#also! if you ever want to talk just message

[a-b-riddle]

Part Five

Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)

You call Meredith when you get home.

You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.

How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.

"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."

"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"

"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."

"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.

"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."

"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."

"That works."

"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."

It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.

"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.

"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."

The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.

Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.

But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.

You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.

You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.

Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.

“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...

“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”

"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"

"You won't return any of our messages."

"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."

"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.

"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.

Dammit.

"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."

"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.

"Why not?" He countered.

“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”

He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.

You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.

God...

That felt good.

You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...

You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.

[watchmegetobsessed]

TOO SWEET

A/N: i know originally i teased something else with the hozier song, but this came to me when i saw the pics below and i just had to write them. also, i put the bruises on him so go easy on my photoshop skills lol

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

WARNING: mention of blood and bruises

SUMMARY: You and Harry are worlds apart, yet you can't let go of each other, not even when he stumbles into your home in the middle of the night, bruised and in pain.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

You wake to the sound of the front door closing and by the time his footsteps reach the bathroom down the hall you’re fully conscious. There was a time when you considered yourself a heavy sleeper, when the smallest noises could not bother you enough to wake from your dreams, but those days have been gone ever since Harry came into your life. 

You kind of knew what you were getting yourself into, his reputation and horrific stories about his dark deals were more than well-known around town and there was a time you never thought you’d get involved with him. You’re worlds apart, he is the fire that will burn you if you get too close, but it appears you’re the water that could take his danger out. Just one party, one glance across the room was enough to bound you two together and turn your life upside down. 

Surprisingly, you weren’t the only one fighting against the pull. In the beginning, Harry tried to keep him away from you just as much as you attempted to convince yourself he is nothing but trouble. You still remember what he told you one night when you met him at a dodgy bar against your better judgment. 

“I take my whiskey neat, my coffee black and my bed at three. You’re way too sweet for me, baby.”

It felt like he wasn’t even talking to you but to himself. His light green eyes were darker than ever as he stared down at your lips and you couldn’t figure out what you wanted more, to kiss him or to leave him. Even though what he said sounded a lot like a promise that he’ll step back, somehow you just ended up even closer. 

Life with Harry is like a rollercoaster that takes you through Hell and Heaven at the same time. When it’s good, it’s a high you’ve never experienced before, he is everything you want and could ever need, he fills your heart and eases your mind like no one can and you know he is the piece you’ve been searching for all your life.

But when it’s low… the darkness feels like a weight you can barely carry and it’s hard to remember what it was like when you were blossoming. 

You never asked Harry to stop his underworld deals, you know it’s practically impossible, but it’s also hard to live like this. Fearing every call you get, fighting intrusive thoughts about what might have happened to him every time he doesn’t answer your messages and then there are the nights like this, when he visits you in the middle of the night but it’s always for the wrong reason. 

The first time Harry appeared at your door at two am, blood running down his face, barely holding himself up, you got so worried he had to calm you even though he was the one with the injuries, but you just couldn’t stop crying and sobbing. 

Now you still get yourself worked up but you learned to keep your face straight as you clean his wounds or even stitch them, but it’s still just as much of a struggle emotionally to see the man you love like this all the time. 

You sit up in your bed as you hear him grunt before closing the bathroom door as quietly as he can and then the water starts running. Reaching for your phone on the nightstand you check the time, it’s just a little past three in the morning, the dim light of the streetlamps are the only source of light in your tiny bedroom, but even despite the darkness, it still feels bright and homey, you spent a lot of time to create this bubble for yourself and though Harry’s gruff and edgy presence feels the farthest from your colorful life, he still somehow belongs here, in your life.

Rubbing your eyes you stand up and look for the cardigan you know you left on the chair in the corner. When you find it you wrap yourself into it tight and take a moment to mentally prepare yourself for whatever you’ll see. From what you heard, he wasn’t limping so that’s a good start, but you still know there’s a whole lot that could be terrifyingly wrong with him to make him come to you instead of his place.

The water has stopped running by the time you make your way out of the bedroom and over to the bathroom. Light is flowing out underneath the door and you don’t know before simply twisting the knob and opening the door, revealing Harry sitting in the bathtub, bent forward, his curls wet and brushed back, bruises covering his shoulders, back and jawline, his bottom lip busted open.

Repentance fills his glimmering eyes when he looks at you and you know what he would say if his pride allowed him to speak.

“I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry. I want to be better for you, but it’s so hard.”

Walking over you kneel down next to the tub and cup his face with your palm, gentle and soft, not to hurt him and he melts into your touch in an instant. 

“I’m alright,” he rasps as you run your hand down his naked chest, over some of the bruises and you notice how he winces when your cold hand touches a vigorously dark mark on his collarbone. 

You’d do anything to free him from this dark world that keeps him as its prisoner, but ironically you know what kind of consequences one would have to endure to be set free and you fear those would take him from you forever. So every time you see the marks of this evil life on him, a piece of you dies. For him. 

“I’ll get you some pills,” you whisper and try to get up, but his hand grabs your arm, holding you back.

“Just… stay with me, please.” It’s a desperate plea you could never ignore, so you settle back onto the fuzzy rug next to the tub, one arm against his chest as he hugs it like a child, your thumb gently rubbing the side of his neck. But you don’t stay like that much longer. The urge to get closer to him grows unbearable, so you move to stand again and when you see the panic in his eyes you’re quick to calm him.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Hesitantly, but he lets go of your arm and watches you as you undress yourself and join him in the tub, sitting behind him so you can hug him from behind, your chest melting against his back as your heartbeats sync. 

His head falls back onto your shoulder while your lips pepper kisses onto his every once in a while, your hands gently running up and down his front, eager to feel the softness of his skin. 

“You’re way too sweet for me,” he breathes out.

“Haven’t we been over this?” you ask with a soft smile. He lifts his head and then turns it so he can look at you. 

“I feel like I’m ruining you.”

“Don’t act like it’s all on you. I made a decision too and I chose to be with you.”

“You made a mistake,” he whispers and you see something dark, something desperate take over his face for a moment, but you’re quick to bring him back to you, like you always do.

Soothing his hair back, you pull him closer so your lips meet for the softest kiss. 

“You could never be a mistake,” you whisper against his lips and you feel him inhale sharply before he kisses you, harder and needier and you’re happy to give him whatever he demands from you. 

You stay in the tub until the water gets too cold. Then you grab him a shirt and a pair of underwear he left at yours a while ago and you move to the bedroom. He finally lets you get him some painkillers and you tell him to get in bed when he tries to randomly fix the jammed drawer of your desk. He loves to play the handyman when he’s over, but now is definitely not the time for that.

“Okay, doctor, gotcha,” he chuckles cheekily as he shuffles over to the bed. He watches you with a smirk as you’re moving around, grabbing another blanket before joining him in bed.

“What?” you ask when he just keeps looking at you smugly.

“You take so good care of me, baby. You know, there is one more thing I think I need to feel better.”

Reaching over he hooks a finger into the front of your shirt, tugging it down teasingly. 

“Oh, really?” you arch an eyebrow at him.

“Absolutely.”

Instead of a reply, you move closer and press two fingers into a bruise on his shoulder just enough to make him wince and flinch back from the pain.

“I think you need to stay away from physical activities, that’s the doctor’s order,” you scoff.

“Fuck, there was nothing sweet about that, damn!” he grunts, making you laugh. 

“But you love it when I put you into your place, don’t you?” Grinning you scoot closer, his arm curling around you instantly.

“I do. Only you can do that,” he smiles down at you.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

[rafescurtainbangz]

Frat Rafe Headcanons +18 Minor DNI

Ask: @babygorewhore Baby I need more frat rafe headcannons please feed me mommy

Sorry this took me so long, babe. Thank you so much for your ask Also, if you haven't, please read @xxbimbobunnyxx frat carwash blurb you should because it’s so cute. Those carwash videos make me blush for reallll. And I swear I'll be dropping some pervfrat!rafe part 2 soonish

Also I dropped fic yesterday and didn't tag people 😭 here

unedited

Pet names, unprotected p in v, mentions of oral sex, public sex, choking, jealousy, ownership kink, perv Rafe, recording sex, possessive, mentions of fighting, degradation

Meeting Him…

Frat Rafe - Who first noticed you from across the lecture hall. Luckily for him, you were sitting next to a pledge who quickly switched seats the second Rafe gave him a hard look. He didn't say a whole lot at first, chuckling to himself as he watched a little blush creep across the apples of your cheeks when he spread his thighs slightly brushing his knee against yours.

Frat Rafe - Who couldn't take his eyes off of you through the soapy glass at the Fraternity Car Wash. You shamelessly recorded the show, giggling and smiling as he and his brothers washed cars between slow grinds and finger-drawn hearts. A very wet Rafe Cameron somehow made it through the car window, his tall frame barely fitting inside the cab as he continued to work for your cash. He danced to the music blaring through the speakers, smiling cheekily as you tucked a few extra dollars in his short red trunks.

Frat Rafe - Who waved you down before you could pull out of the lot, jogging up to your freshly cleaned car, asking you to come out to the bar that night.

Frat Rafe - Who sent three back-to-back text messages before you could pull away, the third making your mouth fall open. You looked through the window, watching Rafe chuckle and smirk, pretty proud of himself at the reaction that he got from you and the smile you couldn't take off your lips.

Frat Rafe - Who you fucked after the first date. You couldn't stop thinking about him after the carwash, his tanned, toned skin glistening in the sun. It was unclear just how many times you watched that fucking video, but it was a lot. You couldn't wait to get your hands on him. Rafe Cameron lived up to every one of the rumors. The sex was amazing, the best you ever had, rough and slow, fast when you needed it. His long thick cock filled you deliciously. It seemed like he was always one step ahead of you; like he knew what you wanted before you even asked. His beautiful blue eyes were always on you, hazed with sex. His soft lips and tongue pleased you again and again ‘til you were a babbling mess.

Dating Frat!Rafe…

Frat Rafe - Who’s affectionate and gentle with you. Only you get to see that side of him, Rafe, reserving all his sweetness for you.

Frat Rafe - Who loves to wrap his strong arm around your neck in doggy, tugging you as close as possible, ‘til you're begging him to let you cum.

Frat Rafe - Who went absolutely crazy the first time you called him daddy. The petname quickly became his favorite.

Frat Rafe - Who loves to brag about you to his frat brothers, especially when he's drunk. The blonde, quick to remind them how much better you are than the girls they are hitting on to the point where it's downright rude. You’ll scold his tipsy ass, and he’ll sass you as he continues to dog his friend until you have no choice but to smash your lips against his and steal the words off his lips.

Frat Rafe - Who sent you this message just a few days after you started talking:

Little did you know how much it was on his mind. He hated that you weren't official. A much as Rafe wanted you to belong to him, he wanted to belong to you.

Frat Rafe - Who asked you out that night ‘cause he couldn't wait any longer.

Frat Rafe - Who loves sneaking away with you at parties. Sure, he loves showing you off, but his favorite thing to do is chill in his truck, listening to music while the two of you share a joint and talk.

Frat Rafe - Who would rather spend every night at your place than the frat house because he can actually relax. Some nights you go to sleep alone and wake up with Rafe’s strong body hugging you from behind after he let himself in with the key you had cut just for him. He couldn't sleep and needed you.

Frat Rafe - Who lives in weathered fraternity t-shirts and snapbacks if he's not rocking a crisp polo. At any function, Rafe’s hat usually ends up on your head, one way or another, left on from time to time when you suck him off or ride his cock.

