#And then I come back to work the next day and see it's ruined because someone dropped a bunch of stuff where I was working

[berryzxx]

To Have And To Hold...Till Death Do Us Part

Azriel x reader

Summary: Azriel has spent decades centuries on trying to find his mate. A mate is supposed to be that one constant person in you're life. But as we all know Azriel was damned to an unlucky fate

Note: FIRST TIME WRITING ANGST be nice<3. also yes i will be reverting to fluff again. its my little cosy corner :) Also ty so so so much to @sarawritestories, literally an angel and helped me with this idea GO READ HER FICS BITCHES. @thelov3lybookworm, @fell-in-luvs @sweetorangeblossom @throneofsmut

@riddlesb1tch @milswrites TYSM for the help ily all. I'm never writing angst again <3

The dry, bland taste of the oats coated Azriel's tongue and he fought to swallow it down. A fight similar to his will to get out of bed every morning. Also similar to the fight of carrying on each day.

Mindlessly stirring his food which had now gotten cold he thought about what he would do for Star fall next week. Maybe he would get drunk so he wouldn't remember the night. Or maybe he would go up to the balcony to get the "best view" but in fact sulk in a corner because he didn't have a special someone to share the night with.

Pulling himself back to reality and berating himself for being ungrateful and forgetting about how much his family had done for him, Azriel watched one of his shadows depart and slowly move across the table until it had reached the open French doors. He tried calling it back but to no avail. Taking a deep breath Azriel continued eating, his shadows were always up to something. Maybe it was bringing back important information. Like maybe who his mate was.

His heart became heavy again at the thought. Still no mate. Azriel had seen so many things, lived through so much and sometimes he thought he deserved a mate. Sometimes when he wasn't so absorbed in self hate he thought to himself maybe he did deserve a mate like Rhys had Feyre or Cassian had Nesta. The thought left him as soon as it had appeared. He shook his head, he didn't deserve a mate. He would ruin her. He wasn't good enough. No where near good enough.

Scoffing at himself for even going down the path of thinking he out of all people could have a mate, he carried on eating his oats, finishing them in record time to get to training with the Valkyries and the priestesses.

***

"Isn't that your shadow?" Nesta asked pointing toward a lone shadow which was making it's way back in to the house, moving across the training ring floor and the edges of the walls before it disappeared completely. She was laying down on the mat, sweat dripping down her face. It had been an intense training session, Nesta having started to channel her anger into physical exercise resulted in Azriel having to hold the punching pads tighter than usual. He was happy for her. Glad she was better now and getting used to her fae body.

"It is" Azriel replied, his confusion increasing slightly. They were acting extremely strange. And the one that had left this morning still hadn't come back. Not to mention the shadows still with him were dancing around as if they were waiting for something. He shrugged it off. It was probably a new bakery or some drama from Velaris they had picked up on. Nosy pricks.

Nesta's silver eyes held concern, "Are you okay?" She bit her lip there was something like recognition in her eyes, as if she once held the same vacant stare that he did. "Are they usually like this?" Nesta questioned again, sitting up and trying to read his expression. He shook his head, flipping his water flask upside down to realise it was empty "They'll come back eventually"

She stood up and brushed her clothes down "You could get it checked. I heard Madja's working late today"

Azriel tried not to get angry. It wasn't as if she would know how it was basically impossible for any healer to ever help him.

"We'll see" He replied instead, already brushing the idea away. All he'd get was an afternoon wasted and a whole lot of poking at his back and wings. It wasn't that big of a deal. Well...that's what he hoped.

***

Flipping the dagger in his hand he began to sharpen the other side, making sure it was as sharp as possible so it would make a clean cut. He didn't need more blood on his hands. Well more than usual anyway. Looking to his right he saw Cassian stretching out his wings and yawning "I'm off to bed. Don't stay up past your bedtime" He grinned. Azriel shook his head a smile on his face even though the joke wasn't funny.

"I won't" Azriel lied. Cassian looked at him for longer than usual as if trying to figure something out. Of course he didn't. Azriel's secrets were too well hidden.

"I'm here if you ever need to talk" Cassian said resting a hand on his shoulder. Azriel gave him a rare smile and patted his hand "I know brother"

Leaving him to sit peacefully on the roof Azriel looked up at the sky. Automatically his eyes searched for the one star constellation he loved. Lyra it's name was. His mother had pointed it out to him when he was young. Said it was one of the constellations that would never leave him. Sometimes it felt like this constellation was the only stable thing in his life. Something that would never leave him and so far it was living up to it's reputation.

***

All fucking night his shadows had been restless, moving about and not letting him get one minute of sleep. Yes he ran on 4 hours of sleep perfectly fine but his shadows didn't even let him close his eyes for one minute without being irritating. Not to mention his shadows from previously hadn't come back. What the fuck was their problem?

Finally giving up he went down to the kitchen, drank a glass of water and stomped upstairs on to the balcony. His shadows were still making incessant noises and moving around too much for this early in the morning. Azriel walked over to the edge of the roof, standing on the edge and freefell down down down.

The air hit him at the perfect angle and gods did he wish he could keep falling. If he hadn't opened his wings at the right time he would have died but who really cared? It was just him after all.

He flew over Velaris, the sun barely visible resulting in a still and quieter city at this time. Not to mention it was Saturday, most of the fae probably nursing their hangovers right now. He veered left toward the Sidra, going past Feyre's bright and cosy artists corner, following his shadow at a leisurely pace as it stopped in front of what seemed to be a row of houses. They were bright and colourful, pale pinks and bright blue's, pleasing to look at. Settling on the roof of a house opposite them he watched the sun rise, his shadows finally calm. It felt like his heart was calm too.

A few minutes of sitting led to one of the rooftop doors opening and......and Azriel couldn't describe what and who stepped out.

She was a goddess.

She was the fulfilment of his dreams.

She was the most ethereal fae he had seen.

She was...gods words couldn't describe her never ending beauty. Moving toward her flowers towards the right of the roof she began to water them, her soft brown hair falling forward and covering her face slightly. His heart hurt. He didn't know why.

He could stare at her for an eternity. Her green eyes sparkled in the sunlight, her pink lips looked like they could say the sweetest words. Like they could soothe any pain he had from one whisper of her sweet voice. He swallowed.

He wanted to talk to her. Enjoy her company. Make her smile. Make her laugh. Watch as her eyes brightened because of him.

He could change. For her he could, he thought to himself as she stood up from watering the roses and looked at the sun rise too.

Her cheeks held a slight blush, hair dishevelled as though she had just gotten out of bed. Azriel was cataloguing each and every thing about her, storing it into his memory to cherish.

Clenching his fists and readying himself, memorising what he would say to this oh so gorgeous female he extended his wings.

Softly landing behind her, he felt like his tongue was twisted. Her hair fell in waves down her back, her arms wrapped around herself.

Taking a deep breath he cleared his throat. She whipped round and it felt like time stopped.

Her hand rested on her chest and her eyes were wide with surprise. Beautiful. That was all that went through his mind as he drank her in, looking at each and every perfect feature.

"Who are you?" His heart felt like it would burst from happiness. Her voice was music to his ears. She had straightened up slightly, her shocked expression gone as she patiently waited for Azriel to speak. He didn't want to. What if he messed it up?

"Azriel. Sorry I....I didn't mean to invade your privacy I-" He cleared his throat cursing under his breath for his stupid twisted tongue. Her lips turned up in a small smile as if she was encouraging him, waiting for him to finish. Like she actually cared for what he had to say.

"I just saw you watching the sunset- not that I was watching you...I meant I just saw you here-" A small laugh escaped her as she watched him struggle. He knew one thing. It was that his heart was no longer his. It was hers. His soul belonged to her. His broken and bloody soul was hers however much it had gone through.

Falling in love was impossible he used to think but looking at her now, he thought it possible.

He was so busy in trying to memorise her face he didn't realise his shadows from earlier swirling around her wrists and waist as if they had found their home.

"It's alright. Lets watch the sunset together, the view's gorgeous from here" Her soft voice beckoned him closer and as she turned back around her arm knocked one of the vases. She turned around trying to grab it and in that split second, she fell.

Over the roof and down to where Azriel couldn't see her.

His heart raced as he ran to the edge and jumped down onto the concrete floor, using his wings to slow his descent.

He had heard the sickening thud when she had fallen but he refused to believe it.

He watched as her lifeless body lay there.

Still.

The life in her completely gone. Silence rang in his ears, his throat closed up, he wanted to rip out his heart. Why?

Why?

Why?

Why was all he could think about it as he looked at her broken form. Blood pooled from her head, a puddle of deep red gathering around her hair. His shadows swarming around her, frantically trying to do something.

Maybe if he weren't so useless. Maybe if he had any dignity or shame he wouldn't have stared on and could have helped her. It felt like his voice was lost.

He looked at her dead eyes and when he did it snapped. The golden thread sparkling between the two of them, connecting them, before dying out again. The moment of completeness vanished in a split second.

Mate.

She was his mate.

He let out a tortured scream, his own voice ringing in his ears. His legs weakened as he dropped to the ground next to her, his energy depleted.

Tears slipped down his face and for the first time he didn't wipe them away. Didn't berate himself for crying because this....this was a tragedy everyone should have cried over. But instead it was only him watching her once smiling face lay face down on the concrete.

Why was it him? He hadn't even gotten to see her smile properly because of him. Hadn't been able to hear her speak completely. Hadn't heard the sweet words she was sure to voice if he ever got the chance to get to know her.

His eyes wouldn't leave her body as he choked out sobs, eyes blurry and wanting to look away from her limp body at the same time. His....His mate.

The word left him feeling empty. All he wanted was right in front of him except she was gone. She was dead and it was because of him.

His hands shook, his control slipping away as time passed, slowly reaching for her. He gently touched her hair ever so softly as if maybe she were sleeping and she would wake up. Slowly moving it to the side, he could finally see her beautiful beautiful face. A face which had been removed of all colour and life.

A strangled sound escaped him as he looked on unable to tear his eyes away. His heart fractured into so many pieces he didn't know what he'd do anymore. How could he live without her? Life wasn't worth living without her.

His mate.

Tears made his vision blurry as he tried to memorise her perfect features. She was a poem he would never be able to memorise. She was the dream he was always so far from reaching. She was his except she wasn't. Not anymore. Because she was gone.

He wished he could take her place. Wished he had died after seeing his mate. He would have died happy. Finally would know what true happiness was before dying.

Any alternate way of living his heart didn't know how to. Without her in his life he couldn't search for any reason for continuing on.

Gods he didn't even know her name. At the thought of this his lips pressed together trying to stop the heart wrenching scream he wanted to release. He didn't even know her damn name.

His mate.

His mate who was lying dead in front of him. Looking down at his hands he saw they were shaking, so was his body. He didn't deserve to live. This perfect female in front of him wasn't able to live her life so why should he, a broken and unlovable torturer?

The glint of his dagger beckoned to him. It would be oh so easy to end things now. Stab himself through the heart and lay down, lifeless just like his mate. At least they would die together. Taking out his dagger he looked at. Really looked at it.

The fates had known.

This was why he had sharpened his dagger. For this exact reason.

If his mate didn't deserve to live neither did he. He lifted the dagger, tears streaming down his face, his heart broken in too many places to fix, no one left for him in this world. Looking at his mates face for the last time he pushed the dagger straight into his heart.

Fitting ending he supposed. After all the killing he had done, he had ended his own life. Blood seeped from the stab wound but he didn't care. He tried to touch her face one last time, extending his hand, but he couldn't. Because he had collapsed onto the cold floor next to her, unable to touch her for the first and last time.

He was damned. His fate was unlucky.

He was a bastard who didn't deserve anything.

Without even realising his shadows had left him too.

"LYRA" A heart wrenching scream echoed in his ears as the blood emptied out his body. That was his mate's name.

Lyra

If he were still alive he would have smiled and cried at the irony of it all but he wasn't. His eyes now stared straight up as his heart no longer pumped blood.

A fae walking past would see it as a tragedy but it was more than that. It was a man who would never get a happily ever after no matter how much he wished for it. It would be a story passed down to generations. A story with no happy ending.

***

If only Azriel had known that he was in fact loved. That he did have people that held him close to their heart

If only he had known.

Rhys who was waiting in his meeting room for their debrief.

Cassian who had set up a game of chess for him and Azriel to play.

Nesta who thought up new techniques for fighting that she would show him the next morning.

Feyre who was painting his portrait in her art studio.

Nyx who was waiting for his favourite uncle to come home so they could fly together.

Little did they know Azriel would never come home again.

....first and last time writing angst :) if u can even call it that

->Masterlist <-

tagging: @hijabi-desi-bookworm @lilah-asteria @fxckmiup @minnieoo

@kennedy-brooke @daycourtofficial

[ssparksflyy]

don't save some other girl ᯓᡣ𐭩

pairing jason grace x daughter of minerva!reader summary i lost the request but this one's for you @hope92100 !! an bat shit crazy jason save me... save me bat shit crazy jason

OF course the one 'peaceful' day you get with jason gets ruined by monsters.

the rest of your crew was spending the day exploring the city, while you and jason agreed to stay behind and guard the ship (could you really call it a ship if it also flew?), hoping to get some peace while you were able to spend some time alone for the first time in weeks.

you were lying in bed with jason and watching a movie when you heard a loud crash come from the main deck. you were both quick to scramble up and dash out of his room, pulling out your swords as you reached the main deck.

you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to run away from the sight of the moster. a godzilla size glowing black squid with ten rapid arms and one big eyeball frantically looking in different directions was right in front of you.

"ill take it's left, you take right! try cutting at it's arms!!" jason yelled as he yelled to the left side of the monster.

you nodded your head frantically and ran to the other side of the deck, ducking and slicing anytime an arm came swinging at you. you weren't able to find a part of the ship where you could stop to think for just a second, maybe get a good view on as to where this monster's blind spot was. once you were able to attack that, this thing would turn to dust and leave you and jason be. looking around frantically, you realized that getting to higher ground was the solution.

continuing to duck and dodge at any squid arms that came swinging in your direction, you climbed the ladder that led to the higher end of the deck, running towards the railing.

"jason!" you called out.

"yea?!" you heard him yell from the other side of the deck.

"i need you to distract this thing, try to get it to focus on you!"

"why? what're you-"

"just do it please!!!"

he didnt reply, but you knew as the monster's arms stared swinging more in his direction, he had done what you asked him to. you squeezed your eyes shut and silently prayed to all the gods your plan would work before beginning to climb on top of the railing.

you held your arms out, trying to balance yourself and not fall with each step you took. you needed to get a hit as close as you could to the monster's back. from there, you could determine where this thing's weak spot was.

you were so focused on your feet and trying to stay on the railing, the only thing that snapped you out of your trance was the impact of the squid's tentacle that sent you flying off that very railing.

as you fell, it felt as if time stopped. as if these were your final moments to 'enjoy' life before falling to your death. the impact wouldn't be what would take you, but the quick currents of the water would be what swept you away, incapable of even processing what was happening. and then you'd die. nothing more, this was it.

you closed your eyes as you accepted your fate, as if you were allowing time to resume it's regular speed.

fortunately for you, somebody else hadn't accepted it.

jason must've swept in at lightning speed because one moment you were falling to your death, and then next you were back on the deck, sitting in a corner while jason rushed back to deal with the monster.

you watched in shock as jason flew around the monster at incredible speed, dodging and attacking every arm that came his way. he began sending down bolts of lighting as he flew, electrocuting the monster when it got too close. you'd never seen him like this, so determined to finish off a monster, such power radiating off of him. you had to admit it was actually quit frightening. you knew jason was powerful, and you hated when people ignored his talents, but seeing him in action like this and experiencing his power at such a high level almost made you scared of him. scared that maybe even you were underestimating his powers. scared if thing things he could possibly do. when you were able to finally see a glimpse of his face, the murderous look he had didn't exactly give you the comfort you were looking for.

in the matter of a minute, jason had the monster covered in the marks of his sword, moving slower than ever. with one final stab to the back, the monster had finally dispersed into dust and into the pits of tartarus.

he finally landed on his feet, taking only a second to catch his breathe before running over to you. he slid onto his knees as he reached you, his hand immediately reaching for the side of your face.

"are you okay? are you alright? gods (name) you scared the living shit out of me, i thought i lost you-"

"im okay, im okay jason. thank you. thank you so much, i..." the words seemed to have caught in your throat. tears began to form in your eyes as the realization that you almost died hit you.

jason realized this as well and pulled you in for one of the tightest hugs you were ever given. it was as if he too needed to realize that you were alright.

as much as you appreciated how much he cared, you couldnt shake off his manic state from just a minute ago. truth be told, you werent sure if you could ever handle to see him like that again. you knew you wouldn't be able to stay quiet for very long, so why try?

"jason?" you said, pulling away from him.

"yea?" he asked, you could hear desperation in his voice.

"i love you, and i know how powerful you are, and i would never want to hold you back but," you paused, "please never ever do that again."

a look of worry spread across his face, "no, no, of course not. im so sorry (name), i didnt know-"

"it's fine. at least i know you wont be saving some other girl anytime soon."

he smiled and pressed a soft kiss on your lips, "wouldnt dream of it"

[your-enby-antihero]

Aelwyn Abernant Might Go Blue Dragon(born) Hunting

———————————————————————— Summary: What if The Rat Grinders got revivified and Oisin had a crush on Adaine. Well more so what if Aelwyn knew all the shit he put Adaine through and she wanted to send a message.

Also available on Ao3

————————————————————————

Aelwyn Abernant, a woman reformed, hadn’t thought of murder in like two weeks. Which honestly was a super big deal for her, had she done a shit ton of extorting and taken like six people’s bones to try and find the one pirate in Leviathan that dies if you pull out their bones, well maybe. But who can blame her? It's how she was raised. But now she was starting to slip back into old habits. 

The whole world was saved once again by her beautiful baby sister and the rest of The Bad Kids. Aguefort had come back and fixed all the weird shit that had happened, though the school was closed for the rest of the year so everyone just had to take the Last Stand to try to pass the year. But one of the many unfortunate things that happened, in Aelwyn’s opinion, was that those stupid Rat Grinders were revived. Adaine had said something about second chances and manipulation and corrupt adults and blah blah blah whatever. Something about them failing the year and doing remedial classes monitored by the Bad Kids to make it up or you know. Aelwyn knew all about villain reformation, being a reformed villain herself, but something about the Rat Grinders set her teeth on edge. Especially that waifish nerdy-looking Dragonborn, he was giving Adaine a look that Aelwyn found disturbing. Aelwyn was well aware of Adaine’s fleeting crush on the boy, though, after the whole Porter-Ankarna debacle, she was so very sure that the crush had faded. Even when Aelwyn tried to tease her about it Adaine looked absolutely disgusted.

“Why the fuck would I fancy some old money turncoat? He literally was just using any affection I had for him to end the fucking world. I’d punch that spoiled bitch in the face again just like I did with the dragons he sent to ruin Fabian’s birthday,” she spat.

It started over that summer, Adaine and some of the Bad Kids had taken to “tutoring” the Rat Grinders on how to adventure properly. Adaine had brought Oisin over to the tower in Mordred to discuss some sort of thing to do with Adaine’s mephits, the ‘Dry Guys’ if Aelwyn recalled correctly. Before she had left for work Aelwyn had made sure to bolster the Nemesis ward in Adaine’s room before she left. She would not be having that boy mess with her baby sister, not in a millenia. Aelwyn spent the next hours of her shift at the Compass Points feeling the arcana of the ward for anything amiss. Though she felt nothing that didn’t stop her from texting Zayn to peek in on Adaine and Oisin to see if he was pulling any funny business. She received a photo back from the ghostly fellow of Adaine looking down at a piece of parchment on the floor of their shared room, quill tip set between her teeth in concentration. Next to her was Oisin, who sat cross-legged with his face leaning up against his clawed hand gazing doe-eyed at her sister. God, Aelwyn could see that look that now followed Fabian whenever he talked about Mazey. She looked at the clock and decided that the library would just close early that day because she had a pest to scare.

As she walked through the door back into Mordred she was greeted by Sandra-Lynn and Jawbone before she stormed up to the tower, rocketing past Fig and Kristen who coincidentally were also spying on Adaine. As she walked through the door she did so calmly, years of repressing any feelings other than jealousy and pettiness really did give her a good resting bitch face. 

“Adaine, I see you have a guest over,” she smiled, though the glare she was giving Oisin was anything but subtle. 

Adaine of course shot her a dirty look as Oisin’s scaled face blushed purple, “Aelwyn I thought you were working late tonight. I didn’t expect you to be back so early with Ayda not being there to run it today?” 

“Adaine you’re so funny, dear sister. Now let me have a look at this spellcraft, you know I’ve always been so good with these things.”

Aelwyn sat down with the two, purposely placing herself in between the teens. Adaine had taken it in stride, literally nothing about the interaction changed for her. Aelwyn truly just joined in on their spell crafting, she could tell Adaine was grateful for the extra set of eyes. However, Oisin was notably more shut off. He really kind of just ignored Aelwyn, trying to lean in toward Adaine when he was asking questions about Adaine’s rune work. The night went well otherwise, she had successfully defended her sister from the boy clearly all moony eyed over her. 

As Adaine sees Oisin out the door Fig and Kristen both leap at Aelwyn in the halls.

“So what happened in there Aelwyn, why did you come home early? What. Did. He. Do.”

She is bombarded with all the possible questions and observations that Fig and Kristen had made and in return dishes out all that she noticed back. She hadn’t remembered the last time someone had fancied Adaine but Kristen and Fig did. Apparently, the last person was that freak Biz Gilitterdew. Aelwyn shuttered in disgust and mentally noted to take a trip down to Hell to kill the tiny little pipsqueak basement scum for trying to put the moves in her sister even when they hated each other and she was evil at the time. She also got the download about all the history with Oisin that Adaine had conveniently left out when Aelwyn had pressed to know about the boy her sister fancied. So to say that Aelwyn was contemplating hunting Dragonborn for fun wasn’t a lie. From what she got from Fig and Kristen was that Oisin had used the cover of being a love-struck idiot (or maybe he was a love-struck idiot) to lead Adaine on so that he could plan a bunch of arcane whatever to make Seacaster Manor go airborne. Then after he had supposedly tried to cover for his friend for being assholes and then killed one of his party members he had said that she ‘must not be a very good oracle’ because she didn’t forecast that there was going to be a storm at Fabian’s birthday. Now that was something that Aelwyn could not forgive, not only was she the only one who was allowed to tease her sister about oracle things but he wasn’t allowed to say those exact words to Adaine, especially about storms and oceans. Aelwyn knew what Adaine saw in the Nightmare King’s forest and she knew that anything about the previous oracle and storms haunted her sister. 

