never thought he’d actually do. the bandmates drifted off.

but she didn’t stop. couldn’t stop.

she still has the loded diper shirt he gave her, the sharpie had faded, but she never got rid of it. keeps it folded in a drawer with her other relics from high school—the setlists scribbled on notebook paper, a few grainy photos, the drumstick he broke during one of their best shows.

now, she has a band of her own. inspired by hole, bikini kill, avril lavigne and joan jett. monster energy cans scattered across their shared apartment. a lipstick-stained coffee mug on the amp. her guitar case is covered in stickers, but her favourite says, “don’t be a groupie, be a rockstar”

she’s the one chasing her dream now, playing shows in sweaty little venues while he works and drums in his free time. her boyfriend shows up to every gig, leaning against the back wall with his arms crossed, pretending he isn’t as proud as he is. sometimes, rodrick still misses being on stage with her. watching her take over the crowd while he kept the beat behind her. but he knows this is her moment, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

 fear-is-truth — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.