Frat Rafe - Who doesn't trust any of his frat brothers around you but Top. If you’re coming over to hang out he's meeting you out at your car to walk you in. If you're at a party his hand is in yours, resting on your back, draped over your shoulder, or wrapped around your waist. He loves the contact just as much as he loves keeping you safe.

Frat Rafe - Who texts you cute/horny shit when he's drunk and you're away.

He often questions how he got so lucky or why are you dating me again? Rafe knows you love him, he just loves hearing it. His frat brothers also know when you're gone for the weekend because Rafe turns into an absolute dick, bitching about everything until you're back.

Frat Rafe - Who doesn't care if people can hear the two of you having sex in fact he loves it. Rafe coaches you through each orgasm, trying hard to get you screaming for him.

"C'mon, princess... Let these boys hear how good daddy’s givin’ it to you."

"Shh... Baby, I'd hate for all these guys to hear what a filthy fuckin’ slut you are f’me."

“Bet he didn't think I was fuckin’ you right. What do you think he thinkin’ now huh?”

He also loves watching you walk back into the party all flushed and wobbly knowing that he was the reason you were weak in the knees. Rafe loves to mark you with love bites, and hand prints, dark hickies on your cleavage that peek out of your low-cut dress, pairing beautifully with the sparkly little R pendant around your neck.

Frat Rafe - Who dedicates every Wednesday night for date night and will never let a frat meeting or function interfere.

Frat Rafe - Who’s a surprisingly good dancer. He’ll only dance at the bar if he's wasted, but when he does, your ass is pressed up against him with his strong hands clutching your hips. It doesn't take long until you’re dress is bunched up around your waist, panties pushed to the side, with Rafe’s pants in a puddle around his ankles as he fills you up in the dingy bar bathroom. On the other hand, if you’re at the frat house, it only takes a song or two until your bent over the bathroom sink or pressed up against the hallway wall.

Frat Rafe - Who couldn't wait for Spring Break. Each drunken day was spent at the beach with his frat brothers and your friends - each night, a different bar. But Rafe made sure you still had some moments alone whether it be to take you shopping, share a beer, or watch the sunset.

Frat Rafe - Who got rid of his dirt bike and bought a motorcycle instead. Of course, making sure he bought a helmet for you so he could bring you to class or for a cruise around campus.

Frat Rafe - Who fell in love with you all over again when you made him a beer poster with yourself as the model. You had no idea how much he loved it until you showed up to the next frat party and saw it framed on the wall.

Frat Rafe - Who’s gotten in trouble with the law a few times for fighting. Rafe, no stranger to a fight on account of you when someone tries to start shit or gets handsy. He never ends up making it to jail, usually talking or paying his way out of it.

Frat Rafe - Who knows your class schedule like the back of his hand. Whenever he's at the library he’ll text you and ask if you need a study break which is code for stuffing you full of his cock in study room D.

Frat Rafe - Who jealously gets the better of him, and when he pisses you off, all it takes is a flirty smile and a wave at one of his frat brothers or a hockey player to set him off. The rest of the night consists of rough, possessive sex, and punishment which somehow turns into sweet, slow passionate sex where's he's mumbling I love you’s and I’m sorry’s between deep strokes and kisses.

Frat Rafe - Who loves it when you wear his clothes, especially his oversized frat t-shirts paired with your cute little panties.

Frat Rafe - Who sends you gym selfies because he knows how crazy they make you, especially post-workout shots.

Frat Rafe - Who couldn't keep his hands or eyes off you at the frat formal. It was hard not to think about the future when you looked so pretty in your white sparkly dress.

Frat Rafe - Who’s fiercely loyal. You never need to worry about other girls around him, but the sight of it still makes you jealous. Rafe is quick to assure you you're all he wants and needs.

Frat Rafe - Who has a thing for your panties. The lacey and prettier the better; wrapped around the shift of his truck, looped over the hand of his bedroom door, the rung of his bedpost, anywhere and everywhere. He loves to wrap them around the base of his cock when you ride him or knot them around your wrists when he ties you to his headboard. But his eyes roll back in his skull when you stuff them in his mouth because he loves how you taste.

Frat!Rafe - Who loves recording the two of you having sex and frequently snaps pictures of you just ‘cause.

Frat!Rafe - Who won't just send you dick pics when you ask, but videos with the sounds on, usually moaning your name until he’s spilling onto his hand, using the pictures or videos the two of you took as porn.

Frat!Rafe - Who had to change his lock screen when you took him home for the holidays because it was a picture of you in his favorite lingerie.

Frat!Rafe - Who has pictures of you everywhere and he doesn't care who sees because don’t you wish you had a girl like mine.

Masterlist

Pictures and texts from Pinterest

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for killing my character and quitting a D&D game I was part of?

Apologies in advance but this is going to be rather long, I'll put a TL;DR at the bottom.

So this all started about eleven months ago when I (14, she/they/he) started getting into D&D, and joined a D&D group thanks to a friend of mine we'll call T (14, he/they). The group was made up of about five people total, but the main people in this situation are me, T, and the DM who we'll call N (15, he/him).

Now when I was making my character, T was helping me out by letting me describe what sort of character I wanted and suggesting different races, classes etc to make it work how I wanted, and what we ended up with was a Pact of the Undead warlock. The backstory of my character was that their older brother died defending them from an invasion of the village they lived in.

My character managed to make contact with their spirit in the afterlife and formed a "pact" with them, gaining power in exchange for letting him "look after them" (i.e. keep watch over them from the afterlife, protect them from harm, all that sorta thing). T told me to run the final concept past N but that they were sure it'd be allowed and that the pact idea was really sweet.

So I told N about my character and the backstory idea like T suggested and N seemed really on board with the whole thing, though he wanted to make a few slight changes to things in secret that would come up during the campaign, to make things more exciting I guess.

I told him I was alright with that, as long as nothing about who the pact was with and what it was for changed too much. He assured me that it wouldn't and that he'd get back to me on what changes he was planning, but he never did, and at the time I just put that down to him being busy.

The campaign starts, and for the first few months things are going pretty good. I do notice that a lot of NPCs, in fact nearly every non-child NPC, seems to be flirting(?) with my character, but I don't think too much of it at first, she is a young elven woman with blonde hair and silver eyes and everyone in the group has said that she's very pretty.

It isn't until one of the others who is also playing an elven character points out that they've been on the receiving end of essentially racism towards elves from NPCs who have simultaneously been showering my character with compliments that I start realizing how frequent and honestly rather obsessive it is, and as mentioned, just how many of the NPCs are doing it.

Then we get to T's character arc, exploring his character's backstory and helping them with things that come up. However, there are certain characters that are introduced that, out of character, T reacts rather negatively to, and when I ask him outside of session what's going on he confides in me that N is changing elements of his backstory that he'd told him he didn't want changing. As an example, T wrote that their character's mother was never part of their character's life growing up.

One of the characters we met was the character's mother, who was instead apparently a very prominent part of their life and cared greatly about them "not that they ever noticed". He also changed the character of T's father from "kind and caring man who did his best to raise his child alone and teach them how to defend themselves" to "stubborn, angry and neglectful father that is constantly disappointed in his son", which completely blindsided and upset T.

T also said that he'd tried talking to N about this but that the response had ended up being, to put it bluntly, "I'm the DM so I have the final say in things". This started to worry me, especially when I realized that N had never gotten back to me with his "proposed changes" to my backstory.

So I sent him a message, but because I didn't want to drag T into my own business with N I decided to say something along the lines of "hey, did you ever figure out what you wanted to change about my backstory?". He messaged back and said that he'd figured it out, but that things with school were so busy that he hadn't had time to sit down and properly write it all out to send to me yet, but assured me that he would by the time T's arc was over.

Several more months passed with no further word from N about my character's backstory, and as T's arc wraps up there's this idea that starts getting brought up, of how demons often exploit the grief of mortals to latch onto them and claim their souls by impersonating the dead person.

The others in the group all latch onto this and start speculating about how exactly the demons use impersonation to claim souls, except for T who gives me this rather worried look from across the table, and it suddenly hits me that this is probably meant to be the opening of my character arc.

I pull N aside after the game is over for the night and ask him directly if this is the opening to my character arc, and he says that it is, but not to worry because the demon thing is, to quote, "just being brought up to get the others interested". I remind him about what I told him about not wanting anything to change about who the pact was with and what it was for, and ask him again what changes he's made to my backstory.

He promises he'll have a full list to me by the start of next session, that we'll have time to sit down together and discuss it all even, and that he won't do anything I don't want him to do. Despite my concerns and the fact that he has already said several times he'll send me this list without doing it, I decide, like a fool, to trust him, even though in hindsight I had absolutely no reason to by this point.

The next session rolls around, and of course there's no list, instead a lot of NPCs who start voicing concern whenever my character brings up the fact she's a warlock, or her dead brother, especially if the pair come up in quick succession. One of the other characters figures out what's going on and asks if they can basically cast some sort of spell to determine if a demon's got control of my soul, which N agrees to, and the spell determines that yes, that's exactly what's going on.

I immediately confront N, mid-session, and tell him outright that this isn't fair, that I told him I didn't want him to change this part of my backstory, and I wanted him to change it back immediately or I wasn't going to play anymore. He started on this long-winded response basically summarizing as "I'm the DM, I can do what I want".

This is the part where I may be the asshole, because well, I saw red in that moment, and decided I not only wanted to follow through on my threat of quitting, but also do something to ensure that my point was driven home.

I fired off a quick message to T on my phone warning him what I was about to do, and while the others were talking about what to do to help me I loudly announced that my character was stabbing herself through the heart, which N had previously ruled would be an instant method of death if carried out.

Silence falls over the group. N tells me that I need to roll to see if I even hit, which I argue (with T backing me up) that if my character is willing to get hurt then it's automatically a hit. N tells me that I need to roll to see if I even pierce my heart. Okay, fine, I roll, and as luck would have it I roll a Nat 20. N attempts to send me just to death saves, but I remind him (again, with T backing me up) that he'd ruled that this was an instant death.

So then he tries to have an NPC cleric show up and revive my character, but T brings up that the soul has to be willing to return to life for that to work, and I immediately say that my character wouldn't even be able to consent to that if her soul was held by a demon, nor would she even be willing if she could. Then I tell N directly that he can consider this my official resignation from the group and walk out, and T follows along behind me after a few minutes.

Ever since then N's been blowing up my phone, fluctuating between begging for me to rejoin the group and promising that he'll do things differently this time, and calling me a selfish bastard for "ruining the fun". T still goes to sessions occasionally, though I think now it's just to spectate, and he's said that maybe things went a little far with the character death in hindsight. And honestly, I'm not exactly proud of how I acted now either.

TL;DR -- I joined a D&D campaign where the DM has made unwanted changes to my character's backstory, despite my attempts to communicate with him, so I retaliated by killing my character mid-session and refusing to let him revive her before quitting. AITA?

[hyuckswoman]

« yoo, how are you? » mark asks waiting by your desk as you collect your stuff 

« when did you even get there??? also we’ve been texting the whole time you know how i am » 

« my class ended a bit early so i waited by the door and when people were leaving i thought i’d just come in, also it’s called courtesy the whole asking how you’re doing, so stop complaining this is me being nice » mark says as you both head out of the class 

« righhtttt my bad sir , where are we going by the way? I don’t have classes for the rest of the day so I’m free if you want to hang out » you say 

« I told you to stop flirting with me, you’re getting desperate and it shows » mark jokes as you slightly punch his arm 

« we could grab lunch if you want to? also i don’t know where your friend is, i don’t think i saw him in your classroom but we can wait for him if you’d like » mark says looking around for hanbin you presume 

« Bin went to a party last night, he sent me a text this morning he’s wasted and hungover and basically skipped class so we don’t have to wait for him this time, also i wouldn’t act like I’m the one that likes you too much given how you practically begged me not to leave the music group » you said trying to get back at him. It was kinda annoying how he shrugged and told you that you were right without fighting back tho. 