Adaine soon made her way back up to where the little cabal of the girls of Mordred Manor had been gossiping. She yelled indignantly and threw a book at Fig when she started teasing. Aelwyn could tell from the look on her sister’s face and her voice, no hot flush or any enamoured quiver in her voice, that she really had gotten over Oisin completely and that this was all just in the name of sister bonding.  

“Kristen was the one who said we should try to fix the Rat Grinders, I’m just doing this so that they won’t join another teacher’s weird cult,” Adaine shouted indignantly. 

— — — — — — — — — — — —

It had been many weeks since Oisin had started to come over for tutoring, of course, the ever patient Adaine Abernant was gracious to the fool even while he was literally (to Aelwyn) staring at her like a lost puppy. Aelwyn made a habit of always crashing their little study sessions. Sometimes it was a text to Adaine telling her to get away so that she could gossip and other times it was Aelwyn straight up just coming home early. 

Every time Oisin gave her a smile that she could tell was laced with the ‘you ruined my life’ vibes, not that he’ll ever be able to pull off that smile like Penelope Everpetal. He was always polite but always insisted that he and Adaine were fine on their own.

“I’m sure you have so much stuff to do, me and Adaine have got this one.”

“Oh I’m sure my sister has everything under control but you seem to be lacking- I mean look at your rune for conjure elementals. This linework- here let me.”

Most of their interactions were passive-aggressive at best and outright venomous at best, Aelwyn had offered to see Oisin out one night, and Adaine had to take care of business relating to Gilear and some cursed object he had found at a yard sale. 

“Sorry Oisin, good work today! By next time I’m sure your party is going to be fine during the Last Stand,” Adaine shouted as Fig was literally pulling her out the door.

The room was silent, just Aelwyn perched on her bottom bunk holding Boggy in her hands. Oisin got up and started to pack his things, heading for the door. As he did, clawed hand on the doorknob to leave. With a click, Aelywn pushed the door closed with a mage hand.

“Hakinvar, you and I have something to discuss.”

Aelwyn didn’t look up, her eyes glowed as did the runes she had lovingly, carefully painted onto the floor. Oisin didn’t move, frozen in fear as he let out slow fearful breaths. 

Aelwyn set Boggy down, scritching under what she assumed was the frog orb’s chin, and motioned for Oisin to move away from the door. He did. Stiff as only a body once caught by rigour mortis could. He faced Aelwyn, just slightly taller than her due to his ancestry. 

“I can see you getting all ensorcelled by our dear oracle but as her older evil sister, I will have to intervene. You know the last guy who messed with her had his fingers shot off by her little rouge friend. I heard that Gorgug cleaved your ass into two. They brought you back because they are good moral people. Had it been up to me, well I’m sure you know I worked with Kalvaxus and The Nightmare King so I’m sure such a capable wizard like you could figure it out. I know what you’ve said to her, what you’ve done to her, and I’ll have you know that I can be very tricky if you cross me.”

She draws her fingers along the ground tracing the nemesis ward with a manicured hand.

“You are aware of what this ward means, yes?”

“Yes, I know what you mean,” Oisin finally replied.

Aelwyn smiled, “Good then I’m sure you’ll be far more careful in future when it comes to that blabbering mouth,” she allowed the glow to cease, picking up Boggy as she rose. 

Oisin practically bolted out of the room, nodding as he collected his gear. Aelwyn nuzzled the perfect familiar as she followed. Good, always good for people to know their place.

[fxllfaiiry]

─ you're the sunflower ੈ✩‧₊˚

✶ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader

✶ synopsis: everyone on the team loves you, expect miguel who seems to hate you more than anyone.

✶ warnings: angst!! major angst. sunshine!reader x grumpy!miguel. reader is nicknamed sunflower, mentions of death.

✶ notes: there's one spanish sentence in this, I'm not good with spanish so if I've made a mistake please tell me so i can fix it! part two is already up!!!

Everyone on the team loved you from the moment you joined, everyone, except Miguel. 

You knew Miguel was cold towards everyone, but he was extra cold with you. Maybe it was because of how different your personalities were. 

You were the embodiment of sunshine, always positive in any situation, putting others before yourself. Hence why everyone calls you sunflower, it fits perfectly, Miles was proud of coming up with it. 

Miguel on the other hand was cold and distant but that didn't stop you from trying to get him to open up. You'd try to have simple conversations with him but nothing, all you would receive in reply was an eye roll or a slight grunt, but you wouldn't give up that easily. 

Like today, you got him some coffee. 

"Morning, boss. Got you some coffee." You said in your usual cheerful tone. 

"Why?" He raised his eyebrows, looking down at you suspiciously. That's the most he's said to you all week. 

"Because I wanted to." You shrugged, placing it down on his desk. 

He steped down walking towards his desk, you couldn't help but stare at him, unfortunately for you, everything about him was so attractive, it's such a shame he hated you. 

"This isn't how I like my coffee." 

"Huh?" You snapped out of your daydream at the sound of his voice. 

"The coffee, it tastes terrible. Get it from another place next time." 

"Well, actually I made it-" But he had already walked away from you not listening to a word you said. "Alright, never mind, I'll just go back to work." You mumbled hurt by his words. 

"Wait, hold on." You looked up, thinking, maybe he'll say something nice after all. 

"Yeah?" 

"Take the coffee with you, I won't be drinking it." 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Girl, why do you look so sad? Did Miguel do something again?" Jess asked with a frown, she did not like seeing you sad. 

"No."

"Sunflower…"

"Okay, yes." Miguel being cold towards you was normal, he never spoke to you unless necessary. Out of everyone here, he probably hated you the most, even more than Miles.  

"Sunflower, I've told you to stop trying." Jess sighed. 

"I know, I know… why does he hate me so much, Jess?" 

"That's just the way he is, don't overthink it. It's his loss, baby." She replied, gently patting your shoulder. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Today was going to be a good day, you were so sure of it. 

But, of course, you were wrong. 

Everything was going great up until a few hours ago. 

Miguel had assigned you on a mission to catch an anomaly, alongside a few other spider-people. His instructions were clear, stick to the plan and catch the anomaly. It was supposed to be simple. 

If only you didn't disobey him. You screwed up badly, and because of that, you could have been killed. 

"Why don't you ever listen?" Miguel shouted. No one had ever seen him this angry. 

"I was just tryin-" 

"¡Ay, por el amor de Dios!" Being yelled at by your boss in front of your coworkers was humiliating, everyone was looking at you with pity. 

"I'm sick of this, why can’t you follow simple instructions? Is it that hard to understand?" He barked, towering over you. 

"It's not a big deal." You tried to keep your composure, you didn't want to humiliate yourself further by bursting into tears. 

"Not a big deal? You could've died! A simple mistake would have ruined the whole mission." 

Don't cry. Don't cry. 

"But we're all fine, aren't we?" You weakly chuckled. That was the wrong thing to say because it only made him angrier. 

"Oh? If that's the attitude you have then you shouldn't even be on the team." Ouch. 

"Miguel, I think that's enough-" Hobie said, quickly jumping in. 

"Not now, Hobie." He growled. 

Never once did you think that you'd be in a situation like this. 

"If you put more focus on trying to be good at your job, rather than impressing me, we wouldn't even be here!" Oh, so he did notice that. 

At this point, tears were streaming freely down your face and you made no attempt to stop them. 

"Yep, you got it, boss." You smiled up at him through your tears. It was pathetic, but you did not care, you just wanted to leave and never come back. 

"Next time make sure this doesn't happen." 

"It won't happen next time." That's because there won't be a next time.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

UPDATE What's up, it's the proposal guy. You said you wanted to know how this turned out, so I figured I'd tell you. First some context though, because I'm mean and I wanna keep you in suspense longer.

1- I don't wanna doxx us so I'm not telling you where we live, but suffice to say, neither of us are American, and gay marriage has been legal here for less than five years. For both of us, this is the first relationship we've had where marriage was even an OPTION, and I think that's where we've been getting some of that whole 'this has to be a REAL proposal with EVERYTHING' idea.

2- I gotta figure out how to explain this properly. So, I'm pretty used to being the GUY guy in relationships? I was always the one who did the nice gestures, not the one they got done for. Before I met my dream guy, I didn't really notice or care that it was such a thing, I just assumed that's how shit worked. Also, I promised I wouldn't talk a lot about his stuff here, but his last boyfriend before me SUCKED. Anyway point here is, it turns out we both REALLY like feeling swept off our feet sometimes, and a big part of finding each other has been getting to feel special for once? That's a stupid sappy way of putting it the point here is I think all that's what morphed into "I need to be the one getting proposed to, also it has to be completely perfect", and then our Petty & Extra genes got involved.

So I'm sitting in bed thinking about all that up there, and watching all the comments coming in basically being like "Dude, you are BLOWING this" on repeat, and telling me to compromise, and I look up and see him flossing in the bathroom and making all these doofy faces at the mirror, and it's like a switch just flips in my brain, and I'm like "Oh, I'd rather he gets to have his perfect proposal than we both have an okay one". I'm gonna do it.

Morning rolls around, and while I'm 'out for my jog like normal' I hit up a pawn shop for a temp ring (the ring pop thing is cute but NOT HIM). I found one I was at least confident wouldn't get ruined the first time he got his hands greasy (he fixes old machines as a hobby it's hot as hell), got back home, and hid the box in the toe of my nasty ass workout shoes in the bedroom closet, since I figured he'd check there last.

He was still asleep, because he stays up late no matter what and then is SHOCKED he's tired the next day, so I called and booked a table at our usual anniversary spot. (Side note about the 'he picks bad restaurants' thing. This isn't an 'I like Greek, you like Chinese' situation, dude's just BAD at finding places. He either assumes pricey is tasty and I get to eat some overrated gourmet bullshit, or he'll try and find something hip and underground and risk giving us food poisoning again, and he REFUSES to give up and pick somewhere we've been before when it's his turn to plan date night. I'm obsessed with him <3.) Date was set, I'd propose on the 21st.

Some of you might have noticed this, but fun fact! It's currently the 16th.

Last night I'm doing dishes and he's been sent to our room for mug collection duty, and he's taking FOREVER, so I go check just in case he found the ring, because the man's a gift tracking BLOODHOUND. Turns out he hasn't, he's found my Angry Box.

I assume other people have an Angry Box? Basically, we had this huge messy fight right when we first moved in together, and I never wanna let it get that bad again, so I have this shoebox where I keep a bunch of our stuff I can look at if we're fighting and hopefully cool off. There's one of those photo booth roll things, letters we wrote when he moved back with his parents for COVID, the wine cork from our first date, shit like that. Anyway, he's just sitting on the floor staring at it, and I explain about the Angry Box, and then he! Proposes!!! Kind of.

He definitely didn't have anything prepared, because by 'propose' I mean 'ugly cried & rambled at me for several minutes before I figured out it WAS a proposal', but once I got on the same page it was amazing. I said yes, and he had to admit he didn't have a ring for me because he was CONVINCED he'd win and I'd do it, so I grabbed mine because, yeah, he was right. He was like "this is the ugliest ring I've ever seen" and I was like yeah well the plan is to replace it later and he went "No. You can pry this off my cold dead fingers. After I'm buried with it." So I guess it's not a temporary ring anymore.

I'm just gonna go ahead and skip to this morning. I pointed out we still have the reservation, and he said I should propose there anyway because "We can get a free dessert. They have those creme brulee shot glasses you like. And for love, or something" and I said ok deal, but that means you gotta get me a ring to keep it fair, and his eyes LIT UP. When I swung by his work for lunch he was still on the phone with a jeweler and he had a whole page of notes on three other ones. Pray for me.

OH PS: I was RIGHT that he'd been the one behind the cat biting me, but it wasn't about the proposal stuff, it's because I paid my baby sister three dollars to shout 'fuck you' every single time he enters a room she's in for (if you ask me, he should be madder at my sister for charging so little), and he did it by giving her a bunch of treats for biting his hands too, so now neither of us can pet our baby girl without oven mitts on. HOLY SHIT I love this man.

Oh my goddddddd I love everything about this <333 I awwww'd out loud on a voice call, like, six times while reading. You two are friggin perfect for each other and so obviously smitten with each other and I wish y'all all the happiness in the world

PS Are y'all planning to have a big wedding? If so oh boy I can't WAIT to get that one in the inbox

Original post

[cerastes]

I saw there are a lot of forest fire in chile right now. are you gonna be okay?

Three days after the fact, yeah, I'll be fine, personally and physically, but it's dire, I'm not going to lie. I've never seen so much fire in my life. When you think about a big fire, your impression might be two or three buildings on fire with some firefighter trucks spraying water at it. This was kilometers upon kilometers of raging blazes. Kilometers. Heads up if you are sensitive to these kinds of posts, this isn't a happy one.

Entire hills on fire. Lush green hills reduced to ash and smoke.

Not to mention the urban parts that got hit badly

The official death toll keeps increasing each passing hour as they clear up the rubble and ruins and find more corpses. People I know lost everything. Some people I know lost their loved ones. Dogs are eating corpses on the street because they haven't picked them up yet, so you have neighbors warding off said dogs. Bodies get picked up too badly burned, eaten, decomposed, or a mix thereof to be identified.

It's a tragedy. It all reeks of smoke, there's ash everywhere.

It was sudden, it was brutal. Seeing elderly survivors wondering "what's next for me? I don't have enough years left among the living to rebuild all I lost, all I worked for throughout my life, gone like that" breaks my heart. The government is offering all sorts of aid, but there's also people whose documents, like ID and other identifying documentation, was lost in the fire, so they have to get re-issued an ID before they can actually start filing for aid. The SML (Servicio Médico Legal) is oversaturated with all that's suddenly on their plate and can't return the bodies of people to their families yet, and these are all people that still need food, shelter, hygiene, and so on after the fact. Seeing the logistical nightmare that becomes life after you lose everything firsthand from other people is sobering and painful. Yeah, they survived, but what comes next? It's a sense of uncertainty that is smothering and asphyxiating, it's hopelessness.

I apologize if I come across as dramatic, especially so as someone who was luckily not affected, but it really, really has been heartbreaking to witness, especially from very up close, as I was there, and it's one thing to know of a tragedy that happened elsewhere, maybe even in your own country, but elsewhere, and it's a whole other beast to have seen it directly as it unfolded.

Keep Chile in your thoughts. If you are able to, please consider donating to Desafío Levantemos Chile, to my knowledge the only drive that accepts Paypal, thus, foreign donations, to help the various efforts to rebuild and aid those affected. Desafío Levantemos Chile dates back to 2010, when Chile got hit by a devastating earthquake, and is an NGO that bases its continued existence in being able to provide aid during catastrophes such as this one.

[hotpinkstars]

How about blind!reader with genshin men (you can choose) and she accidentally slipped and somehow managed to mess up genshin man’s important work and he ends up blowing up on her? Angst please and I don’t mind if you do comfort or no comfort!!

Have a great day🌚

-> blinded mistakes

synopsis -> you're blind, and you accidentally knock over a months worth of your husbands work, and it gets ruined.

warnings -> super angsty!!! brief mentions of ayato putting his hands on reader (no hitting or anything) might do a part 2 for comfort part cus i wanted to focus on the main argument w this one...

a/n -> ooooooomg i'm a sucker for these tropes i love angst so much. thx for ur request, this was sm fun to write! 💗💗

w/c -> 1.1k

-> ayato

ayato knew you were blind, and he was as understanding of it as he possibly could be.

but in times like these, where all of this work was to be turned in for city matters by next week, he had no patience for anyone.

he had been cooped up in his office for a while at a time over the past month. these documents were incredibly important to him and how the words written on the paper could impact how festivities were held to be a much easier way for himself and the city. 

basically, his papers were pretty damn important. and you knew that.

you walked in his office one day with thoma helping you through the hallways. you didn’t want to trip, especially with a mug of tea in your hand, and you didn’t want to bring a cane with you. 

but, thoma may have made a big mistake of leaving you in ayatos care as soon as you walked through the door. because you knew ayato was in no way shape or form able to draw himself from his work at the moment.

you were not able to use your cane to feel around the room, so without knowing where the rug was, you tripped.

and the tea you held in your hands went all over his desk, soaking his documents. the ink was splotchy and obviously ruined. you weren’t able to see what happened, but by the way ayato gasped and grabbed your wrist you knew you fucked up pretty bad.

“what the hell were you thinking???” he pulls you up forcefully and pushes you down on his couch, where you started tearing up. you weren’t necessarily used to him yelling at you, for arguments, especially over such as this, were very minimal. he always found a way to come to an understanding with you, no matter what you may have ruined. 

“i’m sorry! i didn’t think thoma was just going to leave-” you were cut off by an angry voice.

“this isn’t thomas issue, y/n. it’s yours. how clueless can you be?” he brings his hands to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose before groaning loudly. 

“i’m sorry that i can’t fucking see, ayato!” you yelled back, slamming your hands on the couch and leaning back. “is that what you wanted to hear?”

he shook his head, but you didn’t know that. he lays his hands on your thighs, squeezing them, before getting close to your face. you could smell his hair, the sakura shampoo he uses being evident. 

“i don’t want a fucking apology, y/n. if these documents are not in by friday, there is no change for inazuma. the change you’ve been awaiting, the change i’ve been awaiting, and the change everyone of the city has been awaiting. you took that away from all of them. because you decided you weren’t going to bring your cane to make sure you don’t fucking fall!” he yells to your face, making the tears spill out.

“i’m sorry! i just wanted to bring you something to drink because i was told you were overworking yourself. gosh, how bad of me for caring for my husband,” you yelled, hands shaking in both fear and rage. you knew talking back to him this way wouldn’t lead to anything good, but you tested your luck anyways.

“remove yourself from my office. i don’t care how the fuck you do it, but i demand you leave,” he said with a low, threatening tone. you knew he was enraged, and you stumbled through the door to the hallway, where ayaka was waiting to take you back to your room.

-> wriothesley

you always felt grateful for wriothesley, and the last thing you wanted to do was to upset him. he was one of the only people to look past your disability and see your heart, see your kindness and purity. 

so when you come up his office stairs very, very slowly with a cup of tea and trip on an uneven plate in the ground, ruining his documents that were incredibly important to him and the palais mermonia, especially to neuvillette, you knew you were screwed.

normally, this didn’t happen. he’d meet you down by his office door after a guard or sigewinne escorted you through the fortress, and help you walk up the stairs with the support of his arm.

he immediately slams his hands down on his table, walking over to where you were. 

you felt his presence looming over you, though unable to see it, you slowly and carefully sit up. he lifts up your chin before speaking.

“why. why would you do that,” he starts in a low tone, something similar he’d use to speaking to misbehaved criminals. “i told you not to visit me today. and what do you do? the complete fucking opposite!” 

you rub your eyes, trying to show no signs of weakness. you stand up, and he grabs your hands, making you feel the mess you made. ripped papers, bleeding ink. a month of progress is officially gone. 

“you feel what you did? that has taken me months! and it’s ruined! if i lose my job because of this-” he starts, dropping your hands as you turn around, your bottom leaning against the desk. 

“i’m sorry! i should’ve either stayed home or have a guard escort me up, i didn’t mean to ruin your progress!” you wipe more tears away, hearing him give an annoyed sigh. 

“you’re right. you shouldn’t have come at all. this would never have happened if you didn’t come. do you understand how much trouble i could be in? if you didn’t visit me at all, i wouldn’t have to go through the embarrassment of asking for new documents, and i wouldn’t have to do hundreds of papers in three damned days!” he says, obviously distressed.

“look, i’m sorry, okay?! you can tell neuvillette and all of fontaine that i was the one who ruined everything if you want to! i’m sorry about the hassle and i’m sorry for putting more stress on you! all i wanted to do was bring you a cup of tea because you left the house stressed this morning!” you yelled back, crying at this point. “if you don’t want the embarrassment, then you can embarrass me. it seems like i’ve done enough to deserve it, so do it! tell the whole world what i did wrong, and how horrible of a wife i was!”

you called a guard in to escort you out, and that was the last wriothesley had seen of you that day.

[retroellie]

Polluted

Summary: After a long day of work, Spencer comes home and fucks his stresses away.

A/N: This was written in literally 45 minutes but I had this idea and I couldn't make it into a full fic, my mind could only think of the smut part lmao. Enjoy!!! :)

Warnings: NSFW, slapping, degradation, squirting, unprotected sex, mean!spencer

Word count: 1.9K

Prison changed Spencer Reid, plain and simple. This is not the man you came to love. He was cruel, possessive, completely and utterly damaged. You hoped that prison wouldn't taint Spencer too much, you hoped that he would continue to be sweet little Dr. Spencer Reid. But you knew what prison could do to a person, for you locked people up daily. You knew that the system would take Spencer's old soul and soft heart into its muddy hands, squeezing them until they became one. Although sometimes in the right lighting, in the right moment, you can see a hint of Spencer in his light brown eyes.

You can't say that you hated the change in Spencer, obviously there was much work to be done before Spencer could truly be himself again. However, you could live with this change. He was hungry, feeling as though your body was the only thing that could fill that hunger. It was extremely attractive to you, his sudden hunger for you. Spencer was always using you, using your body or your mouth or your hands... just you. There was always an excuse for him to be inside of you in his mind. A man thought of looking at you? He bent you over the kitchen table. You wore a shirt that showed a bit of your chest? He dragged you into the bathroom and forced you onto your knees. You smiled at him? He would shove his face between your thighs until you couldn't even see straight.

Even on the way back home after he had gotten out of prison, he bent you over the backseat on the side of the road and fucked you roughly. It felt like you were stepping on eggshells every time around him because you never know what can set him off... it was oddly scandalous, almost arousing as the thought of how he'd fuck you next was always on your mind. A big plus was that spencer dug himself into your brain, pulling out your deepest and darkest kinks, and using them to give you earth-shattering, mind-blowing, life-changing orgasms. Now you don't think you two could ever go back to just plain sex. He had ruined you, ruined your body so much that only the thought of being hurt could get you off now.

"Fucking bitch..." Spencer spat out, his hand spreading your legs further open as his cock drilled into your soaked cunt. "That bitch looked at me like I was fucking stupid..."