« where the fuck are you taking me? this looks too expensive i don’t have that kind of money » you say as you guys near mark’s recommendation. you make a mental note to never trust the guy ever again when he tells you he knows a place

«  don’t worry, i got the bill » he says

« man, you’re as broke as I am don’t even pretend with this gentleman shit » you say laughing 

« dude you could’ve at least pretended for my ego, you suck. also it might look super fancy but it’s affordable don’t worry, not that i’d let you pay for your meal tho, i might be broke but I still know how to treat a lady thank you » he says holding the door of the establishment open for you 

«  I will wrestle you to the cash register don’t even play with me marcus lee » you say trailing behind him as he chuckles. you wonder if he’s making fun of your threat or if he’s laughing because of the nickname (the answer is both)

you were halfway through your meal when mark started to speak again 

« man.. isn’t it kinda crazy? » he says looking at you 

« what is? » you answer genuinely confused.. did this man think you’re sherlock holmes or something?? how would you know what he’s even talking about 

«  it’s kinda crazy how you, my diehard fan managed to be in the same music group as me. you hide your game pretty well though, sometimes i forget that you’re the president of my fan club » he says, you could see him holding back his laugh so hard. crazy how this man was openly making fun of you like that 

«  what happened to ‘let’s not talk about this ever again’? also, considering how you’ve been hyping me up these past few weeks i’d say that the roles have reversed and you’re my die hard fan now, you even said so yesterday » you reply 

« i never said any of that you are mistaking me for another man on your roster » mark answers

« let’s not lie like that we both remember the messages… and stop slut shaming me we are in public. and considering the amount of girls that want you i’d say you’re more likely to be the slut » you says hoping that’ll shut him up 

« ooo are you jealous that everybody wants me?? » he says. the answer is yes but you’ll never tell him that of course. 

« stop being so cocky before i slap that smirk off your face » you reply lowkey glaring at him

«  you didn’t deny it though » he says cockily. this man was aggravating you 

« god you’re becoming worse than hyuck. actually nevermind you are worse than hyuck constantly asking me for validation and compliments » you say smiling

« ouchhh okay i get it my bad, i’ll stop asking for validation and compliments the minute I’m 100% sure that I’m your favorite. also i don’t think it’s fair how donghyuck and jisung get to have cute nicknames while you call me marcus » he says kinda sulking 

« oh sorry my bad dork lee » you say laughing while he just gives you the middle finger « also i call you markie so you do have a cute nickname stop complaining and eat your food » you say as he just goes like « oooooh, that’s right » remembering the nickname you gave him. 

as you guys were finishing the meal you excused yourself to go to the toilet (little did he know you were actually paying the bill like the gentleman you are)

as you come back to the table you see mark trying to grab the waiter attention 

« what are you doing? stop doing that you’re giving me the ick » you say sitting back down 

« man fuck you, it’s not my fault nobody sees me i just want to pay the bill. and don’t fight me on this please » he says continuing his gesture to grab the staff’s attention 

« mark i paid the bill already that’s why no one is coming please stop » you say grabbing his hand to put it down 

« WHAT???!!!! » he replies 

« man… i can’t believe you paid the bill. next time’s one me tho » he says holding the door open for you to get out 

« is this an attempt to ask me out on a date? » you ask. yea that’s right. uno reverse bitch 

« sorry i don’t date fans » he replies. ooooooooh this man is 100% aggravating 

« by the way I texted you earlier to give you something but I’m really fucking nervous so I’ve been delaying it this whole time, but no more delaying shit I’ve got this I think. Also if you think it’s weird thennn pretend i never gave you shit ok? » he says sorta hyping himself up in the middle before opening his palm revealing a black guitar keychain 

you burst out laughing 

« I think this is worse than if you would’ve told me that you hated it. I’m literally contemplating suicide right now don’t even play with me » he says as you laugh even harder because his antics were really making it worse 

A few seconds later and in between giggles you decide to speak « no.. wait, i swear I’m not making fun of you, I swear I find this unbelievably sweet, you’ll understand why I’m laughing just give me a second » you say reaching into your bag pulling out a spiderman lego keychain you grabbed from the same store earlier to give to him as a present 

« this is for you, i bought it earlier because it reminded me of you, since you said you liked spiderman and since your twitter header is a lego character » you say finding it amusing how you both got each other a keychain

« dudeeee you need to stop doing this to me I’ll cry i love it so much, also look i got myself a guitar keychain to match yours » he says showing you the other keychain 

« i also got a keychain to match the one i got you hold on » you say showing yours 

« it’s crazy how we thought of the same thing tho, we’re like… spiritually connected » he says as the both of you start walking to head back to your apartment because even though you’ve been making fun of him for his gentleman antics, deep down (you didn’t even have to look hard to see it) mark was a good guy and no matter the time of day, he’s going to walk you back home.

you wonder if it’s because you like him but you know that if he keeps on acting the way he’s acting, this whole crush was going to be even worse than it is…

39. double matching

previous chapter masterlist

notes: ended this on sort of a cliffhanger lolll, also this is not proofread at all sooooo idk probably a bunch of mistakes i just cba

taglist : @imsiriuslyreal @iscocohere @simpforarmihn @replayenthusiast @lovm4rk @youreintheclubb @polarisjisung @sour-chaos @jising-jisang-jisung @aerivrs @multifandomania @tiddygang2020 @roseangelxfuma @skepvids @morkiee @yangasm @artstaeh @pussyslayerhd @bacons-thighs @bugcattie @leefullsun @jkslvsnella @alethea-moon @marvelahsobx @haechansbbg @katsukis1wife @winuvs @n0hyuck @whats-my-question @dojaejunging @hibernatinghamster @user7520 @m1dn1ghtv1olet @starwonb1n @lostinneocity @miniature-tragedy @llearlert @haezyhyuck @inosfavgf @bluesinfinities @calumsfringe @cigarettesafterjae @defzcl @delfdiary @minkyuncutie @bunnyjaycheoluwu @sofix-hc7

[enwoso]

ON EDGE - ella toone

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a little bit suggestive content!

ella was on edge. she had been a nervous reck all week, ever since she found out that this was the weekend that she was going to be meeting your family for the first time. she was trying to downplay it by saying that she wasn't nervous but you could see straight through that false persona she was acting out.

you had met ella's family, a few months into you and ella dating — it being after one of the derby games and considering they lived in manchester and the pair of you were playing for united well let's just say you had clicked very fast.

you were nervous the first time you met her family — it was a normal thing so you totally understood why she was acting the way she was.

you had the job all week of constantly assuring ella that she had nothing to worry about, your parents had heard all about ella — they felt as if they already knew everything about the brunette without even fully meeting the girl properly.

hearing the way you talk about the girl and how much adored her, and all the small little cute things ella would do for you to make you feel like the most special girl in the world. they had heard it all and to point out the obvious your whole family were also football fans so at least you would all have something to talk about over dinner.

your also had two brothers, tommy who was the oldest out the three of you by 2 years always trying to take the role of being the boss and then there was your younger brother lewis who had just turned 19 and behind you was probably the biggest football fan in the family.

your brothers both didn't and refused to believe you at first when you said that you were signing for united they thought you were just playing into the silly rumours that the transfer pages were spreading about you at the time.

even after the multiple instagram posts on the united's official instagram page with you being in the official kit they for some reason wouldn't believe you. you knew they were just doing it to wind you up and it was times like those that made you really wish you were an only child.

your mum and dad — specifically your mum who you were adamant was more excited to finally meet ella in person then she was to see her own daughter.

ever since you let it slip that you had a girlfriend over the phone just a few weeks into your relationship with ella, you had been bombarded with messages from both parents asking when they would finally meet her in person.

you on the other hand were excited for your two worlds to finally meet not having seen your parents in 3 months since they were last able to find the time to get down to manchester to watch you play as they lived in london

which did make it difficult for them to watch but you knew they were always your biggest supporter weather they were in attendance or not.

you had been waiting for this day to come for what felt like years having to reschedule many times due to last minutes meetings, training camps, match days or press days it had become quite difficult to even set out a day and part of you at one point was convinced it would never happen.

you wanted your parents to meet ella properly and not on the side of a pitch in the porting rain while you both looked tired and longed for nothing but a warm shower.

so when the idea of your family finding a few spare days where they were able to come up and stay with you and your beloved girlfriend and even the plus side of watching you play again in person seemed like the perfect way.

after just getting out of the shower, you were drying your hair as the door of your shared room flung open as ella waltzed in and you could tell her mind was racing.

"what's wrong, darling?" you asked turning the hair dryer off, and swinging around in the vanity chair to face ella who had flopped down on the bed face first, letting a huge dramatic sigh out.

"nothin'" she mumbled out, it being blurred out by the fact she was talking into the bed sheets. a small giggle left your lips at the sight of her dramatics.

"love c'mon, your gonna be fine!" you said moving the chair closer to the bed, pulling at her ankles to pull ella down the bed as she groaned trying to move back up the bed.

ella turned over onto her back, "i am fine, i'm cool, calm and collected!" she sat up and flashed you a smile before crashing back into the sheets her hands going up to cover her face, a loud groan coming from her as she did so.

"so which one was that cool, calm or collected?" you joked earning yourself a roll of the eyes from the brunette as you moved off the chair and onto your shared bed lying down next to ella.

a big huff was heard from beside you as her hands dropped from her face and turned her head to you, "i've decided i can't meet your parents" ella says talking quicker then you can comprehend what she is actually saying — here we go again.

"what? why this time?" you ask, this being the hundredth time it felt that she was trying to get out of meeting your family.

"i just can't, i'll just say up here and you can tell them i'm-" footballers these days not only dramatic on the pitch but even more dramatic off the pitch and over the smallest of things ever.

you cut her off, "els! baby you'll be fine they love you already and they haven't even met you properly, plus i don't think my mum will be happy if she turns up and your not here with me — she more excited to see you then she is me!" you told her as a small smile crept onto her face.

"she is?" she asks, seeming surprised by you saying that.

"yes! every message i get from her always involves your name too — how are you and ella, don't forget to tell ella i said hi all that jazz, half the time she doesn’t even ask about me!" you said telling her only a few of the messages your received on the daily from your mum.

it sometimes amazes you how she can be so calm over playing a match in front of thousands of people but then can go to acting like a scared child over meeting your parents.

"oh.." she mumbled that seemingly put some ease to her nerves.

a silence crept over the two of you as your wrapped your arm over ella's waist, "what?" you asked feeling ella's eyes staring at you.

"nothin’ you just look pretty" she shook her head, rolling over so that she hovered over you looking at you with nothing but adoration even if your hair was half dry and half wet in ella's eyes you always looked beautiful.

a small giggle left your lips as you hummed in response your eyebrows lifting a little, "wait a second" ella said still hovering over you this time a little closer to your face.

"why?"

"i just need-" she cut herself off by closing the distance between the two of you, pressing you a little deeper into the white sheets as her lips locked with yours delivering a bruisingly passionate kiss. "-to do this" the brunette breathed out finishing her sentence while giving you a moment to catch your breathe.

just as her hand gripped your jaw and tugged your mouth to meet hers again. you couldn't help but moan into her mouth as she pressed her body closer to yours her knee pressing teasingly into you as she slipped her tongue in and swirled it around.

the midfielder knowing exactly how to rile you up as she sucked down hard on your bottom lip as your head pressed into the bed further with a beefy whine.

not even giving you a moment to process anything she pulled away and lips instead began to move down towards your neck pressing small and soft kisses as she did so.

her affections were clearly needy and messy as her fingers snuck up the inside of your t-shirt, her strong hands flattening against the bare skin and pushing you harder into the bed so she felt your and contract and tense under her every touch.

"els-" you mumbled out against her lips pulling away from her as best you could, "i need to finish getting ready" you said as ella pulled away resting her head on your shoulder.

"can we not just stay like this" she asks as she wraps her arms around your waist holding you tight as she places a small kiss behind your ear.

"as much as i would love too, me and you both know we can't" you smile kissing her forehead as she lifts up off you as you stood up to go back to drying your hair before it became too frizzy knowing it wouldn't be long until your parents and brothers would be here.

"wait, love-" ella began but before you even gave her a chance to get her worry out you stopped her.

"love, stop stressing. i'm not feeding you to the lions i'm gonna be there with you, holding your hand if you want me too!" you teased reaching over to squeeze her knee in reassurance as you got back to doing what you were previously doing beforehand.

as ella whispered that she was going to watch tv downstairs, placing a kiss to your cheek before leaving you to get ready in peace.

after getting ready you went downstairs to find ella sat on the couch her leg bouncing up and down, flinching at any sudden movement thinking it was the sound of the door.

when there was a knock at the door, she jumped up following you to the door like a little lost puppy

"oh thank god this is your house!" your brother sighed with relief walking straight into your home, not saying hello to you but instead making sure to introduce themselves to your girlfriend — at this point you were sure they had only come to see her. you could leave in that moment and they probably wouldn't even notice.

"hi tommy!" you said blankly, watching as he walked down your hallway throwing his arm up at an attempt to wave, you turning your attention to your parents and younger brother who had his headphones in looking down at his phone probably not even realising that you had opened the door.

moving out the way for your parents to be able to walk in the door with there luggage, which you just moved to one side. "hi mum" you smiled, wrapping your arms around her.

"oh my little girl, you look so grown up! manchester must be treating you well!" her smile couldn't get any bigger seeing her daughter follow her dreams and to be living happy was truly beautiful to her.

"hi dad!" you greeted him, hugging him too as your mum went over and engulfed ella into a big hug and said her hellos too.

"hi buttercup" he said, the old nickname which he gave you when you were little, only because you had a little patch in your garden back in london which used to grow buttercups and when you were little you would always pick them and bring them to mainly your dad but also your mum. so your dad gave you the nickname and ever since it had just stuck.

you rolled your eyes turning around knowing ella would tease you about the nickname your family had for you, "don't even" you pointed to her as ella raised her hands in defence as she tried her best not to laugh.

you went and said your hellos to your younger brother, lewis who had now realised that you were stood in front of him and the two of you caught up a little alongside tommy who had finished raiding you kitchen cupboards for now, and finally came over to say hello as it gave you a chance to find the in and outs of what they had been doing since the last time you saw them as ella spoke with your parents.

"you make our little buttercup so happy, she's told us all about you!" you heard your dad say as he had now made himself comfy in your living room.

"only good things i hope, but i definitely got lucky!" ella said sitting down opposite your mum and dad, looking over at you a big grin appearing on her face as you walked into the room.

she did believe that she got lucky and she had never been the one to believe in 'the one' or 'soulmates' or anything like that but she definitely believed that you and her were soulmates.

you sat down next to ella your arm wrapping around her shoulders pulling her closer to you. your brothers having been left to their own devices in your kitchen, more than likely raiding your cupboards after guilt tripping you: "but y/n it was such a long journey!" in there stupid sappy voice.

"so ella-" your dad began however was cut off by your two brothers coming in arms filled with pretty much every snack they could of possibly of found in your kitchen.

"seriously!" you had cut your dad off, as your two brothers sat on the couch next to your parents, releasing the snacks from their arms. "your not very good at hiding the crisps by the way" lewis smiled, your favourite crisps that you had been saving for a cheat day in his arms.

"i actually hate you- but anyways this is my older brother tommy.." you pointed out to the boy who already had his mouth filled with popcorn as he smiled over to ella, a little hi and wave coming from him.

"and my annoying little brother lewis" you smiled sarcastically towards lewis who shrugged digging into your crisps.

"ella, you could have done so much better than the mug that is my sister!" lewis said, receiving a flap to the back of his head by your dad as you rolled your eyes at your brother, ella just laughing along with the joke.

"she's not all that bad" ella joked, receiving a small dig to the ribs from your as she held onto her side a whisper of an ow coming from the brunette.

the next hour was spent, talking as your mum and dad got to know ella better - even though they didn’t think that was possible because of how much you had already told them over the phone. but with that came with the embarrassing story’s from your childhood and your brothers winding you up.

with that came along the football talk which went on for hours but something you didn’t mind talking about at least it saved you from any more embarrassing stories being told but nevertheless your smile never left your face, as watching your girlfriend interact with your family and get along with so well was all you could ask for in life.

“have you come to help or be a distraction?” ella giggled as she was helping your mum dish up the dinner you had prepared earlier, as you had wandered into the kitchen wrapping your arms around the ella’s waist.

“i always help!” you sighed rested your head on her shoulder as your mum scoffed jokingly. “no the boys aren’t sharing the controller!” you frowned as both your mum and ella began to laugh.

“you didn’t really think you were gonna get a chance of playing when they haven’t played on fifa for the whole journey here!” your mum said looking at you with raised eyebrows as your frown deepened and a big huff coming from you.

“well i thought you know because it’s MY house-“ you began as ella coughed, “sorry OUR house, that they would give me a go on my games!” you complained as ella shook her head at your complaints.

“it’s okay you play on it tomorrow” ella reassured, turning to kiss you on the cheek. as you stayed clinged to your girlfriends waist, your hands wandering up her united hoodie she was wearing.

“i love you baby, but can you let go cause i can’t move” ella whispered in your ear, putting down the spoon she was using to dish up food on the counter and gently prying your hands away from her bare skin. pecking you quickly on the lips as ella moved to where your mum was at the other side of the kitchen.

“can you go and tell your brothers and your dad that dinner is ready?” you mum asked as you stood leaning against the counter dipping your finger in the pudding ella had been making.

mumbling a yes as you retreated from the kitchen, groaning internally at the thought of having to pull them away from the game - knowing it would take a while.

you walked into the living room, all three of them with controller, part of you was contemplating standing there and seeing how long it would actually take for them to notice you but then again you would most likely be stood there all night!

instead you flapped lewis on the head with a cushion, “what-“ he said screaming as tommy and your dad looked behind them where you were stood beginning to laugh. “you joking, i’ve just lost because of you!” as lewis threw the controller to the side of the couch.

“boo hoo, karma for not letting me play!” you sarcastically smiled, “dinners ready by the way” as you walked out the room hearing them complain to each other how the other actually won.

Your dad and brothers coming into the dining room almost seconds after you, as your brothers both looked at each, “did you cook?” they ask almost in sync as you nodded confused at what they were trying to get at.

"yeah, i'm no longer hungry" tommy says as you gasp as ella and your parents are stifling their laugh.

“i’ll have you find, i’m a very good cook. aren’t i els?” you said, actually taking offence to what your brothers said. looking over at ella for back up as she hesitantly agreed.

you scoffed, "you can all starve for all i care then!"

sitting down at the table next to ella, as small talk began inbetween eating the food you had made. the odd topic about life in manchester and what yours and ella’s future plans were — which when brought up you didn’t really know what to say.

of course you and ella had talked about eventually getting married, starting a family but right now everything was perfect. nothing needed to be added and nothing needed to change. everything was perfect.

“i hate to admit this but that was actually quite nice” tommy admitted, finishing his meal you had made after he insulted your cooked, lewis and your parents both agreeing.

ella already knew what you had made was going to be nice considering you make it quite often for the two of you — usually on your recovery days.

“told you!” you smile to yourself in satisfaction - there was no better feeling than proving someone wrong but the someone being your brothers made it that little bit sweeter.

“definitely better than the cake you made for mum on mother’s day when you put salt instead of sugar in it” you dad poked fun, as the memory came back to you. your smile disappearing as quick at it came.

“in my defence i was fifteen” you defended yourself as you could hear ella beside you giggling. it was generally a honest mistake because which idiot even decided to put the salt bowl and the sugar bowl next to each other? someone was bound to get them mixed up and it just happened to be you.

“here was me about to ask you to make me a cake for my birthday!” ella joked, her hand resting on your thigh as she leant into you laughing along side your family.

before you joined in. you couldn’t stay mad at ella. you two worlds had jelled just the way you hoped and that was enough, even if it meant you would be the butt of some jokes but you couldn’t win every battle.

liked by millieturner and 748,013 others

ellatoone meet the parents? completed it mate!

comments -

alessia finally got over your fear i see?

1h 103 likes     reply

-> ellatoone what? i wasn’t scared?

-> yourusername mhm keep telling yourself that baby

lewis91 hello ella👋🏻

24m 217 likes     reply

-> ellatoone you sound like a bot?

[puck-luck]

okay since you wanted requests to switch it up a bit.. could you write trevor zegras x fem!reader smut where his gf is less experienced than him and wants to give him head but she’s never done it before so he guides her through it 🫣

other requests: “could you write a smut with some fluff in it too, with trevor zegras walking his gf through giving him head because it’s her first time and she’s nervous/doesn’t know what to do”, “obsessed with the idea of trevor zegras talking his gf through how to give him head when it’s her first time and she’s nervous about not knowing what to do.. like literally giving her instructions throughout, with lots of praise and reassurance, but also dirty talk bc let’s be real, it’s trevor.” warnings: oral (f and m receiving), dirty talk, inexperienced reader x experienced partner, praise, coming on face, masturbation joke warnings: tw: los angeles angels (i prefer the dodgers), in a world where tz never broke his ankle during the 2023-2024 season… pairing: trevor zegras x inexperienced!fem!reader summary: see requests above. wc: 3089

Trevor Zegras was the most giving, patient man you had ever known. Maybe his patience came from having younger siblings, but it was more likely that it came from years and years of working with teammates in a cutthroat sport. You had grown up watching hockey, gaining intimate knowledge of the sport when you had started dating Trevor. Trevor, in exchange, found himself more than knowledgeable about baseball, the sport of your choice, than he ever needed to be.

You two had met when you came to Anaheim, having graduated a year early from college with a degree in Sports Marketing. You had landed a job with the Los Angeles Angels, which had relocated you to the area, and you couldn’t imagine your life going any other way. There were times when you missed your family and missed home, but once you had gotten settled into your job and you had met Trevor, Anaheim started to feel like the home you’d been destined to find.

Anaheim was also an escape from your hometown– a place where, despite your best efforts, you did not feel welcome. You had told Trevor early in your relationship about your lack of experience sexually and tried to explain it away with a long-winded story about being a “weird kid,” but Trevor had brushed it off and told you he didn’t mind your inexperience. He was happy, he said, to teach you everything he could. All you had to do was say the word.

So, you’d worked up to it. You’d slept in the same bed, touched him, and he had touched you. Hockey season had helped the pace of your relationship, with Trevor traveling almost every other week. He was gone for two weeks straight in January, traveling from coast to coast, and it was then that you had shyly admitted to him through the tinny speaker of your phone how badly you wanted to suck him off.

He had fumbled with the phone, groaning at the idea alone of your mouth around his length, and it had resulted in a long FaceTime call in which you watched him fuck into his hand, telling you how much better it would feel if it was your mouth.