His words came out breathy and jagged as he fucked into you at an animalistic pace. Spencer came home today upset, his tie being ripped off and thrown down as soon as he got into the door. You knew something was up by this action, but also the look on his face. He seemed to have a frown sewn onto his face, something that he wore most days. You asked what was wrong but you were met with him ripping off your clothes, hinting that he didn't want to talk but to fuck his frustrations into you. Now here you were, panties ripped off, legs wide open, Spencer deep inside you with his hand placed on your neck.

You couldn't tell how many times you came just in this position alone, you couldn't keep count. His hand gripped your through, affecting the way your brain functioned. You felt with every thrust of Spencer's hips you would lose brain cells... creating the dumb cock whore that Spencer ached to achieve. Spencer's hand applied more pressure to your throat as he thought of what happened at work, how while section chief Erin Strauss critiqued his work, people were being murdered.

"As if my 187 IQ wasn't enough for her." He started, his hand on your thigh being slammed down past your face and into the wooden table he was drilling you into. " I mean, I've been at this place for over 10 years... I know what I'm fucking doing"

You came again, not able to keep yourself from unraveling now. His hand on your throat was constricting your moans, completely silencing them as the only thing that could come out of your mouth was soft gurgles. You loved this feeling, knowing that at any moment if you didn't like it you could alert Spencer and he'd stop immediately. I guess you could say that Spencer's care for you never disappeared after prison, he would go on to say that it strengthened his love for you. He had this picture of you that you had sent him in one of your many letters, he kept it with him everywhere he went for it was the only thing that kept him sane.

One time a fellow inmate saw it, snatched it from him, and digested every single inch of you. He went on to explain the disgusting things he would do to you if he got the chance, that is exactly why Spencer came home to fuck you nice and good every night. Because if he wasn't the one to do it, he knew that other people would take you for granted, they would spend only minutes with you... ignoring what you needed and taking what they wanted. You would feel incomplete, unsatisfied, and completely in denial that love existed. You would assume love was only made for books and movies, that no one could show you the love you deserved. This is the love you deserve. You deserve a love that could have you coming undone over and over again, a harsh and mean kind of love but that always ended with soft kisses and a nice hot bath. A love that was sour at first but ended sweet, making sure that the words "i love you" were carved onto your skin.

"You wouldn't do that would you?" He whispered into your ear, his grip on your throat as he waited for your response. " You don't think I'm stupid ...hmm?"

His cock was too deep inside you, it was deep enough to have you going cross-eyed and unable to speak. Your moans became audible now, no longer being stuck in your throat due to his pressure being released. His pace was still inhumanly fast, not stopping even for a second. The table had started to shit forward, being scrapped across the floor and probably worrying the downstairs neighbors. You were on the verge of cumming again, your mind not even able to comprehend his question until you felt a harsh sting on your cheek. Spencer had slapped you across the face, growing impatient while waiting for your answer.

"Answer me...." He hissed out, leaning down and taking his lips to yours. He bit down on your lip, creating a pain that shot through your body. "Or I'm going to make you cum over and over and over again until you can't think of anything else besides my cock deep inside your tight little pussy..."

You could taste blood now, your lip bleeding and seeping into your mouth. His words created this deep, rough knot in your stomach. It wasn't like the rest of the orgasms you had tonight, no it was more intense. It hurt, painful with every thrust of his cock. It created a deep pain and pleasure dynamic in your body but felt like something was trying to claw itself out of your body.

"Fuck..." You screamed out, grabbing onto him and digging your fingernails into his back. "No I wouldn't! Fuck... I wouldn't! I won't!"

You finally replied, hoping with those words he would deepen his thrust if that was even possible. Spencer just grinned down at you, placing his head in between your shoulder blade and your neck. He set soft kisses to the skin, his warm lips against your burning skin. Spencer was close, your words pushing him further to the edge. The feeling inside your stomach didn't stop or dull, it only got worse. You were screaming now, Spencer's hand lingering on your neck but sitting gently on your skin. Spencer picked up his speed, the table scraping against the floor even harder.

You couldn't handle it, everything around you becoming so far away yet being so close. The feeling got to a point of feeling terrifyingly painful but also so potent of pleasure and so bewitching that you didn't want it to end now. A couple more of Spencer's deep and harsh thrusts sent you over the edge, the painful knot in your stomach snapping and shooting liquid out of your body. It was the first time you had ever squirted, the feeling so glorious that you wished it would happen every time. Your vision went out, only seeing light and hearing Spencer's soft moans as he finished inside of you. The world felt like it ended, nothing to be seen or to be experienced... just emptiness but complete fullness all at the same time.

"Good girl..." You heard Spencer's words echo through your now-empty mind. You couldn't tell if your eyes were closed or not. "You did so good for me honey... I'm so proud of you."

Those single words were all you needed to hear as you floated back to earth and into your body, you blinked a couple times... forgetting where and who you were for a split second. You came back to see Spencer brushing your hair back from your sweaty face, his face inches from yours as his face filled with concern that maybe he had broken you finally.

"There she is..." He chuckled softly, kissing your lips softly. " There's my girl..."

You gave him a weak smile, raise your hand to rest on his cheek. You rubbed it softly, feeling the growing stubble on his face. He was just as sweaty as you, his body hot to the touch. You two probably looked insane, one of you barely able to walk looking beat the hell up and the other one scratched up and drenched with liquids. Spencer gently slid himself out of you, watching you wince softly as it felt like he was connected to you at this point.

"Sorry..." He whispered, taking your hand in his as he rubbed your thigh gently "I was too rough huh?"

Rough was not even close to what Spencer was. He was brutal, sadistic, barbaric but you couldn't deny that you would choose it over compassion any day. You began to think that maybe prison was the best thing that could've happened to Spencer Reid, not only was he a genius but he now had a powerful glow to him. Shy kisses and longing gazes were a thing of the past for you two, Spencer knew what he wanted and he was going to get it.

"You were just rough enough..." I chuckled, feeling nothing but content and at peace in this moment.

Spencer laughed with you, pecking your lips one last time before pulling away from you. He looked around, his eyes landing on the couch. He smiled, walking over and leaving you but only for a second. He came back with a blanket, wrapping it around you then picking you up bridal style. You thanked him silently because you knew there was no way you were getting off the table without some kind of help.

"To the bath you go..." He joked, holding you close to him as he walked you to your shared bathroom. 

You looked into his eyes and at the right lighting, the right moment, you looked into his light brown eyes... realizing that this is Spencer Reid. This is Spencer Reid damaged, polluted, and bruised... but it was still the man you fell in love with all those years ago.

[chelseeebe]

still into you

after abruptly leaving hawkins (and you) seven years ago, eddie munson, ex-boyfriend turned rockstar, makes a grand return. how will things pan out when your lives couldn’t be further apart?

this has been in the drafts for god knows how long and you can definitely tell where my writing started to improve as i came back to it.. hope y’all enjoy anyway! this is so long good lord. also includes a bit of bestfriendism with stevie!

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of alcohol. eddie is a dickhead. no use of y/n!

read part two here.

‎♡‧₊˚

‘you know he’s coming back next weekend?’ steve mutters, nodding towards you as you rip the sellotape from the brown box, beginning to stack the cans of soup.

‘is he? oh my god oh my god,’ feigning excitement with a straight face.

you’d already known he was coming back, you’d received the invitation just like everybody else. except, you’d swiftly put the gimmicky piece of paper into the trash and got on with your day. confused why everyone else seemed to be losing their goddamn minds over it.

he huffs quietly, helping you with the heavy tins, ‘are you gonna go?’ steve didn’t actually work in melvalds but came in on his breaks purely to chat and distract you from your work.

‘am i gonna go? hmm, let me think.. no.’

‘he wants to see you.. you should come,’ prodding his elbow into your side, collapsing the box into a flat piece of cardboard.

‘you spoke to him?’ ears perking up. you didn’t care if he’d mentioned you. no, really.

‘yeah.. he called a few weeks ago, y’know when the invitations got sent out,’ picking up the next box to start filling the shelf.

‘oh! it’s nice to know he called you and just hilarious to know i never got a phone call,’ getting frankly quite sick of hearing about eddie fucking munson and his grand return.

once upon a time, eddie had actually been your boyfriend. must’ve been 7 or so years ago by this point.. anyway, that was before he’d got his big break and decided that he was going to completely forget about hawkins.. and about you. you’d still been together after his first tiny tour, excitedly waiting for him to come home when he just.. never did.

he’d had the decency to at least call and tell you that he was breaking up with you.. we’re just in different places right now.. it’s not you.. i don’t want you to ruin your life waiting for me..

it was essentially a whole bunch of bullshit, because the very next month he was spotted with some bottle blonde model looking suspiciously close at some club he’d have absolutely hated the year prior. it was like a punch to the gut, flicking through the pages of the trashy magazine just knowing that you hadn’t been enough for this new lifestyle of his.

from then on, you’d decided to disengage with any and everything about him. turning the tv off when corroded coffin came on one of the morning talk shows, leaving the room at parties when one of his song’s inevitably came on and just completely blanking out of the conversation when his name was brought up. it was easier that way, saved your feelings and the awkward glances you’d get.

at some point things had become slightly more complicated and you’re not sure how exactly it had happened but you had wound up pregnant. and by jason carver no less. maybe it was your shared disdain for eddie that had brought you together. who knows?

but it had happened and now you had to deal with it. and although jason may come in a close second to world’s biggest assholes.. you had gained a beautiful daughter from it all and had become quite content with your single mom life.

people had come and gone, robin jetting off to some fancy college in california.. jonathan and nancy ending up in new york at some hot-shot newspaper.. the kids you’d sort of gathered had all gone off to various colleges, becoming adults themselves. all except for steve.

steve had stayed in hawkins like you, begrudgingly following his father’s footsteps, getting a job at his accounting firm. it was good money and kept his dad happy so he couldn’t fault it really. he’d even got his own place just down the street from your house and at some point you’d just accepted that he was probably your only friend in hawkins.

it had brought the two of you undeniably closer and maybe you’d even call him your best friend now. well, except for right now as he was beginning to piss you off with all this fussing over eddie.

‘you have to come.. it’s not just for him, everyone is going.. it’s a reunion,’ steve continues to pester you despite your efforts to shut him down.

‘steve, i’m not going and that’s that.’

he sighs, staring at you with a blank expression, ‘okay, well.. i’ll tell him it’s a maybe,’ checking his watch before frowning, ‘shit, i’m late.. i’ll see you later,’ throwing the empty cardboard to the floor before dashing off down the aisle, giving you an exaggerated wave as he disappears.

you just knew that he was not going to drop this until you agreed to go. but he could kick and scream as much as he liked, you had absolutely zero desire to go this flimsy reunion and even less desire to see eddie in the flesh.

-

it’s another dull week of stacking shelves and managing a team of absolute morons and before you know it, it’s the day before that fucking reunion and steve is still as incessant as ever that you must go.

‘my mom can look after ella.. please just come,’ he sounded like he was a second away from getting on his knees to actually beg you to go.

you’d started to just ignore him now, getting on with whatever you were doing, choosing to give him the silent treatment. he hated that.

‘you’re so annoying,’ he scoffs, still helping you unbox the bags of chips, ‘will you just come for five minutes.. you don’t even have to talk to eddie, it’s the first time we’ll all be together again.. puh-leaseee,’ breaking into a weird sort of sing-song tone.

you exhale through your nose, visibly frustrated by the man, ‘i’m going to ban you in a minute,’ raising your eyebrows, taking the same tone you used when ella was being a brat.

‘no you won’t,’ furrowing his brows, ‘what if i promise to stand in between you the whole night? i’ll beat him with a stick if he even tries to talk to you,’ completely serious with what he just said.

you chortle, covering your mouth as one of the elderly customers walks past, slightly bewildered by the noise that just escaped your mouth, ‘couldn’t you just beat him with a stick anyway?’

‘ehh.. not really, he is paying for the whole thing,’ straightening the bags of air he’d just placed on the shelf, ‘i mean, i could if you really want me to.’

you roll your eyes, of course he was. he’d rented the fanciest restaurant just outside of town for your gaggle of pals. any chance to flaunt the fact that he’d made it out of this hell hole and left the rest of you in the dirt.

‘i have a child, steve, i can’t just go out and leave her at home.. some of us aren’t free like you are,’ turning to face him with a stern hand on your hip.

‘i just told you my mom’ll look after her.. she hasn’t seen her in so long and.. and you can stay at mine and i’ll take you to her first thing in the morning,’ his eyes are round, glimmering in the harsh overhead lights.

‘i don’t have anything to wear,’ shrugging, you really didn’t. becoming a mother isn’t quite so glamorous and a lot of clothes you’d once fit into had become a little tight.

‘when d’you finish?’

narrowing your eyes at him, ‘two..’

‘great.. okay well, i’ll take a half-day and we can go shopping.. on me,’ wiggling his eyebrows at you. the thing about steve is that he believes that most problems can be solved by throwing money at it.

he wasn’t wrong, of course.

because you reluctantly agree to go shopping with him on the condition that you weren’t definitely going to this thing. you were just going to try on dresses. that was it.

-

you get a cab to the restaurant, there was no way in hell you were doing this sober nor did you want to subject steve to being sober for your sake. palms clammy as you clamber out of the vehicle, immediately regretting your decision.

no one would care if you didn’t go, right? you could quite easily just get back into the taxi and go home without forcing yourself to endure the night.

steve’s one step ahead of you, grabbing your hand so you can’t run away. throwing him an awful glare but you weren’t really mad, just annoyed that he’d succeeded in persuading you to come.

‘c’mon.. it won’t be so bad once you’re in there,’ smoothing down his fresh shirt as he begins to walk up the winding path, dragging you along behind him.

he’s wrong. it’s so much worse inside. the place was huge, extravagantly decorated and full of people you’d once regarded as your best friends, all too busy in their own conversations to notice you and steve walk in.

it wasn’t like you hadn’t heard from them, it had just been through occasional letters and christmas cards rather than seeing them face to face. robin would call sometimes, fill you in on whatever she had been up to and beg to speak to ella who absolutely loved it. you were sure they were on the same wavelength.

you look to steve with wary eyes, digging your fingertips into his hand, ‘we could just leave right now.. no one would even know,’ tugging gently on his arm.

‘hey,’ he whispers, ‘it’s okay.. look, robin’s coming over, we’ll say hi and see how you feel,’ using his spare hand to wave at the bubbly girl, dropping your hand to give her a hug.

‘oh my god,’ she rushes, ‘how are you? you look so good.. and i don’t mean you,’ pulling away from steve to throw her arms around you, her gentle hands rubbing on your back.

‘hah, it’s nice to see you too,’ steve rolls his eyes, grabbing two of the champagne flutes being ferried around by fancy waiters.

she pulls back, ‘i didn’t think you were coming.. how are you doing? how’s ella?’ the words falling out of her mouth at super speed, it was as if her mouth moved before her brain did.

‘i wasn’t gonna but i wanted to see you guys,’ you nod, taking the glass from steve’s outstretched hand and taking a lengthy sip, ‘i’m okay.. ella’s okay.. you’ll have to come and see her before you leave.’

‘i will i will! i literally landed like two hours ago and had to rush but i’m back until friday,’ her hands flying around as she spoke, ‘come and say hello..’ her arm intertwines with yours as she leans in closer to your ear, ‘he’s staring y’know..’

your eyes roll back on their own, not even wanting to search the room for him, ‘i’m not speaking to him so he can stare all he likes,’ straightening up as you approach the group robin had left.

nancy’s talking to max about something in incredible detail but is quite to stop when you approach, mouth in a small ‘o’ as she hugs you, ‘you came? i thought we were gonna miss you,’ grinning wide when she pulls back.

you give an overdramatic sigh, ‘of course i had to come.. you’d all miss me too much,’ waving to the rest of the group.

there are a lot of small pleasantries swapped, asking about their journey’s here and how they’d been.. standard small talk. but then el asks to see a picture of ella, ecstatic that their names were so similar. you’d come prepared, pulling the creased picture out of your bag.

they all gush and coo over her, it was a picture you’d snapped from her first day of kindergarten, cheesing with her pigtails and pink hair bobbles. passing it around the gathered group, still steadily sipping on the bitter champagne.

‘who’s that?’ eddie asks, you hadn’t noticed him sidle over to the crowd, stood peering over lucas’ shoulder at the photograph.

your eyes meet his, seeing his face for the first time in what felt like centuries. he looked older, obviously, still sporting the same long curls except now it actually looked as if it’d been styled. he’s in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, forearms now littered with tattoos and a nice looking watch. your heart just about stops beating when you realise you’ll now have to explain exactly who that is.

‘uh.. that’s ella,’ you nod, not quite meeting his eyes, ‘..my daughter,’ taking the photo from lucas’ hand, the atmosphere had quite suddenly shifted and people begin to scatter, starting their own conversations so they don’t have to bare witness to this one.

‘oh.. oh, right.. well, congratulations then,’ the shadow of a smile on his lips, could he feel how fucking awkward this was?

‘thank you,’ giving him a half nod, startled as steve’s hand brushes the small of your back. he’d seen that you were in conversation and had left dustin to fulfil his security guard promise.

‘it’s nice that you two found each other.. you have a beautiful daughter,’ still not fully committed to smiling but he was getting there.

your face contorts, immediately looking to steve before letting out a god awful cackle, ‘oh no.. she’s not steve’s,’ covering your mouth before another taunting laugh comes out.

steve is trying to stifle his grin but fails, reaching his hand out to shake eddie’s hand, ‘ah man, no ella’s not mine but she is beautiful, isn’t she? how are you?’

you’re eternally grateful that he he’s managed to sway the conversation and you aren’t forced to explain why or how you’d had a child with jason fucking carver. turning back to robin as you hear steve ramble on about work and corroded coffin’s new album, something you had absolutely no care about.

‘shall we get another drink?’ robin asks, eyeing the open bar and your empty glass.

‘please.’

the rest of the night is going.. relatively well. it’s kinda unsettling to watch the younger kids drink legally, getting more boisterous and loud as the night progresses. it’s nice, if not a little sad just thinking about how you weren’t really able to enjoy yourself at their age because you had a newborn.

you must’ve been deep in thought as you don’t even notice eddie creep up to the empty table, standing awkwardly besides your chair, ‘can we talk?’

your eyes shoot up to meet his, baffled by his presence, ‘what could we possibly have to talk about?’

he exhales through his nose, ‘uh.. a lot? we don’t have to do it here.. i have a room upstairs or.. outside?’

‘no,’ gripping onto your glass of wine, desperately trying to grab the attention of someone behind eddie to come and save you, ‘i don’t want to speak to you.’

he’s exasperated, clutching onto his beer with strained white knuckles. how were you ever supposed to move past this when you wouldn’t even give him the opportunity to explain himself. but that was exactly it. you didn’t care about any of the silly excuses you’re sure he’d conjured up, he did what he did and that was that.

‘i’m trying here..’ sounding exasperated, ‘how ‘bout dinner? sometime this week, on me,’ his voice is deeper now, raspier. you figure as a result of constant partying and chain smoking while on tour.

‘i have a child and a job.. i don’t have time for dinner with you on top of that,’ swallowing the rest of the sweet white wine, putting the empty glass back on the table with a forceful slam.

you make brief eye contact with will who was passing behind eddie and decide to take the opportunity to pounce, standing from your chair and rushing over the second he nears your table.

‘will.. hey,’ speeding to catch him up, mouthing a small save me, clinging to his arm as you move away from eddie who was stood deflated at the table.

will thankfully catches your drift, steering you towards the bar, ‘you okay? i was just about to leave..’ placing his empty glass onto the bar with a soft sigh.

‘what? no.. if i can’t go then you’re not allowed either,’ talking sternly to the boy even though he now towered above you and just about everybody else in here.

he screws up his face, looking over to the dance floor, ‘it’s just..’ sighing once again, ‘awful, isn’t it?’ following his gaze to an intoxicated mike performing an elaborate air guitar routine in the middle of the floor.

it wasn’t exactly the same, but you could empathise with the difficult situation and that foul feeling in your stomach that you were sure he could feel too. you could imagine that it wasn’t easy to see the man you’d once, or perhaps still loved after so long. in fact, you didn’t really need to imagine at all.

deciding it was better to change the subject, distract him from the unraveling scene on the dance floor, ‘d’you smoke?’

he looks around quickly, watching out for a listening jonathan, you assume before he nods quickly, ‘but no one can know,’ a hint of a smile creeping onto his face.

you return the devilish grin before hooking your arm in his, pulling him towards the door where you could get the hell away from annoying men and their long black hair.

-

it’s gone three by the time you get back to steve’s, genuinely having to coax him from the party and into the cab you’d shared with a belligerent dustin, making sure he had got home safely.

‘i wasn’t too mean, was i?’ snuggled up in steve’s blankets, facing each other in the low light of his room.

‘nooo, no you were on fire,’ he laughs, he was still tipsy and slightly reeking of booze as he lay next to you.

‘really? you’re sure?’ he was definitely just drunk and blabbing on but you’d take it.

‘yes.. it was perfect,’ he hiccups, interrupting his sentence, ‘buuut.. and i’m not the only one who said this so don’t kill me..’ kissing the back of his teeth, ‘you’re not gonna like what i have to say.’

‘what? what is it?’ prodding his shoulder with a quick jab. knowing eddie, he’d probably gone round the party whispering some bullshit about the two of you.

‘well..’ holding his hands in the air, ‘there’s still chemistry there.. y’know i could see it,’ raising his eyebrows, hands collapsing onto the blanket.

‘right, i’m going to sleep.. you’re drunk and just saying stupid shit now,’ rolling your eyes as you settle into the soft pillow, closing your eyes so you no longer had to entertain his idiotic nonsense.

he chortles, hiccuping mid-laugh which makes a horrid choking noise, ‘i’m not that drunk.. robin said it too,’ the lamp clicks off, darkening the room, ‘and dustin..’

‘go to sleep steve,’ unamused and tired.

‘okay okay.. goodnight,’ he calls, you can hear the smile in his voice as he turns to face the other way, taking that as your opportunity to rest your head on his back, nuzzling into the soft cotton t-shirt.

-

monday is particularly awful and you’re reminded exactly why you don’t drink often. two days on and you’re still exhausted, half-heartedly filling the shelves and just trying to make it to two o’clock.

in your tired state, one of the bottles of shampoo you were putting out, falls out of your hand and rolls off somewhere down the aisle. you sigh, a deep, fed-up, exhaustive sigh and get up to go and fetch it when the bottle appears before your face, a tattooed, ring-filled hand latched onto it.

‘carver? really?’ eddie frowns, watching you from above, eyebrows furrowed together.

you place the bottle onto it’s rightful spot on the shelf and choose to ignore him. if he’d come all the way down here just to piss you off about your poor life choices then he could get fucked.