It was the Monday night after they had come back. Trevor had had a game on Sunday at Honda Center against the Rangers and spent the night at his place because it was closer to the rink. As much as he was itching to see you, and your heart was beating out of your chest at the idea of seeing him and going through with blowing him, you were scared. Trevor knew that you were nervous, the anticipation was getting to you, just from the way you were texting. The messages were shorter. You weren’t initiating conversation as much. The times between your responses were longer.

It didn’t matter, though. He was coming over tonight.He was going to cook you dinner. He was going to set the mood. He was going to make you comfortable if it was the last thing that he did, and if it meant that you wouldn’t get your mouth on him at all, he was okay with that.

Trevor arrived at your apartment about an hour after you got off work. Spring training was starting in just a month, so things were starting to pick up for you. You were stressed, plenty of tasks on your plate and most of them half-finished. A relaxing dinner with your boyfriend was going to provide a needed distraction.

Trevor had let himself into the apartment and was already pan-searing some cubed potatoes when you got out of the shower. He was in complete boyfriend mode, having stolen your apron and thrown it over his bare chest. You could see his tattoos from where you were standing, the ones littering his arms and the delicate one on his ribs, and you smiled. 

He seemed like a tough guy, your boyfriend. He had the tattoos, the athletic ability, the sculpted form and ridged muscles of an athlete. Anyone who saw him in the supermarket might think he’s an asshole, but the second they get a good look at him, they’ll realize that he’s just a softie. He tied a delicate bow around the curve of his waist in your baby blue and frilly apron. 

“I can feel you looking at me,” Trevor said. You watched his bicep ripple as he moved the potatoes around the pan with a spatula. He threw a glance over his shoulder. “Oh, good, you’re actually there. Could you imagine me saying that to the air?”

“I can, actually,” You replied with a laugh. You walked over and hugged Trevor from behind, arms wrapped solidly around his figure as you squished your cheek against his back. “I bet you did.”

Trevor sputtered out a denial, shaking his head. He relented just seconds later, unable to keep up the bit. “You’re right. I thought you were there like two minutes before you actually were.”

You giggled and pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades.

Trevor placed the spatula down on the counter, then turned the burner off and moved the pan to a different spot on the cooktop. He turned in your arms, inching over just a bit so that you were trapping him against the counter, not the oven. He gasped, reaching up and cradling your face in the palms of his hands.

“What?” You asked.

“You’ve gotten even prettier in the two weeks that I haven’t seen you,” He marveled, tilting your head from side to side as you rolled your eyes.

You pushed away from him, walking out of the kitchen. 

Trevor trailed behind you like a puppy.

“You’re a loser,” You said.

“I love my pretty girlfriend,” Trevor replied. 

As you passed the couch in your living room, Trevor tackled you over the arm of the object and you fell onto the cushions. You shrieked at the contact, at the fall, and squirmed in Trevor’s grip as he kissed over your neck and face. His fingers were digging into your sides, causing you to giggle and snort between breaths. Trevor was relentless, until he decided to plant a kiss on your lips.

He captured your lips with intent, slowly slotting your bottom lip between his. Trevor always kissed you with purpose, slow, like he was trying to memorize you. He slid his mouth into your tongue like he was trying to lap up your sweetness, keep it on his tongue until he could place your taste and replicate it in a dish or a drink, something he’d be willing to consume every day for the rest of his life. You liked most when he nibbled on your bottom lip before pulling away, something that was so trademark Trevor that it made you breathless. He would always pull back just to look at you, to push your hair out of your face, before diving back in.

He kissed you so gently, so sweetly, that when you felt his bulge press against you, you were almost caught off guard.

“Been thinking about you,” Trevor purred against your lips. “About what you said the other day.”

You froze and Trevor pulled away, hovering over you. He searched your face carefully.

“We don’t have to,” He reassured you. “You know we don’t have to. I’d never make you.”

“I want to,” You replied, voice small. “I’m just… scared.”

“Scared of what?” Trevor asked. 

“What if I gag and I throw up all over you?” You cringed at the mere thought. “I’ll die if that happens.”

Trevor stifled a laugh. “I’ll shower and I’ll wait two weeks before letting you near my dick with your mouth again,” He answered, an easy smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

You pouted at him. “You’re not taking this seriously.”

“I am!” He protested. “Baby, you’re not going to throw up on my dick.”

“What if I do?”

“I just told you what we’d do if you threw up on my dick!”

“Okay, well, you’re not being very supportive of my fears.”

Trevor sighed and placed his hands on your shoulders. He stared deeply into your eyes. “I understand you are afraid of vomiting on my penis. I assure you, that will not happen.”

“How can you be so sure?” You whined.

“It’s never happened before,” Trevor said. He leaned down to kiss the spot under your ear. “Plus, baby, I’m going to go so slow that you’ll be begging for more by the end of it.”

A shiver ran down your spine at that, the way he whispered the words in your ear so his hot breath danced over your skin igniting a flame between your legs. 

“Why don’t,” Trevor began, his hand making his way to your clothed mound, “I show you just how good getting head would make me feel?”

His deft fingers rubbed in circles over your clit, the pressure just intense enough to make you moan.

“Would you like that? I’ll get my tongue on you, make you come once, maybe twice…” Trevor kissed you, his lips sliding over yours, his tongue teasing its way into your mouth then out of it. “And then we can revisit the idea of getting your mouth on me?”

“Yeah,” You agreed lamely, the heat between your legs growing more slick with each circle of his fingers and each wet kiss. 

Trevor stood from where he was lain on top of you. He untied your apron, which you had almost forgotten he was wearing, and tossed it to the side. He grabbed under your knees and dragged you down towards the arm of the couch, throwing one leg over the arm and setting your other foot on the floor. He kept a hand on that knee, rubbing smooth lines up and down your skin with his thumb. With his other hand, he traced the line of your folds through the fabric of your sweat-shorts.

 They were a loose pair, gray and almost threadbare after years of washes and use. The fabric of the shorts was the thinnest barrier Trevor could have faced. You could have put on panties when you got out of the shower, but had opted just for these shorts instead. They were more comfortable. Now, they were just something stopping him from getting his mouth on you.

Except, it didn’t stop him. 

Trevor mouthed over your clit, giving it an open-mouthed kiss. You whimpered at the shock that it sent up your body, causing your fingertips to twitch at your side. He ran his tongue over the length of your pussy and chuckled to himself when your hips jumped beneath him. 

“Relax, honey,” Trevor said, his words muffled because he was still pressed against you. “Relax and enjoy.”

His fingers came up and moved your shorts out of the way, revealing you to him. Chastely, he kissed your folds, then pointedly blew cold air over your entrance. 

“Trev,” You let out, reaching a hand towards his, still rubbing on your knee. He intertwined his fingers with yours, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. 

Trevor licked his way up to your clit again, capturing it between his lips and sucking. He rolled the bud on his tongue, causing your hips to lift again. “Be good,” He told you, voice low. His eyes were closed as he continued to lick over you, practically french kissing your lower lips the same way he would the ones on your face.

It was a gradual build, the coil in your stomach tightening. You squeezed Trevor’s hand and ground down on his tongue. He flattened his tongue against your clit, letting you hump it, before he tensed it at your entrance and prodded his way into you. He flicked the muscle fast, and the sensation was all too much for you. 

You came undone with a loud cry, your thighs closing around Trevor’s head involuntarily. 

He continued to lap at your release, cleaning you up and only stopping when you relaxed beneath him and pushed him away.

“How was that?” Trevor asked, his face level with yours. 

You reached out and looped your arms around his neck, dragging him forward until your lips crashed against his. This kiss, at your direction, was much more passionate. You could taste yourself on his tongue and you moaned into his mouth. You turned, pushing at Trevor until he was the one seated on the couch. You found yourself on his lap, grinding down on his bulge.

“So you liked it?” Trevor asked.

You let out a laugh and sucked a hickey under his jaw. “Teach me how to make you feel good like that.”

Trevor shuddered when you scraped your teeth over his pulse point. “On your knees,” He told you. He guided you, with a hand on your shoulder, between his legs.

The sight of you there, feet tucked prettily under you, hands clasped in front of you, has Trevor’s dick twitching in his pants.

“Take my dick out, baby,” Trevor said, his voice soft but firm.

He lifted his hips as you pulled at his shorts. They pooled around his ankles, leaving him in just his briefs.

“Give me your hand.”

You reached up and he took your wrist, guiding your hand toward his bulge. He let your hand rest just to the side of him.

“Touch me. Over my pants.”

You traced the line of his dick over his pants, biting your lip when it jumped under your finger. You palmed him, fitting your hand over the curve of him and beginning to rub him up and down.

Trevor’s head tilted back and he let out a groan. “Faster.”

You sped up, just as he had asked you to, bringing your other hand up to cradle his balls.

“Fuck,” Trevor moaned, inadvertently tipping his hips up into your hand. “Take it out.”

You rushed to do so, scraping your nails against his sides when you pulled at his waistband. Trevor hissed at that, but didn’t say anything. When his dick was revealed to you, standing proud and dripping from the tip, you took it in your hand and leaned down to hesitantly lick his slit.

Trevor’s hands flew to your hair, the strands falling between his fingers. “Again,” He breathed out, eyes wide.

You licked his tip again, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“Oh my God,” Trevor drawled out, borderline whimpering. “Baby, fuck, please.”

You smiled, proud of yourself for reducing him from someone who was so sure of himself and so loud to someone who is whining just from your touch. You circled your lips around his lip, sucking lightly.

His dick twitched. “So good,” Trevor praised. “Can you take more?”

You nodded out of instinct, but the sensation made him garble out an unintelligible string of words. You sunk down lower on his dick, feeling your lips stretch as you take him down your throat. You bobbed your head up and down slowly, feeling how he slid in and out of you. The taste of him on your tongue was addicting– salty and just so man. You moaned, the vibrations enveloping Trevor’s dick in a way that made him buck up into your throat. You gagged, a tear forming on your waterline.

Trevor grabbed your hair and pulled you up, just barely off the head of his dick. 

“You okay?” He asked. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you gag.”

You cleared your throat and nodded. “You taste so good, Trevor.” Trevor’s jaw dropped at the tone of your voice, light and innocent and sexy because it was worn with use. 

“Fuck, suck me again, just take it,” Trevor encouraged, gathering your hair into a ponytail.

You lowered your mouth onto Trevor again, tracing your tongue over the vein on the underside of his dick. You used one hand to pump the part of his dick that you couldn’t fit into your mouth. You bobbed up and down, covering your teeth as best you could, but Trevor relished in the ghost of a scrape over his member when you got caught up in the moment.

He was groaning, babbling above you, his abs flexing as he drowned in pleasure. His face was flushed and you whined when you saw the mark that you left on his sharp jawline.

“Baby, you’re so good,” Trevor groaned. “You’re gonna make me come.”

You reached a hand down into your shorts and fingered furiously over your clit, swooning with the sensation there and of the weight on your tongue.

Trevor leaned forward and spotted your movements, saw your hand moving from inside your shorts. “Oh my God, fuck, yeah, make yourself come, too, baby…”

You gave it your all, twisting your hand around the length of Trevor that wasn’t inside your mouth. Drool slid out of your mouth, offering plenty of lubrication for your hand, making it easier to jerk him.

“God, fucking– baby, let me come on your face. Please, wanna see it on you,” Trevor begged.

He said it right as your fingers teased your entrance in just the right way, and you came for the second time that night, kneeling on the carpet for your boyfriend’s pleasure. 

You pulled off of Trevor, but kept your mouth open, sticking your tongue out. He took his dick in his hand and jacked himself off quickly, hand flying over his length. 

“Close your eyes,” Trevor warned, panting like he couldn’t catch his breath. “Don’t– fuck– don’t want to get my come in your eye.”

You obeyed him, reluctantly losing sight of his figure. There would be plenty of other times where you could watch his face contort with the bliss of his orgasm, but it’s nothing compared to the feeling of his hot, sticky come fall on your cheeks before Trevor aims his release at your tongue. 

“God, Y/N,” Trevor groaned out. “I kind of want to take a picture of you like this.”

“Can I open my eyes?” You asked, “Wanna look up at you.”

“Yeah,” Trevor agreed, eyes fluttering as he took in the sight of you with his come on your face. When your eyes opened and met his, he felt himself starting to harden again. “Now I really want to take a picture.”

You wiped some of the come off of your cheek with your thumb before licking it off the digit. “Next time. I believe you promised me a home cooked dinner.”

notes: dear trevor zegras, i <3 you and think we could really get up to no good if you'd just give me a look. also, i wrote this at work. also, also, my coworker was sitting next to me and one of the elderly ladies asked me what i was typing. no comment.

[6ix9inewiturmom]

The Scare- Chris Sturniolo

Summary: you end up having one of the biggest pregnancy scares of your life while chris is in boston

Warnings: Cursing, Crying, use of Y/N, talks of sex, taking a pregnancy test

A/n: may be tmi but lowkey relate to this so this was easy to write LMFAOO, ENJOY

PSA: DO NOT USE MY WORK FOR “inspiration” OR ANYTHING ELSE!!

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

Chris has been in Boston for the last 2 weeks, and he's finally coming home. I decided to shower and shave before he came home because that man is the most sexually active 20-year-old I've ever met, the Facetime sex at 3 am for him isn't nearly enough to satisfy both of our needs.

After my hour-long shower, I'm digging through my shared bathroom with Chris in an attempt to find my body lotion to prevent my dry ass skin in this heat when I find my box of tampons, which got me thinking I haven't had a period in a while and Chris and I aren't the safest people when it comes to sex because neither of us can even remember to put a condom on, it always fucks up my mood.

“Shit,” I say to my self.

Chris and I are only 20 and with his career there's no fucking way in HELL we can have a kid or even raise a kid, I am nowhere near ready to raise an actual child.

I open my Flo app and see the little circle that's normally red is grey ‘1 week late’

“Shit shit shit,” I say out loud again, panicking.

I can't keep it from him, he's gonna see the pregnancy test in the trash. Would he be mad if I kept it from him? Should I just tell him? Should I go to Tara?

After about 30 minutes of standing in the bathroom looking at the message in my phone, panicking about what to do, I just decided I was gonna tell Chris, he loves me, and we've talked about having kids way later in life anyway, he couldn't be mad.

I finally built up the courage and got dressed in a pair of tight ripped jeans and a baby tee, with some Converse, and sat on the couch waiting for Chris to come home going through Tiktok and whatever else was on my phone.

“BABY IM HOME” Chris yells from the stairs

I squeal in excitement as I spot Chris and run towards him. Jumping into his arms, he effortlessly lifts me, allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist.

“Umm Y/N there are other people here too you know? Also, Chris get out of the fucking way so we can fucking put our shit down” Nick says in annoyance.

“Well hello to you too Nick,” I say jumping out of Chris’ arms moving out of the doorway, and letting Matt and Nick come inside the house.

“Sorry babes, we've all been up since about 6 am Boston time trying to catch our flight we almost missed because your fucking boyfriend wouldn't get the hell out of bed” Nick replies sending me a soft smile and giving me a soft hug.

“To be fair none of us went to bed at a decent time, mom was making sure we had everything packed so we didn't leave anything behind” matt defends.

“Thank you, Matt, now Y/N do you wanna take a nap? I know we were gonna go out to dinner but I'm very fucking jet lagged and kinda just want to order dinner and watch movies with you” Chris wraps his arms around my waist nuzzling his head between my neck as my hands rest on his shoulders.

“Thats fine with me i don't mind” i pull away from his embrace and smile at him.

Chris grabs his luggage and my hand and guides me to our shared bedroom. As we enter the room he seats his luggage down and plops on the bed letting out a groan of frustration.

“I have missed this damn bed, don't ask me how I slept in that bed at my mom's house for god knows how long because this one is so much more comfortable,” Chris says adjusting the way he's laying to rest his head down on the pillows. “Now after 2 weeks of no sex and just my right hand, I'm gonna need to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you” he smirks at me patting his lap and signaling me to sit on it.

“Yeah so about that” give him an awkward smile “So I didn't know how to approach this to you, 'cause you know we're not the most responsible sexually active humans” I start babbling getting nervous of his reaction based on the puzzled look on his face.

“Y/N what the hell are you getting at? cause if you don’t wanna have sex with me right now that’s fine just say that, but considering our last facetime call the constant ‘oh chris i need your cock’ was really misleading to me” he says with a puzzled faced.

“Chris i’m late” i breathe out.

“late for what? did we have reservations for dinner? did you have something for work?” he says with frustration in his voice.

“No Chris my period, I'm late, my period is LATE, I'm 1 week late today,” I say aggressively from his lack of acknowledgement.

“wait we haven’t had sex in 2 weeks? i’m confused” he sits up moving to the edge of the bed.

“last time we had sex i was ovulating, remember when i told you like a while ago that if im ovulating means im FERTILE?” i say in frustration.

“Fuck” he runs his fingers through his hair “Did you take a test? Do you know for sure that you are pregnant?” he questions

“No, and no, I didn't wanna take a test without you, and I for SURE didn't wanna hide it from you,” I say softly sitting next to him on the bed.

“So why the hell are you freaking out now? You don't know for sure that you are” he asks placing his head in his hands.

“Because you and I are nowhere near ready for a fucking kid Chris, your career, and my inability to even fucking care for myself some days, yeah there's no fucking way I can care for a child who can't even speak on its emotions, Chris” I stand up out of frustration and start pacing.

I can tell Chris obviously got upset with my statement about our ability to care for a child but i was stressed and honestly wasn't thinking.

"I want you to know that I care about you deeply, Y/N. If you are indeed pregnant, please know that I will do everything in my power to support you and our child. Even if it means giving up my career, I will do it willingly. Let's go get a pregnancy test and we can talk about everything else later, okay? I am here for you, and I will always be." he says, his voice filled with empathy and understanding as he gently cups my cheeks in his hands, rubbing them softly up and down and warm smile spreads across his face.

As our eyes meet, a warm smile spreads across his face and I can't help but return it. He takes my hand in his and gently guides me towards the living room, his grip firm yet gentle. The coolness of his skin against mine sends shivers down my spine.

“Girl, were you guys arguing? Normally after we come home from Boston it's all ‘Oh Chris more, more’ typically a traumatic event” Nick says mocking me with a smile plastered across his face.

“Y/N and I are running to CVS so well be back in a little,” Chris says walking him and me down the stairs and to my car.

The drive to CVS was filled with a bunch of conversations and laughter, talking about if I was pregnant how we would raise our child, and Chris talking about the dad jokes he's gonna have, and considering he's a triplet he carries the genetic that I'm probably gonna twins or triplets.

“How many of these things do we need? What brand is best? why are there so many options?” Chris says holding 3 boxes of pregnancy tests and struggling to figure out which one to pick “fuck it why don't we buy all of them and use one pack tonight then we'll have the extra on hand in case our irresponsibility gets the best of us” he continues.

Chris and I walked up to the front counter and dropped the boxes of tests. The worker behind the counter took a look at the tests and then looked back at us, giving us a fake smile. After ringing up the purchase, we made our way to my car.

“So do you think you are pregnant?” Chris says breaking the silence.

“I mean normally my cycles are normal and a week late is not normal at all but it could be my hormones changing or something, but I do wanna make sure,” I say glancing at Chris nervously biting his nails.

“You were right about how irresponsible we are with our sex lives but when we first started fucking we knew the risk of everything and I mean our kids would be pretty cute,” he says placing his hand on my leg and rubbing a small circle with his thumb.

Chris and I pulled up into the driveway. As we got out of the car, he held my hand tightly and carried the CVS bag in the other hand as we made our way into the house and up the staircase.

“did you get any snacks?” Nick says eating a bowl of popcorn on the couch with Matt watching the most random movie on Netflix.

“Uhm no I just got a couple of personal things” I say nervously holding up the bag and sending a warm smile to Nick.

Chris and I pretty much B lined to the bathroom, anxiously “So which one do we use?” Chris says looking down at the boxes.

“Just give me the one that says Clearblue” i say softly laughing as Chris opens the box for me and inspects it before handing me the little stick.

“Do you want me to hold the stick while you piss? I'm sorry I have no idea how these things work” he says laughing allowing his back to slide down the wall and sit with his back against the shower door.

“Chris it's fine i know how to use these, believe me my friends in highschool weren't the most responsible either” I say laughing beginning to pee on the little white and blue stick.

“So how long do we wait?” Chris says helping me take a seat on the floor next to him.

“5 minutes” I breathe out setting a 5-minute timer on my phone and leaning my head against the shower door.

As we sat in the bathroom, waiting for the pregnancy test to show its result, the silence felt palpable. It wasn't an awkward silence, but rather a deafening one that seemed to fill the entire room. With just the two of us present, we anxiously waited for the five minutes to pass.

“Would it be a bad thing if I wanted it to be positive?” Chris chuckles.

“I wouldn't necessarily say a bad thing, there's a part of me that kind of wants it to be positive too” i smile back at Chris.

The alarm on my phone quickly broke the once-loving moment sending us into a panic. Chris and I stand up walking to the counter.

“Wait should we film it in case you are then we could always have it if you could be pregnant?” Chris’ gaze softens as he looks at me.

“Chris not the time” I softly laugh out.

“Right,” he nods smiling back at me. “WAIT” he grabs my hand “Whatever happens, I love you,” he says in a serious tone.

With a warm smile, I gaze lovingly at him and reciprocate his affectionate words, "I love you too Christopher." However, my attention is quickly drawn towards the counter where the pregnancy test lays face down, taunting my nerves. With trembling hands, I muster up the courage to pick it up and slowly turn it around to face me, my heart pounding in anticipation of the result.

‘Not Pregnant’

“YES, MORE CREAMPIES” Chris shrieks wrapping his arms around my waist and picking me up, and spinning me around as I giggle out of excitement.

He carefully seats me down back flat on my feet. Our moment was quickly interrupted by both Nick and Matt barging through the door.

“ARE YOU GUYS- wait is that a pregnancy test? Y/N ARE YOU PREGNANT?” Nick yelled as Matt's eyes widened at the little blue stick in my hands.

“Please for the love of god, I don't want a little Chris running around, or two, or even three” Matt places his hand on his forehead.

“No she is not” Chris chuckles at the boys’ comment.

“THANK YOU,” matt and nick say in unison.

“Wrap it before you tap it next time Chris,” Nick says walking away and back to the living room.

“Now I'll say it again, after 2 weeks of Facetime sex I would like to absolutely fuck your brains out” Chris says smirking down at me.

“Please do” I smile as he picks me up gripping the backs of my thighs as my legs wrap around his waist leading me to the bedroom.

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

A/N pt 2: I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THISSSSSS AND TYSM TO @cosmicmistake42069 FOR THIS INSPIRATION!!