‘when’d that happen?’

blanking him again as you continue to put stuff onto the shelves. this was the easiest way to guarantee that you weren’t going to get yourself fired for being rude to him.

‘you gonna ignore me? i just wanna know,’ still poking and prodding, he clearly wasn’t very good at picking up on context clues.

nothing.

‘fuck, can you just talk to me for five minutes?’ your silence was driving him crazy, aggravating him to no end.

‘i’m at work, so no,’ hurriedly trying to finish the stock you had so you had an excuse to rush out the back and away from him.

he was fortunate that it was a quiet monday, the store full of mostly older ladies who had no idea who he was. you sorta hoped that he’d get mobbed and would have to hurry off and leave you alone.

‘why jason? out of literally everyone else in this shithole you choose jason?’ screwing his face up in disgust.

you slam the box cutter down with a loud clatter, causing a few turned heads and raised eyebrows. fuck ‘em. if you had done what you’d really wanted to do, you’d be locked up forever.

‘i don’t know if you remember this but my boyfriend of like, two years ran away and never came home so yeah.. that kinda fucked with me a little and lucky for me, jason carver was there and also hated my ex’s guts.. so it was perfect, you know?’ staring flatly at him, you were not dealing with his shit today.

eddie scoffs, ‘so you had a kid with him? and now.. what? you play happy families just to spite me? is that it?’

‘yes eddie, i had a whole child just to piss you off.’

he gawps back at you, clearly also did not possess the ability to sense sarcasm.

‘no,’ scowling at him, ‘it was an accident and now he’s.. i dunno, coaching basketball at some school in ohio or some shit.. why don’t you go and bother him?’

‘so you’re not together?’

you can only roll your eyes in response, in sheer disbelief that he’d made such a fuss because he couldn’t just outright ask if you were single.

un-fucking-believable.

you’ve had just about enough of this conversation, pulling your little trolley back towards the swing doors that lead to the warehouse. at least he wasn’t allowed in there.

‘wait! wait..’ he grabs onto the other side of the trolley, stopping you from walking off, ‘have dinner with me tonight or.. tomorrow?’ eyes big and pleading.

‘now why would i do that?’

‘because i want to explain myself.. i need to.’

one of the younger shoppers notices who he is and begins trying to talk to him, coming over to where you two stood rather excitedly. eddie is kind enough to smile and give her a few polite words, eyes still latched onto yours despite the ecstatic woman beside him.

‘okay,’ honestly just wanting to get away from all this commotion, ‘tomorrow.’

his scowl subsides, replaced by a gleaming grin, ‘six o’clock.. pino’s, i’ll sort it, okay?’ already starting to walk away from the crazy woman.

‘right,’ you nod, pulling your trolley away and into the back warehouse, leaning against the concrete wall. the whole exchange was tiring, knocking whatever tiny bit of energy out of you.

were you actually gonna go?

absolutely fucking not.

-

by the time six rolls around the next night, you really had forgotten all about it. rushing to get ella her dinner after swimming lessons, already worrying about paying for yet another field trip she’d sprung on you earlier. you’d begun to wonder if they even taught in the classrooms anymore with the amount of permission slips she brought home.

she’s finally settled into bed, after much protesting and a lot of coaxing. you’re just about to finally relax on the couch when someone hammers on your front door. and if you weren’t already pissed off with ella’s whining, you were most definitely about to be with whichever mindless prick was banging on your door.

‘what do you want?’ you hiss, jerking the door open to reveal a pathetic looking eddie on the other side, face forlorn and dejected.

he’s in that white shirt again. it makes you sick to your stomach to admit that it really does look good on him. his arms now more defined, the cotton sticking to his muscles, briefly showcasing the new tattoos underneath. maybe he’d actually got off of his ass and did something other than smoke weed all day.

‘oh so you are alive, d’you forget about something?’ he’s snarling now, having conjured up some elaborate excuse in his head as to why you hadn’t showed, only to find you at home, seemingly with no care in the world.

‘oops,’ the corners of your mouth twitching into a smile, you hadn’t even actually meant to stand him up, you were just gonna call his hotel and cancel but the thought had just completely slipped your mind.

and even if it shouldn’t, it really did feel good. knowing he was the one sat waiting for you for once.

‘oops? i sat there for an hour waiting for you and then spent the last hour trying to convince dustin to give me your fucking address.. and all you can say is oops?’

you shrug, ‘feels pretty shitty to be forgotten about, doesn’t it?’ tilting your head, watching as his face falls. he’d been got.

‘okay.. okay, i get it, and i’m sorry.. there’s not a day that goes by that i don’t feel like shit for how i treated you,’ his head dips low, looking particularly sorry for himself.

and for a second you do too. not that he deserved it. quickly having to remind yourself exactly what he had done to you, which was not at all helped by the fact that he now had everything he’d ever wanted in life.

and you couldn’t fault your life. truly. but fuck did it sting sometimes, to know that your life had stagnated, stuck in the same shitty town you’d grown up in while he was on the other side of the country, more money than sense and a hoard of doting fans that would do absolutely anything he’d ask of them.

‘good,’ you bark, going to slam the door shut only for it to bang against his black boot wedged in the door, ‘if you don’t move your foot i’ll- i’ll call the police.’

‘no you won’t,’ his hand reaches out to grab onto the other side of the handle, he could’ve easily pushed his way in if he’d really wanted, ‘let’s talk.. like adults,’ begging you now, ‘please.’

you huff, this would end with you either letting him in or being forced to wake ella after you bashed his head into the doorframe. it was easier to just accept the first option and you’d find some bullshit to get him to leave later on.

opening the door wider to let him in, keeping your eyes square on the ground as he walks through, peering around at your home. probably comparing it to his mansion in the hollywood hills the pretentious fuck.

‘nice..’ he nods, leaning in to look at the photo of you and ella a few christmas’ ago, she was tiny then, sporting a miniature santa hat.

‘yeah well, she’s asleep upstairs so.. make it quick,’ you frown, closing the door behind him, watching as his eyes take in the cluttered room, smile fading when he catches sight of the singular picture you have up of jason and ella.

‘i can’t believe you chose to fuck jason of all people.. i mean, i’ve made some shitty decisions in my life but..’ he stops himself from going any further when he sees your face, if looks could kill, he’d be long gone by now.

‘did you come here for a reason? or are you here to talk about my life decisions.. because i really don’t want to hear it from you,’ crossing your arms over your chest, wanting him out of your house.

‘no.. no, shit- i’m sorry,’ he shuffles on his feet, banging his head, ‘i wanna talk.. properly.’

you roll your hand to motion for him to continue, ‘go on..’

he inhales, chewing on the inside of his cheek, trying to psyche himself up to actually say what he wanted to say. it wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say, he just couldn’t string it together to make sense.

‘i’m sorry for the way i treated you.. it wasn’t right and i know that now,’ his hand coming to rub the back of his clammy next, why was your house so fucking hot?

‘okay.. apology accepted, was that everything?’ you say flatly, glancing up the stairs to make sure ella wasn’t awake and out of her room.

his face falls, ‘can you just.. just let me explain,’ his adam apple bobbing as he swallows, ‘why don’t you sit down..’ motioning towards your ratty couch.

you relent your stern stature, hesitantly going to sit on the couch, trying to ensure that he couldn’t possibly sit next to you by sprawling your legs out onto the empty cushion. so he takes the seat furthest away, running his hands down his tight jeans. designer, no less.. the only person you knew stupid enough to spend thousands on designer jeans just to tear holes in them.

‘when i ended things with you, i wasn’t.. well, it was me, but i had my manager screaming in my ear that it’d never work and he could hook me up with some fuckin’ model.. it’d help the band.. so that’s what i did,’ and for once, he looked genuinely remorseful, fiddling with the loose threads on his expensive jeans.

‘so you sold out? that’s your excuse?’

his head shoots up, mouth hung open with absolute disgust all over his face, ‘i am not a sell out.’

which is incredibly refutable, you’d heard a snippet of one of their recent songs on the radio at work and it had sounded exactly like the commercial shit he used to rag on when you were together. not a touch on the corroded coffin you sat and watched practice for hours on end.

‘oh? so you didn’t break up with me to further your career? you just wanted to fuck hot models? which one is it ‘cause i’m a little confused here,’ completely losing it, springing up from your slouched position.

‘okay, yeah.. yeah i did, i broke up with you because i wanted to fuckin’ make something of my life.. and look at where i am and look at-,’

‘-don’t you dare finish that sentence,’ you snap, gritting your teeth together as you near his face, positively shaking with rage.

‘what’re you gonna do? you gonna hit me? do it,’ his chin tilted to match your elevated position, eyes glued to yours.

‘i should.’

his lips twitch into a smirk, ‘you won’t.’

and before your brain has the time to really process your next movements, he balls his fist into your t-shirt, causing your chest to collide into his as his lips smash into yours, knocking the air out of your lungs.

scrambling to find his shoulders for balance, sliding one hand onto his stubbly cheek. it’s all teeth and tongues, he’s ravenous and unrelenting, letting go of his grip on your shirt to place his hands on your hips, ‘move,’ mumbling against your lips as he attempts to manoeuvre you onto his lap while twisting around.

he slides down the couch, keeping a solid hold of your body as you find the right position. your legs are either side of his waist, sliding into the gap between his body and the couch sitting right on his crotch. wasting absolutely zero time in connecting your lips against, honestly not wanting to run the risk of him opening his mouth and ruining this.

his large hands find solace on your ass, creeping up to remove the oversized shirt you’d thrown on. you place your hand above his, restricting him from moving any further. it’s not that you were embarrassed- okay, maybe you were a little. but your body had changed since becoming a mom and eddie had become accustomed to gorgeous models and perfect women that he’d certainly not want to see your boring, frumpy mom body.

he groans in protest, trying again to lift the shirt further only for your fingernails to dig into his hand, ‘no,’ speaking into the filthy kiss.

eddie pulls away from the kiss, fingers coming to gently brush the hair from your face, ‘you can’t be serious? i’ve seen it all before,’ he grumbles, fingers itching to try lift it again.

‘not like this you haven’t.. i just.. want it on, okay?’

‘no- why won’t you let me take this off?’ fingers curling around the hem, already trying his luck with getting it up again.

you sigh, meeting his blown out eyes with your glossy ones, ‘i don’t even know what i’m doing.. fuck,’ attempting to climb off of his lap while the spare hand he has on your ass clamps you down, keeping you pressed to him.

‘hey.. hey, keep it on.. i don’t care,’ already trying to chase your lips, ‘i’m just saying, you don’t need to,’ the denim covering his growing erection starting to rub against your throbbing clit, the sparse material of your pajama shorts were not leaving much to the imagination.

‘jesus christ, just take it off,’ giving up in your protest, it was useless against eddie’s persistence.

you press your lips to his the second your shirt is off, there was no time to judge your body if he couldn’t see it. pulling at his jacket to get it off, the metal buttons digging into your now bare skin.

‘i didn’t.. i didn’t mean.. what i said..’ babbling through the kiss as he shimmies out of the jacket, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

‘shut up,’ you whine, running your hand along the length of his chest until you reach the hem of his black shirt, gripping your fingers around the fabric and lifting it slightly, exposing his midriff, the soft trail of hair ascending the skin.

his head jerks backwards, allowing you to tug the shirt off, finally allowing his eyes to wander to your chest. ‘holy shit,’ he remarks like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. it’s futile for him to pretend that he hadn’t seen some amazing boobs in his time so you scoff, rolling your eyes.

working your hand at his belt buckle, fiddling with the metal until it pops undone. he’s hard already and it makes you groan, brushing your hand over the raised denim. this week seriously must’ve been difficult if he was getting hard so easily over you.

it doesn’t ever occur to you how much of a mistake this was. and even if it did, you didn’t have much time to ponder on it as his hands are grabbing at your breasts, palming them as his lips suck at your jaw and down onto your neck softly. guaranteed to leave a lovely violet mark that the old ladies at work would certainly gasp at.

he’s helping you with his jeans, one hand gripping onto your waist to keep you steady as he lifts his hips from the couch and the other hurriedly yanking them down just enough to reveal his boxers. that’s the next port of call, fingers grabbing at the thin black cotton, pulling them down his thighs as his cock springs into action.

eddie’s lips are still on your neck while you mindlessly wrap your hand around his cock, pumping your fist as you shuffle upwards. his breath hitches in his throat, still peppering sloppy kisses to the sensitive skin.

‘oh god,’ he whines into your collarbone, feeling his eyelashes flutter against your jaw. for a man who had been painted as womaniser in the media, he sure was still just as pathetic as he used to be underneath you.

you’re a little annoyed that it’s you who’s taking control right now. after so many years of disrespect from his end, you think he at least owed it to you to take charge.

your hand grabs onto his shoulder, pulling his face from your neck, ‘be quiet, okay?’ sitting taller to position yourself comfortably, the harsh fabric of the couch grazing your knees.

he nods, sliding his hand up your waist and back to your hip, taking in the sight of you. you wouldn’t ever admit it aloud, but truthfully, you really did miss him sometimes. missed the way his pretty pink lips looked after being glued to yours or the way he gazed at you doing the most mundane tasks.

you cant your hips, sinking down onto his length slowly, biting down onto your bottom lip as his cock fills you to the hilt. his eyelids flicker, fingernails digging into your doughy hips. it’s been a little while since you’d done this so you have to take a second to become accustomed to the slight stretch. it’s good, in the most masochistic way.

your hands cling onto his shoulders, watching his slack jaw, tiny breaths escaping from his mouth as you attempt to move. painstakingly slow at first, knees beginning to shake as you try to remember what you should even be doing. your cheeks flushing, feeling so incredibly embarrassed. the man was fucking models and then you’re here, pitifully trying to ride him. it’s awful, you know it’s awful.

his arm comes to snake around your waist, taking matters into his own hands and flipping the two of you around, your back suddenly pressed into the couch. holy shit. you appreciate the initiative, wrapping your legs around his waist, readjusting your grip on his shoulders.

‘need you a little faster than that darling,’ large hands digging into the couch either side of your head. you’d feel utterly mortified if you weren’t thoroughly enjoying the sight of him looming over you, his hair falling beautifully into your face.

eddie starts slow at first, moving his hips slowly, obviously well versed. your mouth opens but no noise escapes, well aware that you weren’t the only ones in your house. instead you pant softly, desperate for his lips to grace yours again.

it’s not long before he’s quickening his pace, unable to contain himself when you feel so perfect around him. ‘i missed you- fuck, i’ve missed you so much,’ he groans, keeping his voice low despite wanting to start screaming.

you don’t reply, too fucked-out to even think about words. eyes drooping as his cock nudges against the soft spongy spot no one other than him had been able to reach.

the couch creaks beneath you, the old thing unable to keep up with his rutting hips, the top of your head knocking into the arm rest every time his hips collided with yours. your living room had never bore witness to such filth and as quiet as you were trying to be, the sounds are indistinguishable.

having to bite down onto your lip when his thumb meets your clit, legs tightening around his waist with every soft circle he draws around the sensitive bud. eddie was never bad in bed but holy shit, maybe money had done something right for him.

he sits up, soft sighs falling out of his lips as his hand disconnects from your clit, sliding toward your knee and positioning your leg onto his shoulder. your nails press into his forearm, willing yourself to stay quiet even now he’s seemingly trying to kill you.

and through it all, he’s smirking. relishing the way you’re writhing around, trying not to cum when he nudges against that sweet, spongy spot this position allowed.

his thumb finds your clit again, ‘holy shit sweetheart.. you gonna cum?’ grunting softly with every thrust.

you’re positively wrecked beneath him, face pressed into the couch cushion as your stomach flips. panting into the fabric, incoherent ramblings of eddie’s name and a bunch of curse words fill the room.

‘cum for me baby.. shit,’ struggling to keep his own pace as you tighten around him, leg trembling around his neck as your orgasm takes over. pleasure overtaking your limbs as your hips buck instinctively, thankfully muffled by the couch.

‘oh my god,’ you breathe, struggling to see straight when your eyes eventually reopen, gazing up at eddie above, certain he’s about to draw blood from his teeth digging in to his lip.

‘where.. where shall i- shit,’ he squeezes out, feeling his hips begin to stutter, eyes rolling to the back of his head. he’s just about quick enough to pull out, thick ropes of cum paint your thighs. narrowly avoiding the couch.

if you had the energy to get annoyed, you would’ve snapped, but in all honesty, your brain was still reeling and anger was the last thing you felt.

eddie reaches over, ever the gentleman and grabs his shirt to clean his mess. didn’t matter to him obviously, he had more than enough money to buy another.

and there it is. the bitterness filling your body again the second he’s no longer on top of you, or inside of you rather. you attempt to bite it down.

‘you wanna talk now?’ he asks, pulling his boxers back up to a more respectable position.

‘i’m tired eddie,’ and you are, on a school night like tonight you’d have been fast asleep by now.

he sighs, shoulders slumping over. even after you’d just had the most mind-altering sex, you couldn’t speak to him. ‘please,’ pleading with you almost, desperate for one more chance.

maybe it’s the exhaustion or maybe the dopamine still pumping through your brain but you concede, pulling your shirt back over your head before motioning for him to speak.

‘i don’t have any excuses, i’m just-,’ he sighs, turning on the couch to face you fully, ‘i’m sorry for hurting you, i was wrong and i know that,’ his eyes are dipped, peering at you from underneath his spindly lashes, ‘why d’you think i’ve avoided this place for so long?’

‘i don’t know? because you’re a pussy? because you’re too scared to face me?’ letting the words rattle off your tongue without much thought.

‘because i’m embarrassed,’ he corrects, without much offence, ‘because i’m ashamed and feel like i owe you more than some dick and a shitty apology.. i just didn’t know how i could ever make it up to you,’ half-moon eyes glossy in the low light.

your heart thumps in your chest, blood echoing through your ears. eddie munson, world renowned rockstar was sat on your couch, apologising for something you should’ve forgotten about a long time ago.

the years of hatred and avoidance come tumbling down in a millisecond. all you’d ever wanted was to hear him say sorry. to admit that he’d fucked you over for a life of fame and now you had it, you weren’t exactly sure what to even do with it.

‘okay.. now what? are you gonna make it up to me? because i want to believe you eddie, i do.. but you can’t just traipse in here and expect me to forgive you like that,’ the tears roll over, sliding down your warm cheeks.

he nods, grabbing onto your hands in a last ditch gesture to show his sincerity, ‘i’m going to.. i-i want to,’ he’s still nodding, bringing his face closer to yours, ‘tell me how, i’ll do anything,’ adam’s apple bobbing with every word.

‘stay here,’ your eyes are trained on him, ignoring the blurred vision, ‘not forever, just for now,’ lips pursed, ready to be broken once more.

you half-expect him to come out with some sorry excuse, tell you he had to get back to his hotel so he couldn’t possible stay here.

but he doesn’t.

eddie takes your hand, tugging it gently and with words you don’t register, babbles something about bed. so you follow him, allowing him to guide you to your room and slide in between the sheets next to you.

everything is so gentle, soft and pure. something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

-

‘hey.. sweetheart,’ eddie’s hand gently shakes your arm, whispering into your ear, ‘you awake?’

you squint in the dim light, feeling his hand descend onto your waist, chest pressed against your back, ‘i am now,’ you grumble, it was early.. early even by ella’s standards.

‘i gotta go.. you got work today?’ he asks, making no effort to actually get up and leave your bed though.

you nod into the pillow, rubbing your sleep heavy eyes. in your sleep hazed state, you shuffle, moving backwards against him.

‘okay.. shit- don’t do that,’ strained as you shift against him, unknowingly brushing against his cock, ‘i’ll be back.. after you..’ he’s losing it a little now, ‘after you finish..’ lips pressed to your ear.

you were moving deliberately now, just ever-so-slightly rocking your hips back and forth, you could feel him growing against your ass.

‘i can’t..’ he groans, grip tightening on your hip,

‘please,’ you breathe, reaching backwards to find his mop of curls, taking a fistful for leverage as his own hip’s thrust into your backside, his low growls only spurring you on.

you had been on your own for so long now, could he really blame you?

eddie doesn’t leave for another hour, creeping out of your house with his head low and a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

-

the key turns in your door as you’re loading the dishwasher. you’d given steve a spare for emergencies but it seemed to get used for anything but.

he slinks into the kitchen where you stand with your back to him, ‘hey,’ already knowing who it was.

‘well hello,’ announcing his presence, something about his tone of voice already seemed off, he sounded short, annoyed almost, ‘how have you been?’

‘i’m good..’ you spin to face him, puzzled by his strange demeanour, ‘how are you?’

he’s holding onto something behind his back but you can’t quite catch a glimpse, ‘actually.. i’m a little pissed off,’ you can tell he’s not completely serious by the hint of a smile on his face.

‘hmm? why’s that?’

he looks around the room expectedly, ‘oh i don’t know.. you don’t have anything to tell me, do you?’ shaking his head, still gripping onto this mystery object.

‘no..’ narrowing your eyes, determining whether he knew what you thought he knew.

he did, he one hundred percent did. holy fuck. he’d figured you out already. eddie had opened his big, stupid mouth and told dustin, who would’ve told steve and god knows who else. fucking moron.

‘no? soo..’ his pulls the magazine from behind his back, flipping it to the page he’d already saved, ‘this isn’t real then?’ shoving the glossy pages into your face, ‘because to me.. this looks an awful lot like eddie.. at this very house,’ he jabs his finger at the pixelated image, ‘and this little blob here.. that’s you, no?’

you’re utterly gobsmacked. mouth hung open in pure shock. because that most definitely was eddie.. and your house.. and you. you hadn’t seen anyone with a camera, hell, you hadn’t seen anyone on the street at all.

‘and correct me if i’m wrong, but is this not our friend eddie leaving your house the next morning?’ showing the next image of him leaving your house the day after, hair unruly and messed up, holding his denim jacket in his arms as he climbs into his car.

your mouth moves but no words come out, croaking as you struggle to meet steve’s eyes. completely speechless, there was no feasible excuse. you had been caught with your pants down. literally.

‘i can explain,’ waving your hands around while steve stands smug against the kitchen counter. ‘..no i can’t,’ shoulders slumped as you blink at your best friend, no you really couldn’t. suppose you could’ve come up with some lie about a look-a-like you’d been seeing but that would’ve made you look particularly strange.

‘were you ever gonna tell me?’ he’s almost hurt that you hadn’t ran to him to tell him immediately. this was true best friend gossip and you’d kept him from it.

‘i was! steve.. i don’t even know what happened- he came over to apologise and then we were arguing and then.. then we had sex and it’s not my fault..’ you’re trying, and failing, to contain your smile, flashing your cheeky grin to your best friend in the hopes he would let this slide.

‘i can’t believe you didn’t tell me!’ jutting his bottom lip out, ‘so, you’re getting back together?’ his eyes sceptical yet sparkling with a sense of hope. you’re grateful that all he seems to care about is the fact you lied. or actually, withheld the truth as you preferred it.

‘no.. well.. no, we had dinner together yesterday and he might’ve stayed over but no..’ shaking your head, ‘he’s leaving again soon and we both know what happened last time..’ you shrug, leaning back against the counter, ‘i guess i don’t hate him now, that’s good isn’t it?’

steve looks perplexed, ‘wait wait wait.. so you’re just.. screwing around? and then he leaves again, that’s it? what’s the point?’ taking a seat at the small kitchen table, fully engrossed in the conversation.

‘i dunno.. i guess that’s it?’ you hadn’t really thought about the fact that he’d be leaving again, in fact, you hadn’t really had time to think much at all about what was happening.

you’d just sort of acknowledged that at some point he’d go back to california and you’d stay here and whatever was happening would.. end? it wasn’t as if you were going to be super upset about it like you once were. lots of people fuck their ex’s.. this was fine.

because that’s what this is, right?

just sex with an ex?

‘that’s it?’ steve reiterates, looking completely flabbergasted that the woman who once left the room whenever eddie munson’s name was mentioned was now being so casual about this.

‘yeah,’ you shrug, not wanting to make a massive deal out of it though you could always rely on steve to be over dramatic on your behalf.

‘no,’ he straightens up in the chair, ‘all of this can’t be for nothing,’ sounding utterly exasperated, ‘you two obviously belong together so why don’t you go for it? i could see you living it up out in la.. big house, big car-,’

you cut him off before he can divulge into his delusions any further, ‘i think you’re getting ahead of yourself steve,’ shaking your head at his ludicrous attitude.

you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it once or twice but it seemed silly to start imagining this crazy life together after all these years. he’d barely just made it into your good graces again, you were hardly going to run off to california with him. it was utter delusion.

‘okay okay..’ he scoffs, ‘but i still think you need to talk to him. i don’t want you getting hurt again, okay? just make sure that you’re both on the same page,’ nodding as he stands from his seat and begins to rummage through your cupboards for something to eat.

he was probably right and you knew it deep down. you weren’t keen on being the one to bring the conversation up, not after that first night. after you had sobbed in his arms in bed, letting him soothe you to sleep with a bunch of probable empty promises.

-

when eddie lets himself into your house a few hours later, steve’s eyebrows fly up his forehead but he doesn’t say a word. instead, he nods at the man, keeping his opinions to himself.

the pair of you resemble an old married couple, except you’re the grumpy old man with your wife cuddled into your side. your wife being steve that is.

‘oh.. is this uh, something that happens often?’ eddie asks, settling into the empty chair across from you. slightly miffed that steve was nestled into your side.

‘yup,’ you nod, smiling at him your chin resting on steve’s head. he hadn’t a reason to be jealous, you’d really rather poke your eyeballs out with a fork than do anything remotely sexual with steve.

‘right.. yeah okay,’ eddie says, looking perplexed but sitting back in the chair. if he was going to stick around then this would have to be something that he got used to. because you sure as hell weren’t going to stop being so close with steve for the guy that broke your heart at eighteen.

‘you want a drink?’ you ask, realising that you should probably be a good host even if it was only eddie.

‘yeah sure.’

you untangle yourself from steve and trundle off into the kitchen. steve takes this as the perfect opportunity to grill eddie on his intentions, sitting up straight and making sure that you were really gone before beginning his interrogation.

‘so.. you two?’

eddie shrugs, not wanting to get into it with steve after such a long day.

steve sighs, leaning toward eddie, ‘i’m gonna say this once.. but if you hurt her again, i will kill you,’ staring the other man down. contempt in his eyes. he was dead serious too.

‘i’m not- i’m not gonna hurt her,’ eddie sits up, praying that you’d hurry back with this damn drink.

‘i mean it eddie,’ raising his eyebrows, ‘you didn’t see how she was after you left.. i’m not going through that again, i’m not letting her go through that again.’

‘steve-,’ eddie blinks, stopping himself as you re-enter the room. hoping that you hadn’t heard their conversation, he’d only just got you to stop hating him. he wasn’t prepared to go back to that like, ever.

‘what’re you talking about?’ placing the bottle of beer in front of eddie and collapsing back into your spot on the couch.

‘football,’ steve answers quickly, groaning as he pushes himself off of the sofa, ‘i’m gonna head home, got work in the morning but i’ll see you tomorrow,’ he smiles, winking at you from above.

‘okay,’ you utter, sounding more like a question than a statement, watching carefully as he gathers his things without so much as a glance at eddie. you can only imagine what was actually said but that was truly none of your business.

you’d just grill eddie later to make sure steve hasn’t been too much of an asshole.

‘byee,’ you call out behind him, already eyeing a sheepish eddie. this’d probably be it. you’d known it was coming at some point, you just weren’t sure of when.

if steve’s sudden departure was anything to go off, you were probably right.

the door clicks shut and you turn your attention to eddie who was still sat on the solemn chair. oh god. maybe you had got a little used to having him around again and now to know that it’d all be coming to an abrupt end once again.. yeah you felt a tad shit.

‘what’d you say?’ you ask outright, it made zero sense to beat around the bush.

‘me?’ he looks almost offended, ‘i didn’t say shit.. didn’t get the chance to,’ but he’s smiling ever so slightly and your heart relaxes.

christ you were so stupid. letting him back into your life just to let him walk away a second time. perhaps you’d done something horrific in a past life to deserve this same fate twice.

‘so what did he say?’ you press, unsure of if your even wanted the answer.

eddie sighs before coming to collapse on the couch next to you, ‘it wasn’t important.. look, i wanna be honest with you,’ his hand comes to grab yours and you freeze, bracing yourself for what was inevitably going to come next. ‘you mean a lot to me and.. and i don’t want you to think that i don’t care or that i’m just leaving you again,’ his eyes are focussed on yours, full of what you hope is sincerity.

you don’t reply, instead you nod slightly and urge him to continue. this was it. the kicker. 

‘i’ve gotta go back to la next week,’ his grip tightens around your hand, ‘but i’m coming back as soon as i can, okay?’ he’s serious too and you’d like to believe him but if the past was anything to go by, you weren’t eager.

you nod silently. fuck this. once again, you were sat before eddie munson, listening to his plans to jet off to la. it felt like the cruelest case of deja-vu. if anything, you want to kick yourself for even allowing him to wiggle his way back into your heart. most people know better after the first time.

‘it’s three weeks.. maybe a month, but i’m coming back, i promise,’ he pleads, hanging his head low. he knows there’s absolutely nothing he could say to you that would make you believe him but he had to try.

you hum, frowning just a little before finally replying, ‘i’ve heard that before,’ not meaning to sound as snarky as you did, but it was true.

‘i’m serious, i’m not.. not gonna lose you again, i’ve learnt my lesson,’ his eyes are big and pleading and you’re thrown right back to being eighteen, listening to him convince you how going to la would be the best decision.

‘so.. what? you’re gonna come back to hawkins just to see me? i don’t-,’ you sigh, as much as you wanted to believe him, it just wasn’t plausible in your mind, ‘i just don’t understand, are we together or are you just coming back to fuck? you don’t have to, you know? i’ve made peace with it all and i’m fine.. you don’t have to lie to me anymore.’

if anyone was going to fuck this up, it would be you. that’s for certain.

‘what the fuck?’ he exclaims, genuinely flabbergasted, ‘this is me telling you that i’m serious about this.. about you,’ he takes your hand into his properly, scooting around to face you fully, ‘i love being here with you, and ella and there is nothing out in la worth more than this,’ you think he might just start crying, or you might. or perhaps both of you.

you sniff, not wanting to speak in fear of bursting into hysterics. it was all just so confusing and weird. you’d grown accustomed to eddie being on the other side of the country and now suddenly he was back in your life with what seemed like a a declaration of love. it was just too much to handle. and maybe you blame yourself a little, for not truly thinking about the implications of fucking your ex that had abandoned you years prior. but now it all just seemed to be hurtling in the most intense direction.

you were the one that had told him to stay after all. because really, you could’ve kicked him out, refused to ever even acknowledge him again. but you hadn’t.

‘are you telling me the truth?’ is all that you manage to squeak out. baring resemblance to a small child.

you really must’ve looked pathetic, eyes brimming with tears, bottom lip quivering as you hold in the implosion of emotions. it’s always scary being vulnerable with someone, let alone someone that once meant so much to you.

he still did. as much as you’re absolutely petrified to admit it, he’d weaselled his way back into your heart and now here you are, a mess of emotions and perplexing feelings that are too complicated to handle.

‘i promise you,’ he sighs, clearly fed up of your whining, ‘i’m coming back this time.’

and maybe you’re stupid. maybe you’re still hung up on some high school relationship that ended long ago but you can’t help it, you nod.

idiotically believing him because what else can you do after letting him into your home and your heart again.

[theragethatisdesire]

aot men as dads - headcanon!! some 18+!!

includes: eren, jean, reiner, & levi

i'm still working on some full-fledged one-shots and parts of my series', but i'm nannying for the summer and have BABY FEVER. please enjoy my little headcanons of my fav aot men as dads <3

DISCLAIMER: some of this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

Eren

ok but eren is such a cringe dad lol

buys himself all of the #1 Dad! merch. he’s got mugs, tshirts, hats, all of it, and all of it went on his credit card.

10000% a girl dad. loves all the little dresses and bows; he puts your daughter’s hair in its first bun, nearly tears up when she points at his matching hairstyle and babbles “like da-da!”

you have to parent eren as much as the children. when you turn the corner into the living room where he’s supposed to be having “quiet time” with your toddler only to find that they’re buried in a pillow fort and eren’s signed his own name in crayon on the wall next to your daughter’s scribblings. “babe, we can just repaint it! she’s being creative.”

loves when you’re pregnant. after your first, eren keeps a calendar on the wall marking off the days until it’s safe for him to fuck you again, fuck a baby right back into you. already has a breeding kink before your first. develops a lactation kink after.

TERRIFIED (and i mean terrified) of hurting your little angel. has absolutely zero concept of “cry it out”; if he hears his baby crying, he’s sprinting into the next room, kissing a nonexistent boo-boo.

refuses to admit it but he has no backbone when it comes to your daughter wanting literally anything. she wants it, she gets it.

favorite thing in the world is matching outfits. favorite. “babe, where’s her green hoodie? i’m wearing mine today for the park!” “of course it matters, we have to match! on that note, where’s yours?”

lets your daughter use his hair to learn how to braid. usually has a few pink hair ties or glittery clips sticking out of it when you come home from a mom’s night out.

really big on your baby getting to see the world. drags you on vacation to any place he can think of, even as you try to explain to him that she can’t form any long term memories yet. “but baby, she’ll have pictures. how many kids in her class can bring a picture of them at the eiffel tower to their first show-and-tell?”

accidentally ruins santa and the tooth fairy for your daughter. cries harder than she does over it.

aggressively vets babysitters. ends up settling for a nursing student in the labor & delivery school who’s the oldest of seven children and probably more knowledgeable about child development than both of you combined, but he’s still suspicious.

wants to watch while you push, watch his baby come into the world. you’ve never seen a sweeter sight than eren in his scrubs, crying while holding your baby girl.

Jean

most people picture eren as being the roughhousing dad, but it’s jean, and i will die on this hill.

freaks out every time he drops your first boy while throwing him around like a ragdoll, but he’ll never stop because “listen!! he’s laughing!”. when it comes to the rest of them, he’s experienced enough now to tell the difference between a real booboo and an imagined one, and he simply brushes their little pants off caringly before shouting “now you tackle me!”

jean’s got no gender preference for your first, or the rest of your little brood for that matter. he raises them exactly the same, regardless: tough.

it takes him awhile to get used to the concept of babies’ minds. you’ve walked in on him having full-blown arguments with your shrieking toddlers several times. “what’s not making sense? if you let your goldfish ‘swim’ in the toilet, it dies, simple as that.”

plays “bad cop” for you because you’re terrible at it, but he’s always having to turn around and snicker into his elbow in the middle of scolding because your babies get the same little throbbing forehead vein as you when they’re mad

wants a big family, and gets it. you practically have to drag him to get his balls snipped after your fourth, him reminding you that “it’s reversible!” the entire way there.

the newborn phase is his favorite. he’s rarely home for any longer than ten minutes without scooping your most recent addition into his arms, squishing their little cheeks and marveling at their gurgling noises.

the kids never give him anxiety, but when you’re pregnant??? jean’s a wreck.

“do your feet still hurt, love?” “what do you mean you have indigestion? that could be the baby coming!” “of course we can’t have sex, what if we poke its little head?”

definitely the dad that’s got a delivery bag and a backup bag and an emergency third backup of the backup bag in his car at all times. the first week of your third trimester, he starts watching you suspiciously for any signs of labor, even though this is your fourth together. you think you’ve got it down by now, you tell him, but he won’t listen.

always gets the kids to work together on little surprises for you. every mother’s day they wake you up with breakfast, every valentines day your dining room table is covered in handmade cards, every birthday your kitchen is coated in flour from jean and four little ones attempting to bake

SO HARD to drag him out for a date night. he wants to bring them everywhere: the fancy restaurant, the couples' get away trip

jean's that dad standing in the bar, watching the game, beer in hand, with an occupied baby carrier strapped to his chest

wants to watch during delivery, but he passed out the first go-round, so now he’s content standing up by your head, trying not to turn white as you squeeze his hand hard enough to break.

talks you into just one more on your fourth’s second birthday. “they’re all so big now. don’t you miss it, babe? my baby in your belly? c’mon…” turns out he reversed that vasectomy without telling you

Reiner

another girl dad. hardcore girl dad.

buys his little princess all number of dresses and barbies, is confused when she’s more interested in the baseballs her classmates have.

accidentally raises the most tomboyish, toughest little girl. still babies her, and she hates it.

cries more than you do on your first date night out when you leave her with your mom. forgets to order his entree at the restaurant because he’s watching the baby monitor app on his phone.

definitely the best at splitting baby duties with you. reiner’s up before you most nights when she wakes, grabbing a bottle and cooing at her lovingly even as she screams. you always try to stay awake to watch him on the baby monitor, though, heart melting as his massive arms rock the tiny bundle back to sleep.

all the neighborhood kids love him because of his size. at every cookout, reiner can’t help on the grill because he’s buried in the grass in a little army of toddlers, led by your daughter, shrieking with joy.

always taking pictures. literally always. unflattering ones when you fall asleep breastfeeding, candids at the zoo, eighteen identical pictures of the lock of hair from her first haircut clogging up his camera roll.

can’t be the bad cop. literally ever. he just can’t say no to his little princess, can’t break her precious little heart by telling her that throwing her food onto the floor is bad.

takes your daughter to mommy & me classes with him

DILF DILF DILF. all the moms in the classes swoon over him and gossip about him when he’s not there; much to your annoyance, reiner never notices, insisting that they’re his “mommy friends”.

always sporting a little bit of glitter on his face or a sticker on his back from your daughter

coming from a fatherless background, reiner nearly kills himself trying to be a constant presence in your daughter’s life (you have to remind him that he has to rest too)

never misses an open house night at school, even if it nearly gets him fired. coaches all of her sports teams. literally almost cries when she makes her first soccer goal. actually does cry when she tells you the boy sitting beside her in class called her his girlfriend. full-blown breakdown on her first day of school, so bad he has to stay home from work.

the absolute BEST through your pregnancy and delivery. always cooking your craving of the week, constant foot and back rubs, stays up all night with you for the three days before the birth when you’re just too swollen and miserable to sleep.

holds your hand through the entire delivery, gets in the doctors’ way when they’re performing checkups because “i’m her father, i need to know what’s going on”

Levi

levi never pictured himself as having children, but when your little surprise arrives, blinking up at levi with his own grey, owlish eyes, levi can’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner.

very easily irritated with anyone asking questions about your home life.

when his coworkers ask for your newborn’s name, levi simply says “child.” are you two trying again? “why the fuck do you need to know?”

super overprotective. your baby waves at someone in the supermarket, and levi’s leaning down to explain (in words your eight-month-old can’t yet understand) stranger danger.

totally one of those parents that goes half-crazy trying to get their child into the top-notch, snobby preschool in town.

“we’re not wasting his intelligence on the public school”

levi grew up with basically nothing, so he goes all out buying the best baby products on the market. $2,500 strollers, researching “best baby toys for development”, the whole nine yards.

100% spends months trying to get your child to make a game out of picking up his own toys after playtime, but it never works.

has a meal plan for your child to “optimize nutrition” that you have to sneak around to give your baby little chocolates and junk snacks.

“why are there pringles in his playtime bag? they have no nutritional value.”

vets anyone that comes around your child, even other children. “no more playtime with that evan kid. he’s always got a cold or something.”

he’s always been a light sleeper, but once you have your child, levi snores beside them watching kids’ cartoons on the tv like you’ve never seen him, even drooling as his head lolls, arm tucked tight around your little one.

learned everything he could about labor and delivery beforehand

you almost killed him in the delivery room as he explained each medical detail of your labor symptoms to “reassure” you. he finally got the hint when you threatened to decapitate him.

he thinks it’s shameful, but watching you be a mother turns. him. on. 

wants to take you right there when he catches you breastfeeding, watches you read a bedtime story, spin your child around laughing. you’re just so naturally good at it and it makes him love you all the more, all that love going straight between his legs.

[stylesispunk]

'I love you, it's ruining my life'

Joel Miller x f! Reader

part ii

Summary: You get to spend your last night with Joel before he gets married to another woman.

w.c: 4k>

warning: angst, mentions of cheating. No proofreading, messy writing (possibly).

a/n: Well, hello. I wrote this because I had this idea in my head for a few days but now I don't feel like I completely wrote what I wanted. Nevertheless, here is it. Sorry if this is not my best work, but I wrote it in a rush and a part 2 could be possible. There's another fic I'm working on so I hope that's better than this one. Happy reading and I hope to have time soon to be back to writing 💌

dividers by @/saradika-graphics

Everyone around you could see it. The dilated pupils, the starry-eyed gaze, and the wide smile when you were with Joel. Everyone could see it, but Joel. You could also feel it, but it was forbidden. Being high over heels for your friend was almost a felony. Joel was your best friend, and he was getting married to another woman.

Your paths crossed the day you moved into your new house. The one next to his. You had gotten a glimpse of him a few times during your first days there. His messy hair and the crease between his eyebrows made him look in distress, running back and forth all the time, which made you want to know about him. A few days later, you learned from a neighbor that Joel was recently widowed with a small baby girl named Sarah, who had become his whole world. And you had gotten to meet him one day when he knocked at your doorstep, disheveled and with puffy eyes, carrying a crying baby girl tightly against his chest as if she were the most precious thing in the world, which, to him, she undoubtedly was.

"Hey, are you okay?" you asked softly, concern evident in your voice as you noticed the tear tracks on his cheeks.

Joel looked up, startled by the sound of your voice. His tired eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw a flicker of vulnerability before he composed himself. "Yeah, sorry, it's been a rough night. Sarah's been fussy, and I just..." His voice trailed off, and he glanced down at his daughter, then took a look at your clothes. You were wearing a strapless black dress, and when he glanced up at you, he almost got his air cut by your gorgeous face.

You were clearly getting ready to go out; after all, you were a young woman living next to his, and as far as he could tell, you were single.

“I’m sorry, you... You are leaving. I don’t know why I came here,” he said.

Without hesitation and ignoring Joel’s words, you reached out and gently rubbed the baby’s back, trying to soothe her. "Would you like to come in?" you offered, gesturing to the warmth and comfort of your home.

Joel hesitated for a moment, his gaze lingering on you, before he nodded gratefully. Stepping inside, he seemed to relax slightly, the tension in his shoulders easing as he sank into the nearest chair. You followed suit, sitting across from him and offering a sympathetic smile.

“I just came back home,” you said.

“What?” He asked dumbfoundedly.

“You said I was leaving. I’m not.” You smiled again, trying to contain the tinkle in your naked arms as you looked at the man in front of you.

"Oh,” he replied. "Oh," Joel repeated, his voice tinged with surprise as he processed your words. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze flickering between you and Sarah, who had quieted down in your presence.

After a moment of silence, Joel cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing slightly with embarrassment. "I, um, actually came here because... I need some help," he admitted quietly, his eyes avoiding yours.

You nodded, understanding dawning as you realized the weight of responsibility that Joel carried as a single parent. "Of course," you said softly, reaching out to place a reassuring hand on his arm. "I'd be happy to help however I can."

Joel let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding, relief washing over his tired features. "Thank you," he murmured, his gratitude evident in his voice. "I just... I don't know what I'm doing half the time, and Sarah... she deserves better."

Sarah.

You had learned the baby’s name was Sarah.

“My wife died during labor,” he confessed.

As Joel's words hung in the air, a heavy silence settled between you, punctuated only by the soft sounds of Sarah's breathing. Your heart ached for him, knowing the pain he must have endured losing his wife, especially under such tragic circumstances.

"I'm so sorry, Joel," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "I can't even imagine what you've been through."

Joel nodded, his expression haunted as he stared off into the distance. "It's been... it's been the hardest thing I've ever had to face," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "But Sarah... she's been my anchor. My reason to keep going." He paused for a moment. “That’s why I’m asking you if you can help me take care of her just for tonight. I just have this thing with my brother, and I found out you’re a teacher, so I suppose you’re good with kids.”

“Wait…how… How do you know I’m a teacher?”

Joel blinked, caught off guard by your question. He hesitated for a moment before his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "Oh, uh, well... I may have asked around the neighborhood," he admitted sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck.

You couldn't help but chuckle at his response, finding his awkwardness endearing. "I see," you said with a playful smile. "Well, you're right. I am a teacher. And I'd be more than happy to help take care of Sarah tonight."

Relief washed over Joel's features, and he let out a sigh of gratitude. "Thank you, really. I wouldn't ask if it weren't important," he said earnestly, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of appreciation and vulnerability.

You nodded, understanding his need for support and reassurance, especially during such a challenging time. "Don't worry about it," you said softly, offering him a reassuring smile. "Sarah will be in good hands with me."