[nikethestatue]

Chapter XVI

You Are the One

One time, Elain Marie Paige Archeron had everything she ever wanted. She had love. A love that was pure and clean and genuine. A love that did not ask for anything in return. The kind of love that was true, and kind, and forgiving, and protective. She couldn’t remember a time when she laughed as much as she did in the last three months. She recalled waking up every morning for the past three months and feeling lighter, like there was joy and a promise of good things. Now, in hindsight, she realised that it was because she was in love. But also because she was loved. No one’s ever loved her like that before. No one looked at her in the same way, like she was precious. Like she mattered. Like she was someone’s favourite thing in the world.

Only Elain Archeron did not hold on to that love.

She took it for granted.

She took the man who offered her his devotion and his loyalty and his unconditional, undeniable and passionate love for granted, never thinking that she’d ever lose him.

But she did.

She lost Azriel. 

“Remember, darling, that’s nature…simple biology,”

“Daddy, you aren’t going to be talking about how babies are made?” Elain sniffled, half amused, half horrified.

Her father smiled a sad smile and shook his head no.

“You have to remember that it’s the sperm that chases the egg. It’s the man who pursues the woman. Not the other way around. A man will chase and will not give up until he gets that sperm into the egg.”

“Ew, dad!”

“You are a big girl, my pretty rose. You know what I mean.”

Elain considered his words, and as graphic as they were, they also made sense. He was correct. 

“Love was invented to make nature more palatable,” he continued, “but biology never changed. It’s still about the sperm and the egg. Therefore, let him chase you. And if he doesn’t, then you’ll know the answer. But never chase a man, sweetheart. It’s his nature, his responsibility and his destiny to chase after a woman.”

She sighed and looked out the window.

It's been almost two weeks and Azriel hasn’t sought her out. The sperm hasn’t chased the egg. Azriel hasn’t chased her at all.

At first, it was just…silence.

For four days, it was silent. 

Her texts went unanswered. There were no call backs. She even went old school and sent Azriel an email! And that didn’t get a response either. 

She was ready to go all the way to Canary Wharf and be the weird girlfriend who busts into her boyfriend’s home and starts to demand answers. 

But he finally messaged her with a one word text: ‘training’. That’s all it said. No apology and no explanation. Not an ‘I am sorry for ignoring you’ or ‘I’ve been swamped with the team stuff’. No, she didn’t get anything other than ‘training’.

And so, Elain had changed her mind about trekking to Canary Wharf and waited. Training would eventually be over and he would be back. He'd return to her. Elain wanted to be an understanding girlfriend, who was going to support her man. She realised that he needed to get back into the groove of the game after his injury and get his body back in playing shape. Therefore, when Saturday came about and Arsenal was playing Luton Town, she dutifully turned on the telly and listened to the pre-game broadcast while Piglet raced upstairs and then came back with his red jersey, tossing it to her and urging her to dress him in it. He already knew what he needed to wear when Azriel was playing, and even though he made a mess in his cubby, turning it out and tossing all the other things on the floor, Elain thought that it was too cute how he got so excited and was behaving like a proper little fan. 

They watched the game, with Piglet sitting there, enraptured, and howling happily every time Azriel appeared on the screen. How Piglet recognised him, Elain didn’t know–she once hid under a blanket for 10 minutes, and her pug was wandering around in confusion, looking for her, never thinking to pull the blanket off. But here, he somehow was eagle-eyed and was spotting Azriel among the tiny players on the screen.

While Piglet was innocently happy to watch the game, hopping and rolling around, Elain’s mood was more subdued. She did take a photo of the pug and sent it to Azriel. When the game concluded, and Arsenal had won, she messaged him and said ‘Congratulations! Brilliant game’.

Thanks.

That’s what Eain got in response to her message from Azriel.

Thanks.

Angrily, she waited for more, but nothing else came.

Because if he’d responded, she’d confront him and give him a piece of her mind. What did she do to him?? She was a somewhat reluctant girlfriend, but she had the right to be reluctant. He moved like a freight train, but she was more cautious. Besides, she’s lived through many heartbreaks before and every single man that she’s been with has broken up with her. She never broke up with anyone–all the breakups were initiated by the men. And it looked like the pattern was continuing, unbroken. Azriel was also fed up with her and was breaking up.

That night, after the terse ‘thanks’ Elain closed her bedroom door, so Piglet wouldn’t hear her, and wept.

She wept for herself, for her lost love, for her stupidity.

She cried tears of anger, feeling rage sweep over her, cursing Azriel under her breath, calling him names. She was so angry. Angry at him for making her fall in love with him. Angry at him for making her feel. For having hope. Feelings and hope were things that she long ago placed in a place that she did not access and longed to forget. She hated Azriel Night for making her think that she could be loved, with a passion and devotion that Rhys offered her sister Feyre. She hated him for being even worse than Eris. At least Eris never offered her false hopes–he was what he was and she knew that going in. There would be no sweeping her off her feet by Eris. But Azriel…No, Azriel was gallant and strange. He courted her with ferocious intent and was not shy about showing her, and everyone around them, how much he wanted her. He loved her dog. He cooked for her. He cared for her. He cherished her. He joked, but he never pushed her into an uncomfortable place. She didn’t expect to find him and somehow, he landed on her doorstep. Literally. The old saying ‘it will happen when you least expect it’--well, it happened to her. She didn't expect him to sweep into her life and just overtake her whole existence. Because he did. And she hated him and herself, for allowing him so much power over her. She’d given him everything–her heart, first and foremost, but also access to her home, to her sanctuary and to her family. Even her father had accepted Azriel as an appropriate match for his beloved Elain. Elain was her father’s princess. She was the one he loved the most, and the one who gave him the most worry. He’d been lukewarm on Eris, despite Eris’s title and background. But Azriel–Azriel’d wormed his way into Sir Charles’s heart and Elain’s father came to like Azriel quite a bit.

But he never called. 

At some point, while operating like a zombie day in and day out, Elain couldn’t stand it anymore and swallowed her pride and messaged Gwyn Berdara.

She was mentally exhausted, thinking nonstop about Azriel and why he was acting the way he was acting. Unable to bring herself to reach out to him yet again, and receive yet another awful, one word answer, she opted for contacting Gwyn. She had no feelings about Gwyn either way–she’d only met her twice in person, and Gwyn wasn’t memorable enough for Elain to develop a strong opinion about her. But Gwyn didn’t respond to her either. Elain had sent a nonchalant sort of message of: Good morning! How are you? Just checking in to see how things are going with Azriel Night? I didn’t want to bother him as he is training and playing right now, but I am curious about your progress with him?

The message remained unread.

-

However, Elain Archeron did not need to wait for long to get answers to her questions. They came a day later, courtesy of the Daily Mail.

Another Mystery Woman for the Rackish Lothario?

Azriel Night,  Captain of Arsenal, never one wanting for female company, has been spotted at The Devonshire with a new companion. 

It seems that only a few months had passed since he was photographed on the streets of London carrying another woman in his arms following an attempted robbery. He’d been previously seen with the beautiful partner, now identified as Lady Elain Archeron, on more than one occasion. Hello Magazine even published a holiday spread of the lovely Archeron sisters and their partners in their Christmas edition. London society is still buzzing over the surprise marriage of Lady Feyre Archeron and Lord Rhysand Darling back in December, and over the budding romance between Lady Nesta Archeron, the Duchess of Velaris and Mr. Cassian Night (Azriel Night’s brother). 

By all accounts, the romance between the gorgeous aristocrat and Mr. Azriel Night was going splendidly and he’d been seen leaving her luxurious Russell Square townhouse, and even walking her pug, all through the month of December. However, it seems that their relationship is now on pause.

Mr. Night had been spotted dining at the upstairs restaurant at The Devonshire in the company of another woman. The yet to be named companion and Mr. Night enjoyed Sunday lunch at the Soho hotspot, dining on Roast Rib of Beef, all the trimmings and sticky toffee pudding. 

After so many trials and errors, will this one be the one to capture Azriel Night’s heart forever?

He was at The Devonshire on Sunday–the Sunday when it was Elain’s turn to cook Sunday roast. When everyone had come to her house for lunch. And by everyone, she meant–everyone. Rhys. Feyre. Her father. Nesta. CASSIAN. Cassian Night, who introduced her and Azriel, was at her dinner table, eating roast chicken and buttery peas. But his brother, Elain’s boyfriend, was on a date with someone else. 

A more awkward lunch couldn’t be imagined into existence, even by a talented writer.

Nesta was seething, smoke coming out of her ears. Cassian looked pained and uncomfortable. Rhys didn’t fare much better. 

But it was Piglet who broke everyone’s hearts. He sat by the front door for three hours–waiting for Azriel to arrive. He didn’t move. He didn’t eat. He waited. 

And waited.

And waited.

The whole family was here, and surely his dad would come as well. So he waited. He paced and then he lay on the floor, and he looked at the door, blinking his big brown buggy eyes.

Only Azriel never came.

-

It was a few days later, when Elain on on break between meetings and arranging dates that her phone lit up with a message. She looked at it and her face dropped. 

Gwyneth Berdara

Hi Elain! Things are going well, thank you for asking. How are you?

Elain Archeron

I am well, thanks! Forgive me for bothering you,

Gwyneth Berdara

It’s no bother! I apologise for not responding sooner. I had a presentation to create and it took all my energy and time! 😀

Elain Archeron

I can only imagine. I was just wondering how things are with Mr. Night? 

Gwyneth Berdara

We made the Daily Mail. Can you imagine? The one time we had lunch together. I can’t imagine spending all my life being hounded by journos

Elain Archeron

Oh, have you? I wasn’t aware that you were in the paper!

Gwyneth Berdara

😂 😂 I am suddenly a mini celebrity. Haha. I am only joking. But honestly? Don’t laugh, but we are mostly talking about football and working out. And hand to hand combat.

Elain Archeron

You are interested in hand to hand combat??

Gwyneth Berdara

I’ve been studying. Self-defence first, and then I got interested in other things. He is showing me some sicke moves! 

Elain Archeron

? Okay. I guess thank you for getting back to me. Let me know how it progresses.

Gwyneth Berdara

Will do. Also I didn’t realise the two of you were so close. He talks about you a lot. I know you were his matchmaker too but it’s like you are his GF or something.

Elain Archeron

Well, no worries. I am not. Thanks. Bye.

Elain was even more confused and upset about things after that bizarre exchange. Also, who used the expression ‘sicke moves’?

Professor Gwyn was into hand-to-hand combat? And Azriel was teaching her ‘sicke’ moves? Elain knew that Azriel was a fighter and grew up rough, but…what? 

There was no clarity around what was actually happening between Azriel and Gwyn after all that, and Elain only grew more and more anxious.

-

Another Sunday.

It was Nesta’s turn to cook and host, however, Sir Charles insisted that his daughters come to his house instead. And for that, Elain was grateful.

She was even more grateful to her sisters, who’d arrived without their men. She knew that they were lying when they said that both Rhys and Cassian were ‘busy’ on Sunday, but nevertheless, she was grateful to them. She didn’t think that she could handle another painfully awkward lunch with the handsome brothers who looked entirely too much like Azriel, and with her grieving pug. 

She was seated on the sofa, her legs tucked beneath her, her chin resting on her folded hands, as she looked out the window. It was raining. Rain. Rain. Rain. Endless fucking rain. 

She barely bothered today–her appearance was sallow and unkempt. She tied her hair in a messy bun, wore a beige jumper and a pair of yoga trousers–attire which was entirely inappropriate for Sunday lunch and not something she’d ever dare leave the house in. But she just couldn't bring herself to care. When the butler opened the door, he stepped back, lack of recognition evident on his face, before he quickly gathered himself and said, “Lady Elain, good afternoon. Please come in.”