With that settled, Joel visibly relaxed, his shoulders sagging with relief. "Thank you," he repeated, his voice filled with gratitude. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Since that day, you and Joel have become thick as thieves, and consequently, you have become Sarah’s best friend. The three of you became inseparable, sharing laughter and tears as you were there for each other through the ups and downs of life. Whether it was late-night diaper changes or spontaneous dance parties in the living room, you cherished every moment spent with both of them.

As Sarah grew older, she became not only Joel's whole world but yours as well. You watched with pride as she took her first steps, spoke her first words, and grew into a bright, curious toddler. And through it all, you were there by her side, offering guidance, love, and endless patience.

But amidst the joy and laughter, there was a bittersweet longing lingering in the air—a longing for something more, something you knew could never be. You buried your feelings deep within your heart, knowing that to act on them would only bring pain and heartache to those you loved most.

Of course you had dated; you went on dates, but they never worked out. No one was Joel, so you kept burying your love for him. You caught yourself in a complex web of emotion with that lingering ache for something more. What could have happened if you had talked before? But as much as you tried to bury your feelings for Joel, they remained a constant presence, a silent companion that followed you wherever you went.

And now, watching as Joel prepared for his upcoming wedding, the realization of his happiness with another woman cutting through you like a knife. Each detail of the ceremony seemed to magnify the distance between you, reminding you of the forbidden nature of your feelings.

Tess was a lovely woman, yet she didn’t completely like the idea that you and her soon-to-be husband were so close. Perhaps she sensed the depth of your connection with Joel, or maybe she simply felt threatened by the strong relationship you had forged with him and his daughter.

You tried your best to reassure Tess, to show her that your intentions were pure—that you were simply there to support Joel and Sarah in any way you could. But despite your efforts, there remained an underlying tension between you, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken feelings that lingered beneath the surface.

However, you knew that after the wedding, you and Joel would grow apart, and you already had a plan to bear with the solace that would cause you.

“I’m so glad you’re here with me tonight." Joel gushed, bringing his wine glass to his lips. “It feels like when Sarah fell asleep and stayed late talking.”

You nodded, plastering a smile on your face. It had taken a lot of work to become this good at faking it. You had conditioned yourself to smile at Joel and respond to his questions with excitement, as your insides felt like they were tearing apart from the thought of these being the last hours of Joel being single. But you didn’t have a choice.

Almost eight years of friendship had taken a toll on you. That was a lot of time to reconsider your feelings and come back with a new perspective, but you were just burying your feelings as you always do. You didn’t want to ruin Joel’s chance of happiness, and as soon as tomorrow arrived, you would play your role and then be out of his life.

“Are you excited?” Joel asked you.

“For you?” you asked, bringing your wine glass to your lips. “Of course,” you plastered your best smile at him, even though it didn’t reach your eyes.

Joel smiled back at you, tossing himself on the sofa, his hand over his chest as he breathed in and out rhythmically, watching as you stared at your glass of wine with a lost gaze.

“What do you want to do?” He asked, only watching you shrug.

“Don’t know.” You mumbled, eyebrows furrowed in thought. Joel only hummed in response, looking around his living room before his eyes settled on the record player across the room, his eyes widening in excitement.

“Hun.”

“Don’t call me that.” You mumbled, directing your gaze at him. You were just waiting to drift off to sleep.

“Do you remember our parties?”

Your eyes opened to look at Joel trying to piece together what he wanted to do. “I do, why?”

Without another word, Joel stood up and walked across the room to his record player, standing there with a tin of dust. Trying to look for the perfect disc and allow the melody to sweep through the house.

After his silence, you closed your eyes once again, just to abruptly open them to the familiar melody of the song playing through the house.

Out of touch, out of reach, yeah

You could try to get closer to me.

I’m in love; I’m in deep, yeah.

Hypnotized, I’m shaking to my knees.

Without a warning, Joel shot across the room to you, raising his hand for you to take it.

“What are you doing?” You questioned.

You felt a rush of panic surge through you as Joel approached, his outstretched hand beckoning you to join him. Your heart raced, torn between the desire to escape the moment and the temptation to give in to the pull of the music and Joel's presence.

"I... I don't know, Joel," you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper as you hesitated to take his hand. Every fiber of your being screamed at you to resist, to maintain the boundaries you had carefully erected between you and Joel. But as his warm gaze met yours, a flicker of something unfamiliar sparked within you—a longing, a yearning for something more.

Joel's expression softened, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. "Come on," he urged gently, his voice low and soothing. "Let's dance, just like old times."

Despite your better judgment, you found yourself relenting, allowing Joel to pull you to your feet and into his arms. As the music enveloped you both, you were transported back to a time when laughter and joy filled the air, when the weight of unspoken feelings had yet to cast its shadow over your friendship.

For a moment, you allowed yourself to lose yourself in the rhythm of the music and in the warmth of Joel's embrace. But even as you swayed together in the dim light of his living room, you couldn't shake the nagging sense of unease that tugged at the corners of your mind. You felt a lump form in your throat.

"I'm going to miss this, you know? Our late-night dance parties, just the two of us." You whispered.

“I’m not dying,” he replied, humored.

You pulled back to look at his face for a moment, finding the words you wanted to say. “I know, but it will be different.”

You found the same easy smile and the same playful glint that had always been there, masking the deeper emotions that lay beneath.

"I know," Joel replied, his voice softening as he squeezed your hand gently. "Things are going to be different after tomorrow. But no matter what happens, you'll always be my best friend; you know that, right?"

His words struck a chord within you, stirring a mix of emotions that you struggled to put into words. Part of you wanted to cling to Joel's reassurance, to hold onto the comfort of his friendship, even as the world around you shifted and changed. But another part of you couldn't help but wonder what tomorrow would bring and whether things would ever truly be the same between you and Joel again.

"Yeah," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the music. "I know."

And as you continued to dance together in the dim light of Joel's living room, you couldn't help but wonder. What would happen after tomorrow?

You allowed yourself to inhale his perfume as you placed your head on his shoulder, containing the tears that threatened to spill.

There was silence.

“Have you ever been in love?” He asked.

As Joel's question hung in the air, the weight of its implications settled over you like a heavy fog. You lifted your head from his shoulder, meeting his gaze with a mixture of surprise and uncertainty. His eyes searched yours, holding a depth of curiosity and vulnerability that you hadn't expected.

"Have you ever been in love before?" He asked, his voice soft and earnest, as if he were searching for something in your answer, something beyond mere words.

You felt a lump form in your throat, the truth of your feelings threatening to spill out despite your best efforts to contain them. But you couldn't bring yourself to lie to Joel—not now, not when the walls you had built around your heart felt so fragile and precarious.

"Yes," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper as you spoke the words that had long been buried deep within you. "Yes, I have."

Joel's expression softened, and his heart exploded at the tiny thought of being the one you loved. “And... is it someone I know?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of apprehension.

You hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal and how much to lay bare before him. But in the end, you couldn't deny him the truth, and you couldn't deny yourself the chance to finally speak the words that had remained unspoken for so long.

"Maybe,” you replied, your voice trembling slightly as you met Joel's gaze with a mixture of vulnerability and longing.

As the song ended, the room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of your confession lingering in the air like a palpable presence. You and Joel stood there, locked in a moment of uncertainty, each grappling with the implications of your words.

Joel's gaze searched yours, his eyes filled with a myriad of emotions—surprise, confusion, and perhaps a glimmer of hope. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came out, his thoughts seemingly tangled in a web of conflicting feelings.

“Wait, you have to tell me so you can be the next one to get married?” Your heart skipped a beat at Joel's attempt to lighten the mood, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite the gravity of this situation inside you.

“I can’t.”

“Why? Any man would love to be with someone like you.” he encouraged.

“I can’t because that man is getting married tomorrow.” That's it. You had confessed your feelings for him.

A heavy silence settled between you, punctuated only by the weight of your confession hanging in the air. You could see the flicker of realization cross Joel's features, his eyes widening slightly as he processed your words.

The warmth that had filled the room seemed to dissipate, replaced by a palpable tension that wrapped around you both like a suffocating blanket. You watched as Joel's expression shifted, a myriad of emotions playing across his features—shock, disbelief, and perhaps a hint of sadness.

"I... I don't know what to say," Joel finally murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to find the right words. "I didn't realize... I mean, I never thought..."

His voice trailed off, and he looked away, his gaze fixating on a spot on the floor as he wrestled with his thoughts. You could feel the weight of his confusion and uncertainty pressing down on you—a heavy burden that threatened to crush you beneath its weight.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, the words barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "I didn't mean to... I never meant for things to get this complicated."

Joel shook his head; his expression hurt as he finally met your gaze once more. "No, it's not your fault," he said softly. "I just...”

You nodded in understanding, knowing that this revelation had changed everything between you, perhaps irreparably so. But even as the reality of the situation sank in, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief at finally speaking the truth, no matter how painful it may be.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" Joel's question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of years of unspoken emotions.

You swallowed hard, struggling to find the right words to explain the complexities of your feelings. "I... I didn't know how," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I was afraid of ruining our friendship, of losing you altogether."

Joel's expression softened, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek as he listened intently. "You could never lose me," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "You're my best friend, and nothing could ever change that."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of Joel's understanding and compassion. "I know," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. "But I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, even if it meant keeping my feelings hidden."

“And you had to wait all these years just to tell me the night before I got married!” He raised his voice; he had never done it before.

Your heart clenched at Joel's raised voice, the rawness of his emotions cutting through you like a knife. "I know, I'm sorry," you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to maintain your composure. "I should have told you sooner; I should have been honest with you from the beginning."

Joel's expression softened at your words, regret flickering in his eyes as he reached out to gently cup your face in his hands. "I'm not mad," he said softly, his voice filled with tenderness. "I'm just... I'm just surprised, that's all. I never knew."

His words trailed off, and you could see the turmoil churning beneath the surface, the weight of his impending marriage bearing down on him like a heavy burden. You reached out, tentatively placing your hand over his as you searched for the right words to ease his pain.

As the weight of your shared emotions hung heavily in the air, you and Joel sat in a charged silence, stealing glances at each other as if trying to decipher the unspoken words lingering between you. There was tension, a magnetic pull drawing you closer, and neither of you could resist its irresistible force.

With a trembling breath, you meet his eyes, knowing this would be the last time you would be this close to him.

His eyes also met yours, filled with a mixture of longing and uncertainty, mirroring the tumultuous emotions swirling within your own heart. And then, in a moment that felt both inevitable and electrifying, Joel closed the gap between you, his lips meeting yours in a tender, achingly sweet kiss. It was a kiss filled with years of unspoken desires and unacknowledged feelings, a silent confession of the love that had always lingered just beneath the surface.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you melted into each other's embrace, the world falling away to leave only the two of you, lost in the swirling tide of emotions that threatened to consume you both.

As Joel deepened the kiss, his phone suddenly rang, breaking the spell of the moment and pulling you both back to reality with a jolt. You reluctantly pulled away from each other, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you tried to compose yourselves.

Joel's hand instinctively went to his pocket, retrieving his phone with a mixture of frustration and resignation. He glanced at the caller ID, his brow furrowing in confusion as he recognized the name flashing on the screen.

"It's Tess," he murmured, his voice tinged with apprehension as he answered the call. "Hey, Tess, what's up?"

You watched as Joel listened intently to the voice on the other end of the line, his expression growing increasingly tense with each passing moment. Your heart sank as you realized the gravity of the conversation unfolding before you, the weight of Joel's impending marriage casting a shadow over the fragile intimacy you had shared just moments before.

After what felt like an eternity, Joel finally ended the call, his hand trembling slightly as he lowered his phone. He turned to look at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and longing.

"I have to go," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Tess needs me."

You nodded, your heart heavy with disappointment and resignation. "I understand," you replied, forcing a small smile despite the ache in your chest.

And with that, Joel gathered his things and made his way to the door.

“Joel.”

He stopped on his tracks by the door, looking at you without being able to look you in the eyes.

Joel's steps faltered at your words, his hand pausing on the doorknob as he turned to face you once more. His eyes searched yours, filled with a mixture of confusion and concern.

“I’m not coming tomorrow,” you said.

"What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to comprehend the significance of your statement.

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage as you met his gaze head-on. "I mean, I can't be there tomorrow," you repeated, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling within you. “Not after this, so I’m going back to my house and I’ll move to New York just as I planned.”

“What?” Joel's voice wavered with disbelief, his eyes widening in shock at your words. He took a step closer to you, his expression pleading as if hoping you would take back what you had just said.

"Please, don't do this," he urged, his voice filled with desperation. "You can't just leave like this, not after everything that's happened between us."

You felt a pang of guilt at the anguish in Joel's voice, the weight of his words bearing down on you like a heavy burden. But you knew that staying would only prolong the inevitable, dragging out the pain and heartache for both of you.

"I have to," you said softly, your voice tinged with sorrow. "I can't stay here and watch you marry someone else, knowing how I feel about you. It's too much, Joel. I need to go."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you spoke, the ache in your chest growing heavier with each passing moment. But despite the pain, you knew deep down that leaving was the only option, the only way to protect your heart from further damage.

Joel reached out to you, his hand hovering in the air as if unsure whether to touch you. "Please, don't go," he pleaded, his voice breaking with emotion. "I... I need you here with me."

You met his gaze, the intensity of his words washing over you like a wave. But as much as you longed to stay, you knew that leaving was the only way forward, the only way to find peace and healing for your shattered heart.

"I'm sorry, Joel," you whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks as you turned away from him. "But you just kiss me, and I feel sick because you cheated, and I won’t be the other woman.”

Joel's shoulders slumped, and his face contorted with anguish as he realized the depth of his mistake. "Please, don't leave," he pleaded, taking a step closer to you. "I'll call off the wedding; I'll do whatever it takes to make things right. Just please, don't go."

“Do you even love me to do that?” you asked,

Joel's eyes widened at your question, his expression filled with a mixture of shock and desperation. He opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out, his thoughts seemingly tangled in a web of conflicting emotions.

The silence was defeating, and your heart sank at his response, the uncertainty in his words cutting through you like a knife. You had hoped for reassurance, for a declaration of love that would make everything right again, but instead, you were met with doubt and confusion.

And with that, you gathered your things and made your way to the door, leaving Joel standing alone in his living room, his heart breaking with every step you took away from him.

"You'll marry Tess, and I'll leave," you said, your voice barely above a whisper as you disappeared from his sight.

The words echoed in Joel's mind long after you had gone. At that moment, Joel knew that he had to make a choice—one that would determine the course of his future and the fate of his heart. But as he sat alone in the silence of his living room, the weight of that decision felt heavier than ever before.

[pseudowho]

Debellatio

You ask Nanami Kento to help you and Higuruma Hiromi on a mission, after the events of In Flagrante Delicto (link here); you find yourself at the mercy of both men after they are struck by the aphrodisiac Curse.

An introduction to Greynami from my Post-Shibuya!AU Nanami; see Grey and Post-Shibuya AU!Nanami Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, another sex pollen fic because I'm utterly depraved and godless, threesome, I don't like to ruin surprises

(help me find the Higuruma artist in the banner, for crediting and thanks/permission!)

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"Kento. We're friends...right?"

Nanami Kento's one good eye narrowed at you, you, sat so surreptitiously on the arm of the sofa in the coffee shop you had asked to meet him at. Kento briefly considered lowering his newspaper, but decided he'd wait to see what you wanted, first. No longer working for Jujutsu High after the Shibuya incident, he did, however, stay in contact with you, one of his favourite colleagues.

"Friends?" he teased, "I don't have friends." You pouted, slapping his arm lightly, and he  continued, "Alright...what is it you want?"

You scooted next to him on the sofa, emboldened by his invitation; "It's Hiromi," you said, already desperate, almost begging.

Already on first name terms, Kento thought, a light jealousy twisting in his gut, having thought he and you always had potential together. "Higuruma?" he pressed, scarred face neutral. You nodded.

"I released him to the wild," you stated, filling Kento in, "I don't think he was ready, but he was insistent, he's been out on his own for a while now...anyway, he seems to have been alright. Alone."

You did not tell Kento how Hiromi Higuruma had spent every night over the past week in your bed, spurred on initially by an aphrodisiac Curse he had failed to exorcise. You had not told anyone at Jujutsu High, in fact. How would you tell them that you and Hiromi were...what? Colleagues with benefits? On an uncertain path towards boyfriend and girlfriend? Pleasuring each other blind every day and night, lost in each others' minds and bodies? You almost blushed, aware your underwear was damp with the seed he had left inside you just that morning.

Kento raised one thin eyebrow at your pause, imploring you to continue. You took a deep breath.

"There's a mission tomorrow, and they want to send more than one First Grade, they think it's big, apparently. They chose Hiromi, and me. But I've worked with him, and he's...he's..." you trailed off, searching for the words. Kento helped.

"Difficult? Doesn't play well with others?" he offered lightly. You nodded, hands clasped in your lap.

"Can you come with us? Just as a buffer. We won't even need you I don't think, just..." you tailed off again, hoping Kento agreed.

That familiar jealousy burned in Kento's gut again. 'We'. 'Won't even need you'. Kento kicked himself mentally, wondering if he'd left it too late to ask you out to dinner, to make his move, wondering if Higuruma of all people had showed up and pipped him to the post. His jaw clenched as he put down his newspaper, giving you a gentle reassuring smile. Of course he agreed.

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"Why is he here?" Hiromi pressed you, rolling his gavel between his hands in irritation. Nanami Kento stood a few feet away from you and Hiromi, catching up with Ijichi while the veil was prepared around a derelict shopping centre, held together by ivy and abandoned "SALE!" banners.

"Just for back-up, Hiromi. Anyway, I haven't seen him in ages. You'll be friends in no time, I'm sure of it," you cooed.

Hiromi bristled. He had heard you speak fondly of this...this...sexy pirate, Nanami Kento, and in these early, brittle stages of your relationship together, Hiromi couldn't help but feel threatened by this imposing figure of a man. Allowing himself a moment of fragile masculinity, he shook it off, reminding himself that you weren't a competition.

But that if you were, you'd chosen Hiromi and he had won anyway.

Kento smiled fondly at Ijichi, gripping his hand in a friendly squeeze, before heading over to you and Hiromi, the veil descending below him in an oily drip down an invisible dome. Kento's face remained neutral as he approached, he and Hiromi reading each other, both shrewd, calculating. You swallowed at the palpable tension, before trying to bridge the gap with a reassuring smile to them both. Kento spoke first.

"The electricity's back on, so we're not operating in the dark. We should introduce ourselves. Nanami Kento," he said shortly, offering a brief bow, his gaze piercing into Hiromi even through an eye patch, it seemed.

"Higuruma Hiromi," he offered, "I've been told you're just here as..."

"...insurance," Kento finished coolly, "as you're rather...new to this." Hiromi felt another pang of irritation, smiling tightly at Kento.

Kento turned to you, giving you a smile so warm and sincere that it cracked through his icy demeanour. When you smiled back, Hiromi gritted his teeth, reminding himself again to behave. Eyes now on you, he threaded his fingers through yours, tapping your joined hands against his thigh in an act of affection and possession.

"Come on then, my love. We'll lead the way, shall we?" Hiromi pulled you ahead of Kento as a pair, and Kento glowered silently at your backs as he followed you into the building.

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"Have you read The Day of the Triffids?" you mused aloud to Hiromi and Kento, running your hand along the network of enormous vines, some as thick as your thigh, clinging along the inner walls of the building. A hazy mist had settled within the confines of the corridors, dewy and tropical in the summer humidity of central Tokyo. Exotic and otherworldly flora popped in bursts of colour from the ceiling and floor as the corridor curved away from you.

Hiromi and Kento both confirmed immediately, competitive, flashing each other furious glances. You were oblivious, examining the tendrils and flowers in glittery-eyed fascination. Hiromi and Kento stewed, both hovering close to you, irritated by the invasion of each others' space.

"We should go deeper into the building," Hiromi stated, confident, tapping his gavel against his adjacent palm, "the main Curse body is probably hiding centrally." Kento cleared his throat, imitating politeness as he disagreed.

"Many of these Curses linger on the edges, like spiders in webs. It would be more thorough to scout inwards from the edges, first."

"Well that sounds pretty inefficient seeing as we know--"

"--well we don't know, you're just assuming--"

"--based on experience, I think--"

"--oh yes, and what experience would that be?" Kento finished, curt, brittle. He turned to you, shoulders clenched in a taut line under the clipped corners of his suit. Hiromi spun to catch your eye, anger burning low at Kento's interference. Both beseeched you, seethingly, to agree with them.

You blushed under their stares, feeling their Cursed energy rising, competing, and gulped, feeling naked and exposed.

"I think," you started slowly, "that both options are as viable as the other," both Kento and Hiromi huffed air out of their noses, lips curled in annoyance, "and so you two should decide between you."

"Either way," you continued, the air thick with tension, "we have to go this way to get to the rest of the building anyway. It will give you two time to make a decision, and maybe learn to get along?" Both men bristled at your gentle chastisement, facing each other, chins out, teeth gritted.

You continued behind Hiromi and Kento along the corridor, watching with mute horror, as conversation escalated into debate, descended into argument, spiralled into insults--

"Well you're apparently so smart," spat Kento at Hiromi, "that I probably should let you decide, even if you find out the hard way, but you're not dragging her into danger too, so--"

"--sorry we can't all muscle our way through our problems, Nanami, she probably should stay with the brains of the group, so--"

"--she's coming with me!" Their voices rang through the corridor in tandem, and you shouted in warning, as they both tripped, distracted, their legs tangling in a flower-covered vine, like trip wire across the floor.

A puff of yellow pollen shot up from the flowers, clouding Kento and Hiromi in a clinging haze. They coughed, sneezing, staggering backwards out of the cloud. Kento cleared his eye with a swift wipe, looking down at himself, surveying the damage.

But, Hiromi spun to face you, barely disguised panic in his eyes; "Shit. Shit. Not again--"

Your jaw dropped, appalled; "Again? Hiromi? Was this-- is this--"

Hiromi groaned, and leaned heavily, shivering against the wall as the pollen seeped through his pores, the yellow fading as it sunk into Hiromi's bloodstream. Kento's back was to you, but dread crept into your belly, low and hot, as you saw his shoulders roll and shudder, his scarred hand clasped over his mouth as his chin dipped towards the floor.

As both Hiromi and Kento turned slowly to look at you, hunger glowing in their eyes, you began to take tentative steps backwards, your speed gradually increasing as you spun, quickly building into a full sprint back down the corridor.

Kento was burning from the inside out; every nerve was on fire with desperate arousal, his cock rapidly hardening in the confines of his slim suit trousers, and he knew in furious desperation that if he didn't pin you down and ram every inch of himself into you, that he would surely perish in these sordid flames, and--

As Kento's legs bent with intent to hunt you down the corridor, he felt slim fingers grip around the front of his throat, Hiromi stepping into his vision, clearly suffering just as he was, but determined and steely, hooded eyes smouldering with threat.

"Not my girl, Nanami," Hiromi spat, squeezing the sides of Kento's thick throat with surprising force. Kento chuckled, full of dark mirth as he gripped Hiromi by the wrist, twisting it away from him; Hiromi held fast, hand shaking with exertion.

"You were the back-up, Higuruma," Kento rumbled, smirking, judgement clouded by wild, throbbing need, "so back off. Daddy's home now." Kento swept Hiromi's legs from under him, elbowing him to the ground, before leaping over his scrabbling form and stalking down the corridor, with surprising grace for such a big man.

Hiromi was on Kento in seconds, spinning him into a resounding thud against the wall, and Kento roared in frustration, as the two continued to scrap along the corridor, concrete cracking under their feet and shoulders as they bodied each other into the walls, trying to gain the upper hand.

You had reached the end of the corridor, the stairs blocked with a bawdry tangle of prickles and vines. You scanned the corridor, spotting a lift to the right, and you ripped fine vines away from its entrance, pressing the lift's button in a frantic panic, hearing the roars and crashes of Kento and Hiromi moving down the corridor towards you.

You had a moment of dread, fearful that the lift was now inoperable, before a tinny little ping announced the lift's arrival. Clambering over vines and into the lift, you saw a puff and crumble of rubble down the corridor as Kento was thrown into a wall, the ceiling partly collapsing above him.

You pressed the button again, again, again, your heart thick in your throat. You saw Hiromi round the corridor, zigzagging across jigsaws of vines, eyes intently on you.

As the doors grinded closed, Kento and Hiromi descended upon them, still scrapping, bloody, fighting with mindless desperation and rage. The lift stayed still, halted by your own paralysis as you caught their eyes through the glass, both begging you to let them in.

You swallowed, your belly hot with anticipation, wanting to help but utterly incapable of accepting the only means by which you could help. You mouthed wordlessly at Hiromi and Kento. You pressed a shaking finger to the lift's 'down' button, and Hiromi swiftly countered by pressing the button outside the lift doors. The lift pinged, juddered, stopped, started, indecisive, torn.

You were at a stalemate. You ran your hands through your hair.

"I can't...I can't help both of you," you cried, turning to look at Nanami, eyes brimming with apology as he rested his forehead against his fist, breathing out in a shaking moan.

"Kento, I...Hiromi and I, we..." Kento thumped his fist against the outside of the lift, the lift trembling at his strength.

"You choose him?" Kento spat, feeling precum leak down his thigh in a constant damp stream. He coughed, arousal burning through his throat, and reached down to squeeze his cock, desperate for relief, moaning softly as he bit into his fist.

"You'll-- you'll help me, though?" Hiromi urged, hopeful and throbbing, palms and forehead pressed flat to the glass of the lift, eyelids heavy and breaths hot and urgent. You swallowed, considering your promise to always help Hiromi, and nodded slowly, swallowing, memories of how desperately he took you the first time sweeping through you, your clit aching and pussy clenching around nothing.

"Open the door. Please, please, open the door," Hiromi whispered in prayer. Kento accepted, sickly, that you had made your decision, still certain he may die without relief. The pollen pulsed through him, toxic and ruinous, and he felt his vision fade into animalistic shades of black, white and red.

"I can-- I-- just let me watch," Kento forced out, begging through clenched teeth. You hesitated, eyes flicking towards Hiromi in question. Hiromi scowled, lips curled in distaste.

"Watch, don't watch-- I don't give a fuck. But I'll have your head if you lay a finger on her."

Kento snarled, lips pulled taut against his teeth-- but nodded his agreement. Your hand lowered, hesitantly retracting from the button as Hiromi calmly pushed the 'open' button from the outside, eyes burning into you with unholy intent.

As the door opened, Hiromi stepped to you, trembling with restraint, fists clenching and unclenching as he urged you backwards, caging you in against the wall with outstretched arms. Not breaking eye contact, he reached down to grab one of your hands, pressing it hard against his straining erection with a low groan, eyes closed against the enormity of the tiny relief and the promise of more to come.

Keeping your hand pressed against him, rutting into your open palm, Hiromi dipped his mouth to your neck, taking your skin between his lips in a deep, bruising lovebite.

"You know how this works," he intoned, low and slow, licking your neck as he rubbed your hand on the outline of his rigid cock, "and I know you can take it." You hesitated as Kento moved slowly into the lift space, the doors closing behind him. His eye shot daggers through you, the burned side of his face twisted in agony, until his gaze flicked downwards, staring hungrily at where Hiromi rutted his cock into your open hand. Kento's tongue darted out to lick his lips, his hand sinking slowly to undo his own belt.

As Hiromi continued to devour your neck, moaning with abandon as he pressed closer to you, humping his weeping clothed cock against your body, you felt your own inhibition fade curiously away. Your trepidation was slowly being overtaken, being seeded and overgrown by a burning hunger. You took a gasping breath, high off your own desire, head swimming--

"Hiromi-- the pollen, it's-- it's on your clothes," you urged, your brain clouding, thrumming, succumbing as yellow mist soaked into your skin.

Kento watched with erotic fascination as you became pliable, supple as water under Hiromi's mouth, your eyes half-closed with aching arousal, a desperate keening noise rising from your throat.

"Oh god yes," groaned Kento, voice gravelly with lust as he released his throbbing erection, pumping his thick cock in his fist, biting the backs of his knuckles on his free hand, "keep going, don't stop-- don't--"

Hiromi drank up Kento's begging, seethingly determined to prove his ownership of you, and grasped your top between his hands, ripping it open like paper, snapping the front of your bra so the cups hung loosely over your pebbled nipples. Hiromi heard Kento release a shuddering whine behind him as he latched his tongue and lips over your nipple, still rutting into your hand, which was joined by the other now as you worked frantically at Hiromi's trousers to release him.

Kento and Hiromi both gasped as Hiromi's cock sprang upwards, and was instantly grasped between your fingers, your first squeeze releasing a thick dribble of precum down Hiromi's length as he shuddered, moaning into your breasts, pressing his fist into the wall as you began to masturbate him. You ached to your very core, reeling with need.

"Please fuck me," you begged Hiromi, voice whispering and pleading in his ear, "cum inside me, as much as you want, I need it, I--"  Hiromi didn't need to be told twice and lifted your legs to straddle his hips, holding you up against the wall as he flipped your skirt up, ripped your tights and sticky wet underwear at the groin, and allowed you to line up his cock between your puffy, glistening folds.

Kento's hand worked harder and harder on his own cock now, stopping to circle his thumb around the sensitive head, spreading his precum, fighting the urge to throw Hiromi aside and thrust into you himself. Biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, he instead focused on where Hiromi's cock lined up with you.

"What the hell are you waiting for?" Kento growled as Hiromi paused, panting into your neck, "get inside her or I will."

With one aggressive thrust, Hiromi's cock rammed into you to the hilt, slamming you back against the wall as you cried out, clawing at him desperately. Your hands clenched the front of his shirt, gripping and ripping, buttons scattering over the floor with faint skitters, so desperate were you to feel Hiromi's skin on yours.

Hiromi fucked you ruthlessly, eyes fixed on where his cock crashed into you, hips snapping back and forth with barely controlled fury. Spurred on by your mewls and whimpers, Hiromi panted, chasing his relief, agonised cries breaking from his mouth with every other thrust.

Kento's eye had drooped closed behind Hiromi, stroking himself now to the sounds of you and Hiromi alone, feeling with agonising certainty that cumming in his own hand would do little to relieve his deadly need, but needing to chase his orgasm regardless. He felt his pleasure building rapidly as he heard you cum, falling apart with trembling cries around Hiromi's cock.

Hiromi didn't last long, his first orgasm hitting him with a wave of relief so violent, his knees almost buckled, relying on you for a moment to hold yourself up against him. Hiromi felt blinded as rope after rope of his seed spurted into you, coating your cervix, soothing your aching belly with warmth. Kento came with a shuddering gasp, streams of thick cum splattering onto the floor and coating his hand, face contorted in pain when he felt little to no relief despite his orgasm plundering through his every muscle.

You and Hiromi clung onto each other, still joined, and Hiromi's cock felt no softer at all, still rigid and held with urgency against your cervix, sucked in by your velvety walls.

"I'm-- I'm sorry I-- I can't stand--" Hiromi stuttered, dropping to his knees with your legs still wrapped around him, still pressed core to core as you wrapped your arms around his neck, straddling him, riding him as he whimpered into your mouth. Lost in your own pleasure, your eyes had drifted shut as you rode Hiromi, slippery with cum, keeping his cock jealously inside you, unwilling to let him pull out by more than an inch.

You felt a strong hand wind into your hair, tipping your head backwards and sideways, and as you gasped, you felt a droplet of salty cum drip onto your tongue. Kento's other hand, sticky with his own seed, ghosted around your lips as he stared down at you, scarred face impassive, but his eye urgently begging, and he dipped a cum-covered thumb into your mouth, stroking across your tongue.

Hiromi flung a hand out sideways, clawing with fury at Kento's thick, corded thigh; "Nanami," he hissed in warning. Kento ignored him, still staring at you, pleading, impeaching--

You nodded slowly, opening your mouth, holding out your tongue. Kento groaned his appreciation, and leant down to dip his tongue against yours as you gripped his thick cock in your hand. Hiromi scowled, thrusting you harder onto him in possessive punishment, satisfied to hear you squeak against Kento's tongue. As Kento pulled away from you and your mouth started to close, he gripped your jaw, stopping you.

"Open," he barked and you acquiesced, jolting and groaning as you felt him spit into your mouth, mixing with the drips of cum his fingers left behind. Humming lowly in satisfaction, Kento stood tall, manoeuvring your head and thrusting his full length down your throat with little warning.

Despite himself, Hiromi was hypnotised as Kento gripped you by the hair, ramming into you; Hiromi kept pace with Kento, matching his timing by slamming your hips down onto his. His eyes fixed on your mouth as you coughed and spluttered, cheeks covered with cum and saliva as you choked down wet gags, Kento barking orders at you as he slammed his cock repeatedly over your tongue and into your throat.

"Harder, Nanami," Hiromi ordered, blinded by lust as he felt your cunt clench around him, fluttering weakly as Hiromi slipped his hand between your legs, finding your clit with practiced ease, rubbing rapid circles, lubricated by the slick of your cum.

You were overwhelmed, floppy and malleable as you embraced being used by Kento and Hiromi, covered in fluids, sticky and sweating, and you shivered weakly as Hiromi dragged you to another orgasm. You felt Hiromi ram you onto him once, twice and three more times until he came with a frantic shout, legs cramping underneath him as he felt his seed shoot through him like electricity, dripping out of you and soaking the patch of trimmed black hair at the base of his cock. Hiromi whined, his balls clenching painfully, watching as Kento finished in your mouth.

Kento pulled you to him, his knuckles deep in your hair as your nose hit his neat honey-coloured pubes, gulping as streams of his hot cum trickled down your throat, Kento growling his relief-- "good girl-- good girl-- swallow now"-- as you drank him down.

Kento let go of your hair and you pulled back, gasping and coughing, his cock still rigid, sat wetly on your cheek as Kento rolled his shoulders and cracked his neck from side to side, still tense. Hiromi was wrecked, burning with need, but crippled and paralysed with a bone-deep exhaustion as he straightened his legs under you, his cock still rigid and throbbing inside you as he came down from his orgasm.

"Not-- not enough--" Kento rumbled, still desperate, devastated by the lack of relief.

"Enough, Nanami," Hiromi gasped, "She needs a--"

"'She' can handle it," you interrupted, nose to nose with Hiromi as he looked into you, glassy-eyed and worried. He nodded slowly. Kento rumbled his approval, pressing you forwards by the back of the neck until Hiromi was laid on his back on the floor, cock still inside you, and you laid down belly first on him.

Without hesitating, Kento mounted you from behind, his mouth ghosting against your ear as he bit it, relishing your squeaks as you pressed your cheek into Hiromi's chest. Lining up his cock with where Hiromi was already seated deep inside you, Kento pressed his cock into you.

You saw stars as your pussy was stretched more than it ever had been, clawing wildly at Hiromi's chest as Kento bottomed-out; Hiromi shivered with delight at the impossible tightness and slickness of you, his groans cracking as Kento's cock slid against his with every thrust. Higuruma lay unmoving at first, colours popping in his eyes, before digging his fingers into the plushness of your hips, and thrusting into you in tandem with Kento.

You were ruined, completely prone on Hiromi as you felt Hiromi and Kento's lengths bully in and out of you, your thighs shaking with urgency as your clit was shunted against Hiromi's pubic bone every time Kento rammed into you. Hearing Kento's groans, broken and velvety behind you, had you tipping over the edge, your arousal spurting out around Kento and Hiromi, your cries and whimpers echoing weakly around the little chamber.

Kento felt fire burst through his hips, back and belly as he came for a final time, barely able to keep himself from collapsing on top of you as he felt himself weaken, Hiromi's cock twitching against his as Hiromi shuddered, sandy gasps leaving his throat as his seed mixed with Kento's inside you.

Hiromi reached around you, rolling you all sideways so Kento could collapse onto the floor. You lay together, stunned, sticky and panting. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and desire. Kento chuckled, low and shaking, as you nuzzled into Hiromi, planting tender kisses on his jaw.

"Alright," he rumbled, reluctant, "so she's your girl. But I still owe her dinner."

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Hiromi and Kento at the end of this:

The reader:

This took me two large glasses of wine to write.

[cowgurrrl]

She’s A Gun

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author’s note: *John Mulaney voice* My wife is a bitch and I love her SO much (gif by @salome-c) I also didn’t know how to end this so sorry

Summary: Somebody didn’t give the new guy a heads up about talking about Joel Miller’s family [1.6k]

Warnings: idiots in love, a quick mention of a queer slur, I can’t think of anything else!!

You catch him looking at you across the room as you sip some new whiskey Tommy traded for. He looks young and fresh-faced without many scars or littering the surface of his skin. His eyes are bright when they meet yours, and you give him a polite smile before returning to your drink. Unsurprisingly, he bellies up to the bar a few minutes later. You glance at the door, and the man follows your gaze. 

"You meeting someone?" He asks. The bartender, a kind man named Nick, flashes you a look, but you wave him off, turning to the younger man, who is dead set on making his presence known. 

"You must be new." You say, and he laughs as he holds out his hand. 

"You got me. I'm Luke," He says. You meet him halfway and shake his hand, giving him your name. "Where are you from?"

"I came here from Boston."

"You're a long way from home. What brought you here?" 

"Long story."

"Is it longer than the time it would take to get you another drink?" 

"I can get my own drink, but thank you."

"'Course," he says but doesn't move from his place next to you. "What do you do here in Jackson?" He asks, and you open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off. "Let me guess. School teacher. No, a nurse."

"I work patrols, but good guess."

"Oh, I'm going to work patrols, too. I actually just signed up for my first shift tomorrow. Speaking of which, do you know anything about this guy… Miller, I think, is his name. I heard he's a hard ass."

"Joel or Tommy?"

"There's multiple?" He asks, and you smirk as you sip your drink.

"There's a few of 'em hanging around, yeah. What did they say? Maybe I can," you shrug and try to hide the amusement in your voice. "Help you figure it out."

"Well, this guy, Seth, said Miller shouldn't even be in Jackson. Something about him killing people to get by before coming here, but he gets to stay because he's buddies with Maria. Apparently, he's a hell of a shot, though. I heard a rumor that he once shot an Infected from a mile away, but I'll believe it when I see it." He says, and you nod. 

You remember that day well. Tommy had been bragging about his marksmanship, mostly telling big fish stories, and you finally got sick of it. Joel told you to leave it, but you had to see. When you went on patrol the next day, you and Tommy had a competition to see how far he could actually shoot. You passed the gun back and forth to see who could hit accurately and how far. You were the one holding the gun when the Infected bound his way up the hill and quickly went down as the bullet buried in his skull. You didn't think that story would've made the rounds, though. 

"What else did Seth say?" You ask, and he puffs his cheeks out as he shakes his head.

"He told me to stay away from him. Something about not fucking with people like that because he's ruthless, especially when it comes to his kid. He said Miller yelled at him last week because he said something to her. Just... totally lost his mind like a crazy person." It wasn't just something. He called my daughter a dyke, you think to yourself. Joel may have pushed him and made him leave, but you threatened to ruin his fucking life. If you ever hear him say something like that to Ellie again, you'll make Joel look like the poster child for forgiveness. You bite the inside of your cheek and save that information for later. 

Seth wasn't warning Luke about Joel. He was warning him about you.

"And you're sure he was talking about a man?"

"Pretty sure. I mean, I know people do lots of shitty things to stay alive, but I can't imagine a woman instilling that much fear in a man like Seth," He says, and you hum. "No offense."

"None taken." You smile and watch his guard come down just enough for him to feel comfortable reaching for your arm.

"I wish I had known they let women as beautiful as you out on patrol. I would've signed up with you instead of Miller." He says, and you almost gag. Joel's hand skims your lower back almost as if on cue, and you turn to face him. He kisses you a second too long before looking over your shoulder to face the stranger who looks embarrassed. His arm wraps protectively around your middle, and he's close enough that you can smell his shampoo over the bar’s stench of stale beer.

"Great timing. This is Luke. He's starting patrols tomorrow," You say. Joel reaches across the space to shake his hand, and Luke winces at his too-tight grip. "Luke, this is my husband, Joel Miller," you wish you had a camera to take a picture of the stunned look on his face when he hears the last name. "Joel, we were just talking about the last time I was on patrol with Tommy."

"You're Miller?" Luke asks, suddenly looking pale. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Oh, I thought I mentioned it. I'm sorry, I'm probably losing my mind." You echo Seth's words and smack yourself on the forehead dramatically. Luke drains his drink before glancing around the room.

"It was great to meet you, man. Um, I'm gonna run to the bathroom really fast." He says and takes several steps away from the bar. 

"Oh, so soon? I was hoping you and Joel could talk about routes."

"Maybe later." He says, and with that, he's gone. You smile and turn in Joel's arms to face him.

"Jesus, I thought he was going to have a heart attack. What did you say to him?" 

"Seth was warning him about the mercenary who's buddies with Maria and shot an Infected from a mile away, asked if I knew anything about the guy."

"Seth should learn to keep his fuckin' mouth shut." He grumbles, and you nod.

"It didn't help his case that he tried flirting with me. Even asked if I was a school teacher." You say, and he gives you a look. His warm fingers reach under your shirt collar to pull out the chain with your wedding band on it.

"Maybe if you actually wore this, that wouldn't happen so often."

"C'mon, everybody knows I'm yours. It's not my fault no one gave him the run down," you say, and he tugs on the chain to kiss you, his big hands moving to hold your jaw. He swallows your gasp when he licks into your mouth, sending a zing of electricity down your spine. He's a touch too handsy for a public space, but you're not complaining. "I don't see you wearing yours out on patrol either." You say, pulling away before he can start something he can't finish, at least not in public. Still, his hand slips into your back pocket, squeezing your ass through the denim.

"Don't want to lose a finger. Besides, everybody knows I'm yours," he parrots, and you smile. A familiar, old country song plays over the speakers, and Joel lights up at the first few chords. "Will you dance with me?" He asks, pressing light kisses to your jaw to butter you up. You lock your arms around his shoulders and let yourself forget about everyone else in the bar. 

"And to think there was a time when you hated PDA."

"That was before someone tried hittin' on my wife," he says, and you feel like your face will get stuck from smiling so much. It's been three months since the small backyard wedding officiated by Tommy and Maria. Ellie walked you down the aisle— more of a patch of grass than anything else— and acted as your maid of honor. When Tommy asked if she agreed to give you to Joel, she said, "it's not like she's fucking property, but sure." She beamed so brightly when she realized you each included her in your vows, promising to love and protect her as much as you love and protect each other. It wasn't planned, but the unexpected matching further proved that you three are a family. Still, you don't know if you'll ever get used to hearing Joel call you his wife. "Dance with me, please." He pouts into your neck, and you finally give in, grabbing his hand and leading him to the dance floor. 

He pulls you close, and you bury your face in his neck as you slowly dance to Tanya Tucker's voice. He sings along for only you to hear, his accent getting stronger as he does. You could stay like this forever, wrapped up in him and listening to him sing the same song you used to sing along to while driving on backroads. You would marry him again if you could. You think you would marry him in every lifetime.

Scary rumors of mercenaries and blood on your hands fade from your mind. To men like Seth and Luke, you are a subversion of their holy mother. You are bloody and broken, a monster beyond saving. You are a warzone with a heartbeat.

But to Joel, you are the most sacred thing he's ever held. It's not enough to erase the rumors and nightmares about you, but it's enough to knock the wind out of you and make you love your husband that much more. That has to count for something. 

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Tag list: @evyiione

[charliemwrites]

Hahahaha good morning I had the wildest dream last night so I’m going to inflict it on all of you:

(I’m not done with keeper/kept. Just had to get this out)

Warnings for obsessive/possessive behavior, unhealthy and semi-one sided relationship, not-quite-dark John price.

John Price who decides it time he has a wife. Not retiring, god no! He’s not done yet. But his home is lonely when he’s on leave; he’s getting sentimental as he gets “older”. So, he wants a wife.

In theory, it sounds like just what he wants. A pretty warm thing snoozing in his bed when he gets home at ass o’clock in the morning. Someone to fret over new scars and fresh bandages. Someone to fuss at him for “taste testing” meals and wrinkle their nose at his cigars.

In practice, it’s not so easy. If it was, he reckons he would have been married by now. Good thing he’s already got the perfect candidate picked out.

You own a small business in his town. Not fabulously wealthy, but comfortable and independent. Something to keep you busy while he’s away but you make your own hours so your schedule it flexible to see him when he has infrequent leave.

And he adores you, knows that you’ve got more than a little crush on him. You smile and blush and reciprocate his interest, have only refrained from perusing anything because you didn’t think he was serious. But oh, he is.

One day you say something particularly charming and he says, “marry me.”

He’s been dropping these little jokes for a while now and you always start laughing because it’s just the kind of dramatic humor you love. Today you say something different than your usual overdramatic “oh but it could never work, captain.”

Today you say, “if only.”

How pathetic is it that you’re holding a candle for a man you’ve never even gotten a coffee with? Your family laments that your can’t spend your whole life married to your job. That they want grandchildren and nieces/nephews, someone to tell embarrassing stories about you to on holidays. You used to roll your eyes, but the prospect doesn’t feel so obligatory anymore.

Anytime you imagine it, it’s John Price there. You’ve stopped trying to imagine it for your heart’s sake.

Except a week later he’s sweeping into your shop and dropping a kiss on your cheek. An unusual greeting, but maybe he’s in a good mood. His hand lingers on the small of your back while you show him the new product that just came in.

You live above your shop and one day he shows up at the door with a bottle of wine, telling you he could use some good company. You’re shocked and confused but he looks like an amalgamation of every heartthrob in a hallmark or romcom you’ve ever “ironically” enjoyed. You invite him in.

By mid morning, he’s had you in every room of your apartment. Ate you out slow and greedy on the counters. Bent you over the dining table. Bounced you on his cock on your couch. Fingered his cum out of you in the bathtub. And absolutely ruined you twice over in your own bed.

He even changes the sheets before the two of you pass out that final time. And when you finally do wake up, he’s taken the initiative to brew coffee and make breakfast. It’s like a dream.

He fucks you against the door before he leaves.

When he’s deployed again, he calls you every night. You don’t expect it the first time, but it’s a sweet gesture to show things aren’t ruined. You’re not expecting the second time either and have to call him back when you climb out of the shower. The third time you wait for it, but still startle a bit when his name pops up on the screen.

He calls you every night he can while he’s away. You don’t know what to make of it.

Then one day you come back from errands to see movers in the yard. You think it’s some kind of mistake until John meets you at your car.

“Fire in the next building over,” he explains. “Their insurance will cover all the damages but it’s not safe to stay in your place. Mine’s just up the road. Figured you could stay until it’s sorted out.”

You want to be annoyed, and you almost are. But the overwhelm of nearly losing everything - only to have all the stress already handled and the important, nerve wracking decisions smoothed over? You just take the good luck.

To thank John for his generosity (and to fill the void of not running the shop) you bustle around his too-big house. Cook meals, keep things tidy. Keep John company when he manages to snag you from your gratitude-induced work.

He spends hours fucking you nice and slow, whispering things you barely remember in your ear. That you’re perfect for him, so sweet like a little wife, that he’d come home to you for the rest of his life. You kiss him quiet and rock back against him when it starts sounding too tempting.

Eventually, the repairs on your shop/apartment are done. It feels like a rude awakening to a pleasant dream. Instead of moving your things back, John moves more things in. When you tell him that you appreciate his kindness, but you should probably get back to your own space, he gets an odd look. Asks what you mean when this is your space.

And the trap springs closed.

“John,” you half-laugh, shaking your head. “We’re not actually married you know?”

“Not last I checked.”

The marriage certificate gets framed in the bedroom you’ve been sharing for a month. You storm out and stay in a hotel. He lets you for three days before coming to retrieve you. When you try to be stubborn, he gives you an exasperated look (as if you’re the one being unreasonable) and politely asks that you not make a scene by forcing him to carry you of there.

For your own reputation, you comply, glowering out his car window the whole ride to his house. Try to give him the silent treatment which lasts about 30 minutes before he’s got you moaning and whining on his cock.

He drives you to the shop in the morning and picks you up at night. Anytime you try to put your little foot down, he just scoops you off them. The neighbors start cooing that he’s such a good man. You try not to scream.

When he’s finally deployed again, you try to move all your things back to your home. Except the movers apologetically tell you that they can’t trespass on John’s property.

Fine, you’ll do it yourself. Somehow.

You pack two suitcases and some of your cookware. Load it all up in a rental - because John sent your damn car into the shop - and trying to get comfortable in your own flat again.

Except it’s all wrong. The scent of smoke still lingers, it’s cold because the heating hasn’t been turned on yet this year. Half your things are gone and there’s no food in the fridge or pantries. You tough it out. Buy a ready-made meal and new bed linens and pillow. Sleep in a bed too cold even with the heat finally on.

When John calls, you don’t answer. He sends a text that simply reads “I love you.” You toss your phone across the room.

The next night, when he calls again and you don’t answer, he sends a “stay safe, love.” You spend twenty minutes with fingers poised over the keys. Chug a glass of wine and send back a neutral “you too, John”.

When he calls on the third night, you pick up, bark a sharp “knock it off” and hang up. Another text that he was so happy to hear your voice.

Another call, you pick up and demand “what are you doing?” He chuckles on the other end. “Calling my darling wife. I miss you.” You believe him. That’s the worst part.

When he gets back, you ride the long, long river of denial right up until he’s at your door, eyebrows arched. “Really, love,” he hums, “you didn’t have to come all the way over here just because you missed me.”

You want to hit him. You storm off to your bedroom instead. He wanders the house. You hear him clattering in the kitchen and wandering around the living room. When you hear the door close, you think he’s finally left and given all this up.

Twenty minutes later, he’s casually removing the door (sans hinges) and gathering you up. When you get back to his house, he carries you inside and fucks the tantrum right out of you in the shower, growling that you don’t smell like home anymore.

When you wake up from your three-orgasm induced nap, he’s washing the clothes you took to your old flat. On your left hand is a pretty diamond with “JP” carved into the band.

At the store, people start calling you “Mrs. Price”. The neighbors (John’s neighbors) invite you over as “the Prices”. You glare at him when he starts looking too smug about it.

When he’s set to deploy again, he sits you on the kitchen counter, caging you in with arms.

“Don’t make me come get you this time,” he warns, pressing kisses along your jaw. “This is gonna be a rough one. I just want to see you when I get home.”

It’s a warning that you know to heed. You don’t try to leave this time. When he calls, you answer, rattling off stupid details about your day. You’re shocked to hear him remember names and dates and tasks with everything else hes got going on. Promises he’ll deal with the creep at the post office when he gets home.

“And… you are coming home… right?” you ask.

“Nothing could keep me away, love.”

He doesn’t call for three days straight. You tell yourself the tightness in your chest is just anxiety over how the hell to handle his assets if he’s dead.

At 3am, the bed dips, a warm body pressing up against your back. You recognize John’s arms wrapping tight around your waist. You stir.

“Are you alright?” you ask.

“Perfect now, love.”

“Mm welcome home.”

“Good to be home, gorgeous.”

[thoughtvoid]

Everyone knows retail sucks, but the current problem I have is that I care too much about doing a good job at whatever task I’m given, and it’s snowballed into ‘when we need to assign someone to do one of any of these five tasks, we pick you’ and I have to go ‘it’s cool that you think I do a good job, but my brain isn’t happy and it’s definitely less happy when trying to juggle while running a marathon, so please no’.

The other problem is I want to do super super mundane stuff, like making sure we have our rotating supplies on hand and the ever increasing urge to take stock of all the fixtures we have in the back room and see exactly how much of all sorts of things we have lying around. But no, I have to do ‘productive’ things that involve the never-ending grind wheel that is putting stuff out to sell.

[becomingmina]

FUCKBOY MIN. little series w/ LEEKNOW

18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

pairing: lee minho x female reader genre + warnings: previous fkbuddy relationship, angst, smut mdni!, min is mean, oral (f recieving), semi-public (empty bathroom), hyunjin is a character wc: 3.4k mina's note: Minho is kinda mean. The way I would have done anything for him just so he can like me back. ❤️‍🩹

other works here ; any comments and thoughts you can drop them here ; ty for reading.

series chapter ➵ part two, part three ending one

"Isn't that Y/N?" Han asked looking over the older boy's shoulder.

Minho turns his head around and sees you amongst the crowd - of the very grand party he dreads. He feels himself tense up at the sight of you, he hasn’t seen you in a while and you looked as beautiful as ever. He can feel the corner of his lip turn up as he replays memories of him and you, and that’s when he realises he misses you.

But the feeling soon fades when he notices you’re with a guy. Only a month and you already found yourself a guy? Loud sweet giggles falls from your lips as you grip the man's biceps, laughing about nothings. He scoffs to himself as he recognises the man.

“Out of all the boys in this fucking city, she chose fucking Hwang Hyunjin?” Minho blurted, he was mad. “She’s got a type. Fuckboys,” he turns back around to Han and raises his brows, as if asking for him to agree with the statement.

“You’re not going to do anything right hyung?” Han nervously asked, knowing his hyung will definitely be doing something.

“She just looks too happy, Han. I gotta ruin it for her. Especially when it’s Hwang Hyunjin she’s fucking with,” Minho says before downing the rest of his drink and ditching the younger boy.

Minho met you a couple months ago at one of his mother’s grand get-together. He only came to these events in hopes to find a hook up or a quick fuck, he was never here to support his mom on what ever event-job-work-promotion she got herself into. He probably got with half of the girls who attended these parties with their rich parents.

“Imagine what your daddy would think of his sweet innocent daughter completely coming vulnerable underneath some guy she just met?” Minho would often whisper in their ears as he thrusts into them. He would say anything to get them to sleep with him then ghost them the next day, leaving them restless.

However you weren’t like any of these girls to him, well at first. Minho was addicted to you, he couldn’t put his finger on it but he kept coming back to you. After seeing you a few times, he proposed for you both to be fwb and you agreed, because to be very honest, Minho was hot and he was a great fuck, the best if you can say. Also, something about him felt very secure to you. Meaningless fucks turned into lingering kisses, then turned into secrets date nights. You both shared such gentle and heartfelt moments, like cooking dinner together to holding hands randomly. Minho became so romantic with you secretly, but he never sincerely voiced it. You fell for him. You wanted to do anything for him in hopes that he liked you back. You became obsessive, got restless, jealous that there was many other girls hovering around him. You wanted him to yourself, and it got to the point where you had pull him away one night, letting your tears run down your face as you admitted your feelings to him, intoxicated. And maybe because he never dealt with such heavy feelings and high emotions like this before that, he turned on you.

“Y/N, you're just like the other girls.. Maybe worse. Easy. Clingy. I would never like you back.. Are you crazy?" You couldn't believe it, he abandoned you. Minho ended up treating you just like all the other girls.

Now the other half of the girls that Minho didn’t hooked up with were probably sorted by Hwang Hyunjin. The city’s heartbreaker. Classic story of two best friends that now hates each other. Minho and Hyunjin grew up together, basically brothers due to their mother’s close friendship. But when the boys got older they grew apart. Times that was supposed be spent together catching up on a tv show or playing basketball turned into time spent with a girl trying to get her to undress underneath them. It was now a competition to see who played the most girls. Oh how toxic.

So when Minho saw you in the ballroom with Hyunjin, he assumed you two were sleeping together. Minho needed to get you alone before the end of the night.

He needed to ruin you, in order to ruin it for Hyunjin aswell.

“Should I get you another drink?” The long haired boy asked realising the glass in your hand was almost empty.

“I was actually eyeing the orange slices over there-” you pointed out, gesturing to the massive grazing table.

“-Mimosa?” He was quick to respond, tone so sweet and cheeky.

“You know me too well Hyunjin,” you smiled admiringly up at the boy.

“I’ll get the champagne, you get the oranges and we meet back here then,” he says, hints of his dorky smile showing.

You were finally alone.

"Hey baby," Minho speaks from behind you, his voice so deep, hands find their way to your hips sending chills down your spine. He used to call you that all the time, and your heart never fails to beat out of your chest from it.

Lee Minho. Why the hell was he behind you? Shouldn’t he breaking some poor innocent girl’s heart?

“I missed you.” You stood still at his words, unable to move.

No not this again.

"Minho, go away," you finally spoke, building up a wall that you know isn’t going to stay up.

"No. I need to talk to you baby. I missed you," he made sure you heard him, his hands now made its way higher to your waist. "You look so pretty tonight..” one hand rests on your waist as the other one slowly travels to your thigh. “I missed your pretty little body so much, baby,” his lips were so close to your face, the proximity is so familiar, so safe that you wanted to turn and press your lips on his. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” Minho had you under his spell, his presence was all it took for you to consider him again. You lean back, head taking its place on his shoulder as your back pressed on his chest. You tilt your head up slowly, finally looking at him. Oh, he was so beautiful as ever. His cute little bunny teeth showing from his agape mouth, his pretty sparkly eyes looking down at you, and his sharp nose, which you remember you use to peck so much. You missed him so much, you couldn’t resist it anymore.

“Min.” You say in the most vulnerable tone ever, gripping his forearm, giving in to him. He smiles at the nickname, the nickname only you were allowed to call him by.

"Come with me," and with that he yanked your arm dragging you through the crowd, for sure going to leave Hyunjin confused when he comes back.

Minho pulled you into an empty bathroom and pressed you against the door after locking it, instantly smashing his lips on to yours. His lips feels so soft against yours and your body hasn’t felt this rush of adrenaline in a while that you were going insane. Already feeling yourself start to go wet, you were so bothered, you needed more. Your teeth clashes as he practically devours you, his hand hoists one of your leg over his hip.

“Need you on the counter, bunny,” he murmured in between the kisses, there goes the nicknames again. He carries you to the counter, helping you up, your legs immediately spreading for him to slot himself in between. His hand slips underneath your dress, brushing against your clothed core.

“Already so wet for me,” he smirks, feeling the patch on your panties. “Can I?” He asked tapping his finger twice on your core. You nodded throwing your head back and he accepts the invitation to suck on your neck, leaving marks. Minho’s fingers pulls your panties to the side, his pointer finger finally runs through your folds. You were so warm, so sticky already that Minho let out a moan into your neck, unable to control the pleasure he was also having. You jolted forward when his fingers finally entered you pumping you slowly, causing him to let out an airy scoff. “Need to taste, let me taste?” You nod again knowing every time Minho ate you out, he would reward you with his dick for being such a good girl. You wanted that again.

“Need to hear you say it, Y/N,” he stops his movements, to brush your hair out of your face adoring your features.

Verbal consent has always been a big thing to Minho. He has so much control when the other person expresses what they want. It feeds into his already massive ego seeing the other person submit to him, makes him feel like he was in winning. And right there and then when he asked that question he wanted you to submit, so he can feel bigger than Hyunjin.

“Yes, please Min. I want it,” you gave him exactly what he wanted. You missed this. You missed his body and how he fucked you, how he made love to you. You miss Minho. You miss how sweet and gentle he was. How he would text you if you got home okay after spending the entire day with him. How innocent and lovely he can be talking about his cats, his hobbies. You wanted him to like you back, to want you back that you were willing to let him do anything to you, to use you.

“You’re still so good baby,” he buttered you up pressing a kiss your lips once more, letting it linger on a bit before dropping to his knees. He bundles your thin long dress around your waist, pulling down your soaked panties and burying them deep in his pocket. He is met with your pretty pussy, glistening with arousal. Your scent takes him by surprise and he goes numb. Oh, how he remembers it all so well, he would spend forever in between your legs on a Sunday afternoon. He parts your thighs and moves his face closer to your cunt, finally sliding his tongue in your slit. You still taste as sweet as ever too and that was all it took for Minho to devour you, to eat you out like a starved man. You lean back on one hand and the other one finds its place in Minho’s hair keeping it there. He was so good with his tongue, alternating between giving fat stripes, kitten licks and harsh sucks on your clit. Minho was getting you closer to your orgasm. Moans and whimpers falls from your lips as you allow him to hear how good he is making you feel.

“Feels good baby? You still taste so sweet, I just know you’re still going to be so tight." he removes himself from you just so he can glance up at your fucked out state nodding to every word he was saying.

“Want to- to cum,” you needed to cum, you were on the verge of tears feeling the tension in your stomach start to fade..

“Hm?”

“Please, I want to cum Min,” you restates and he dives back down. He grips your thighs as he makes out with your pussy, his nose hitting your clit every now and then to get you going again. Minho picks up his pace, moving his kisses to your clit where he then sucks harshly earning a sharp moan from you. You jolt forward, thighs closing around him, throwing your head back as you spray Minho with your sweet release. You feel him smirk against your pussy, his mouth and chin coated in your arousal. That wasn’t enough for you, you wanted more. Your hand pushes his head further into your cunt as you grind down in his nose, riding out your high. Minho lets you use him, his tongue still overstimulating you until you were satisfied. Frankly, he found it hot how after just one taste you go feral for him.

He licks his lips cleaning himself off as he gets up from your legs, helping you pull down your dress. He cages you between his hands that are now resting on the counter, you don’t move. Just staring up at him, he examines your features again, taking all everything that he used to adore. Something about this moment just feels so innocent to both of you, that Minho can help but give you small giggles, his lips turning into a smile. You mirror it in return, sitting in silence as you both recalls the old times.

A sudden buzz of your phone causes you both to snap out of the sweet moment, heads turning to the device next to you on the counter. And Minho grows hot, his reputation overshadowed his feelings for you the second he saw Hyunjin’s name pop up. He lets out a scoff, remembering why he got you in this bathroom in the first place.

Minho's leans in slowly, one hand still gripping on the counter but the other comes up close to your face. Your phone forgotten now. You think he's about to kiss you but he dodges your lips, making his way by your ears as he lets out an airy chuckle, he sounded so cocky you were taken by surprise at his sudden change in demeanour.

"God, Y/N. You're still so easy," His tone deep aiming an attack on you as he reaches for the paper towel dispenser behind your head. He pulls out a towel throwing it to you, to clean yourself up. "Still so desperate for me". It broke you. He has never done this to you before, usually he'll be on after care and cleaning up. Your head snaps to his face, taking in his smirk and dark eyes. You swallow hard, a salty taste coat your tongue and you realise you're trying you best to not cry.

“Are you this desperate for Hyunjin too?” you furrowed your brows together in response. What?

“Hmm?” You asked confused.

“You got a type Y/N, you’re so pathetic.” He continues, the vibrating of your phone doesn't help but fuels his anger.

"Min, what do you mean?" It was clear to you that Minho and Hyunjin weren’t the best of friends when you meet with Minho. But that night when Minho abandoned you, Hyunjin witnessed the whole thing. He help you get up, covering you with his his coat, wiping away your tears and took you home.

"What are you doing here with Hwang Hyunjin?" he finally asked. But you don't respond, instead you hop off the counter, unable to control how hurt you are from his previous act. Your eyes sparkle, cheeks pink, lips trembling. He takes in your reaction, making him feel a bit guilty as he has seen this all before. The night you admitted your feelings.

"You guys fucking?" this time his tone and eyes soften, it was like he needed to confirm it first before continuing to take out his anger and tension on you. You reach for your phone but he snatches before you could, declining the call sliding it across the counter where you can’t reach.

"Does he fuck you as good as I do?" He moves in closer, your noses barely touching. "He treats you better than I do?" You stay quiet.

You didn't know what to answer. Do you lie? Do you teel the truth? Regardless at the end of this Minho isn't coming back to you right? You realised the moment he called you pathetic.

He moves in to kiss your cheek, a gentle peck. Your heart starts to race even more, unable to look him in the eyes. One hand comes up to hold your face, thumb rubbing against your cheeks. "Come on baby, tell me and I'll give you what you want," his lips comes in contact with yours. You melt into the kiss, your hands grasping the waist band of his trousers. Snap out of it, Y/N. "Hmm, you going to be good and tell me? He kisses you better than I do?" He kisses you harder, helping you back up the counter. He takes back his initial position, in-between your legs. Minho moves his kisses down your neck as his hands advances to your shoulders, pulling the thin straps down exposing your chest. He gulps at the sight and latching his lips onto your boob, his hand groping the other one. You tired your hardest not to give in but you cant, the feeling is too strong. You whimper at the contact, your hand palming his hard on through his pants. It was the first time you touched him that night and Minho throws his head back, unable to control the sexual frustration.

"Fuck- see what you do to me, baby?" He coos. You undo his belt, pulling his trousers along with his boxer down, meeting with his big cock. He was already so red, a bead of pre cum already spilling frim his tip. You grab the base of his cock, holding it firmly giving him a gentle pump. Just like the way you always did. Fuck Y/N I missed this so much. Minho finds himself addicted again as he shuts his eyes, a little moan slipping from his lip. You continue to pump him and he tries his best not to give into you but your hands felt so good, he could cum like this. You lean forward attaching your lips to his neck, leaving marks just like he did to you before. “Want you Min,” you whimper on his skin. You needed to feel him inside you.

"Answer me first, Y/N." He was getting irritated at your lack of answer. God, why are you so caught up on this Minho! Your phone rings again, the buzzing noises incites his thought, and that was the breaking point for him. Hwang Hyunjin. Only Y/N would want such a pathetic man like him. "I'm not fucking you if you’re dirty Y/N," he says and you halt your movements, completely removed yourself from him.

"What?" You replied. Minho is now faced with your confused face.

"You're so desperate Y/N. I can’t believe you’re with Hyunjin right after I left you? You're so dirty for that,” Minho repeat himself moving closer to you to provoke you, he was sure you had given yourself to the other bloke. Your lack of answer confirmed it for him too. “Did you fuck Hyunjin?" But he was determined to hear it.

You took a deep sigh, and all the names and remarks he had made to you tonight flooded your head. You’re hurt. God, Y/N you are pathetic. You wanted to turn this on him but you couldn’t. Regardless of what you answer, you couldn’t win and Minho won’t be yours.

"No I didn't because I love you, Min," you confessed, pushing him off you. You proceed to pull up your dress and jump off the counter. You needed to leave him.

You brushed past him retrieving your phone and bag, unlocking the door and walking out.

Leaving him the way he left you, abandoned. Although it was your feelings that he disregarded, leaving him while he was hard and sexually unsatisfied like this would have hurt the same for a fuck boy like him.

But Minho wasn’t hurt by that. Your words was the thing that stung him. Shes loves me? No one had ever done this to Minho, he didn't know what to do. Such a similar feeling to how you felt - when he ghosted you and just now.

His words still played in your mind, they're still lingering around you. You wanted to sob, cry your heart out but you couldn't just yet, only allowing the tears to build in your eyes. Did you really just let him treat you like that? You chose pleasure again instead of protecting your already broken heart. Minho was right, you are fucking easy. You see the exit through your blurry vision and you rushed to it, pushing into the many people that was just crowding around. Just as you're about to leave a hand pulls you back.

"Y/n, you okay?" You turned around to meet with Hyunjin, and you couldn't help but burry your face in his chest as you let your tears fall.

"I hate him," you cried loudly, your whole body shaking and your legs go numb. Hyunjin hugs you, both arms wrapped around you tightly as he lets you become completely vulnerable. You were safe with him.

"I know.. Let's go home."