Her father, and neither of her sisters comment on her appearance and the maudlin way that she moved around the house, with Piglet trailing behind her, his nose to the ground. No one was surprised when she went to her father’s study and curled up on the sofa, like she did when she was little.

“He’s lost weight,” Sir Charles noted, as he stroked Piglet’s back, while the pug lay unmoving in his lap.

“Two kilos,” Elain said, looking out the window. Expensive cars rolled down the street, taxis and stray pedestrians huddled under their umbrellas. Late January was miserable. Even the warmth of the fire in the marble fireplace didn’t make a difference. 

“That’s a lot for a pug,” her father commended. “Is he not eating?”

“He eats, but he doesn’t ask for snacks and mostly he just sits by the door,” Elain answered and wiped the tears that rolled down her cheeks. 

“Elain,” he began saying, but she rose up swiftly and rubbed her eyes vigorously.

“I am okay, daddy,”

“No you aren’t,” he said sadly. “No you aren’t”.

She shrugged, like it didn’t matter. And maybe it didn’t. Nothing much mattered.

“Let’s go eat.”

Just then, a knock on the door informed them that lunch was indeed served.

At least life was predictable. Pleasantly predictable here, with her family. There were no treacherous men and no disloyalty.

Feyre and Nesta were already at the table, their expressions worried, even though they tried really hard to act normal. 

“Hi Piggy, come here little boy,” Feyre tried to summon the pug, but Piglet didn’t even look at her and just went to his bowl, sniffing disinterestedly at the chicken and rice offering. 

Once the wine was poured and the soup was served and the butler left the dining room, Nesta, who’s been clutching at her spoon like she was going to lunge at someone with it, snarled,

“I have to say something,”

“Don’t say anything,” Feyre warned. “Nesta. Don’t.”

“That utter arsehole,” Nesta ignored her youngest sister and clutched at her napkin until her knuckles were white.

Sir Charles winced, knowing that the lunch was about to descend into chaos.

“Girls,” he began with a sigh, but suddenly was interrupted by Elain.

Her voice was monotone and she spoke without inflection, staring straight ahead.

“If I die before Piglet,” she said calmly, while the rest of her family tensed and stared at her with apprehension, “show him my body.”

“Elain,” Feyre gasped. But Elain ignored her and continued,

“Bring him over to my deathbed. Allow him to smell me. He will understand death. He will understand that I was gone and that I would not be coming back. Allow him to mourn me. But do not attempt to spare him the sight of me and my death. He should know that he was not abandoned. He must know that I died, but that I did not leave him. He must understand that unlike others, I did not abandon him. Not like his first family and not like Azriel. He should not be waiting by the door for me to come back. Take him to the funeral and allow him to watch me be lowered into the ground so he understands the finality of it all. He must know that Elain loved him and did not leave him on his own. She was not like Azriel. She never lied to him.” 

-

What Elain had missed the most was the casual intimacy.

As another week passed and January was coming to a close, Elain’s life returned to its natural, if boring routine. 

She worked, taking on more clients–thank god for January and ‘resolutions’ and people wanting to couple up–and that took a lot of her time. She was grateful for the distraction, but the nights and the weekends were tough.

Most evenings, she cried herself to sleep, while remembering all the good things that she’d lived through with Azriel. He wasn’t dead, yet the fissure of emptiness inside her chest that was created by his absence really felt like he had died. There was something unsaid and unfinished about them, which bothered her like a toothache. It was a wound which she kept irritating every time she remembered something about him.

How he was so effortlessly sexual with her, and how his relaxed sensuality allowed her to feel free with her own sexuality for the first time in her life. To Azriel, she was beautiful. Always beautiful. Never awkward or chubby or clumsy or strange.

The way he would habitually slap her bum, every time he passed by her. Or pinch it. Or caress it. Or cup it in his large hand. At first it scandalised her. And then, she grew to love it. She grew to expect it. 

The way he strutted around after a shower in only a towel wrapped around his hips, showing off his incredible body…goodness gracious! That was something to behold! The way she learned all the details of his form, no matter how insignificant–his tattoos, the shape of his shoulders, the thickness of his biceps, how his neck was a touch too long for his body, but how that made him appear more graceful. She knew exactly how many abdominal muscles he packed–more than six, and definitely eight, and she knew the shape of his long strong fingers. His hair curled slightly in the back of her neck. His hazel eyes had more green in them than brown, and were peppered with black specks. He had perfect toes. The V of his hips could only be called vicious, because it was so sharp and pointed right at his…The one thing Elain never got to see. She never saw his member. Felt it, knew that it was worryingly large and thick, but she never saw it.

She supposed that she always thought that they’d have more time. 

She recalled how one time, they were in a restaurant. It was moderately busy and they were seated by the window. It so happened that there was no one at the table in front of them, or by their side. So what did he do? He parted her shirt on her chest, and when she thought that he’d just cop a feel–something he did often and without hesitation–he bared her breast completely and tugged on her nipple, while kissing her lips. She sat there, completely delirious with love and arousal, while he pinched and rolled her nipple in his fingers, while squeezing her bare tit in his palm. Just as the waiter approached, he tucked her back in and acted like nothing happened. 

She missed him.

Sometimes, she screamed into her pillow, a long, tortured scream because she…well, she missed him. There was nothing that could replace him in her life. 

She loved him. Loved him when they were together, and loved him now–perhaps even more than before. 

-

He rang her. 

Once.

It was a day like any other. A blustery wintry afternoon, only 5 pm and already pitch black outside. Though slowly, but surely the days were getting a bit longer. Just a little. It was early February and Elain just changed into her comfy joggers and a sweatshirt having just come back from walking Piglet. He hated being outside, especially when it was cold and drizzling, and thankfully, it was a quick walk and he did his business in record time.

For some reason, it didn’t register with Elain that it was Azriel’s name on the Caller ID. 

She’d become so used to his calls and messages that it seemed normal that he’d be ringing her. 

“Hello,” she said.

He seemed surprised when he said, “Hi Elain”.

Everything stopped. 

The moment she heard that voice, that achingly familiar, smooth, deep voice she felt her hands shake, and her heart beat wildly in her chest.

She threw her phone on the counter as if it burned her and then, with her finger trembling, pressed the ‘speaker’ button.

“Why are you calling me?” she demanded, her voice barely a whisper.

He didn’t answer right away.

“Why?” she asked again, and to her horror her voice was already hoarse and weak, and she sounded strangled. Because there were tears in her eyes and she was hyperventilating.

“How are you?” he asked softly instead.

How was she?

How dare he?

How was she?

She howled like an animal in her sorrow over losing him.

She cried.

She screamed.

She wondered what she'd done and why he just left her without an explanation? 

She didn’t eat.

She didn’t sleep or she slept too much.

“Fine. Brilliant. All good,” she laughed a dry, angry laugh. “I am sure you are doing well too, right? How’s Gwyn?”

He sighed, like the sound of her voice pained him.

“I didn’t like the way things ended between us,” he told her somberly, ignoring her question.

“Well, it was your choice, wasn’t it?” she reminded him. 

“I suppose?”

It sounded like he wasn't sure.

“What do you want, Azriel?” she demanded.

“How’s Pink?” he asked instead.

“What do you want to hear exactly?”

Did he want to hear about Piglet crying by the door?

Did he want to hear about Piglet avoiding any football on TV and barking violently for her to change the channel if he saw anyone running on a green field?

Did he want to hear about Piglet sitting and waiting for him for hours, day after day, hoping that his dad would show up?

“You abandoned him,” she accused him savagely. “I told you not to make him fall in love with you. I told you not to allow him to get attached to you. I explicitly told you that this would happen if he thought of you as his own.”

“I am sorry,” he whispered brokenly.

“You did it all. You hurt us, Azriel. What do you expect to happen now?” she questioned him, feeling her voice becoming hysterical. “Two brothers and two sisters together at Christmas. A third sister alone. A third brother who used to date the third sister is now with some random woman. Is this your vision? For all of us to play happy families? Like nothing’s happened. Like we didn’t exist. Like what we had didn’t matter??”

“He did matter,” he argued. “It does.”

She ignored him.

“Cassian and Nesta are dating now. Feyre and Rhys are married. Instead of leaving me alone–like I requested, over and over again–you made me fall for you. Fall in love with you. And then you tossed me aside.”

“You love me?” he breathed a shocked gasp.

“What?” 

“You said you fell in love with me,”

“You are unbelievable,” she cried out. He was always deranged, but now he was even more incomprehensible. What was wrong with him?

“My dog is screaming any time he sees Arsenal signage. My heart is shuttered. Is that what you wanted?” Elain broke down in tears. “Is that what you wanted?

“I never wanted that,” he argued quietly. “I never,”

“What did you think would happen?” she insisted, sobbing. “That I can just walk away?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice devastated. “It all spiralled out of control…I didn’t want any of this.”

She wasn’t listening to him. 

She cried.

Cried for her lost love. Cried for the children she’d never have with him. Cried for the future they’d never have. Cried for not knowing what his perfect day consisted of. Cried for the Christmases they’d never celebrate together again. Cried for his touch and for his kisses and for him next to her in bed. Cried for the games she’d never cheer at. Cried for knowing that she’d never see him snuggling together with Piglet. 

She cried and Azriel listened.

She didn’t know how long it lasted–felt like an hour–and he didn’t say anything. He didn’t comfort her, but he didn’t ask her to stop either. 

At some point, Piglet came over. He looked up at her, watching her weep, and whimpered sadly, before curling himself at her feet.

“I am sorry, Elain,” Azriel whispered at last.

She quieted down, before telling him,

“I wanted to be your wife, you know. I wanted to build a family with you. I wanted to have your children.”

“I understand. And I am sorry.”

“I wish you happiness, Azriel. Even if you robbed me of mine.”

[chicken-wayng]

No Strings Attached

I do not own 911, obviously.

Current Word Count: 7, 086 (or around 26 pages)

Track#1: Bi, Bi Bi

It starts like it's going to be a normal night. Buck is on his way over, Chris is setting up their usual spot on the couch, and Eddie has just finished up burgers for their dinner. Then Eddie's phone pings with a message alert that changes the evening:

Would it be alright if Tommy joined us? Sorry it's such late notice but he’s got tonight off and…

Eddie doesn't read the rest of the message. His heart feels weird and he suddenly feels a little hot. It's not like the panic attack he'd experienced when he was afraid Ana and he were moving too fast, but it definitely is as uncomfortable. It feels like everything sturdy was pulled out from beneath him; which was a statement in itself from a man in his field of work. His ears ring as he types out a short response of consent.

Why does he feel so weird about Tommy coming over? Tommy has visited before and had dinner with Chris, but adding Tommy to family nights felt different in a way Eddie couldn't properly word. It felt entirely unreasonable how his entire being suddenly rejected Tommy's presence… And lately even Buck's. Ever since he'd announced his newest paramour, it seemed all Eddie heard about. Tommy likes this Star Wars themed coffee place near the 118, Tommy likes dark chocolate over milk chocolate, Tommy likes scary movies, Tommy likes video games, Tommy likes Buck and Eddie feels sick every time he thinks about it. Just the thought of it is horrible and it only makes Eddie feel worse. It's a vicious cycle of destruction he can’t stop himself from participating in.

A knock at the door interrupts his circling for now, but it's the subject of his thoughts knocking so it's like ice on a burn; a temporary fix with lasting damage. Chris lets out a cheer, grabbing his crutches and making his way towards the door. Eddie makes it after the excited boy, just in time to see Chris throw the door open and yell, “Buck!”

Eddie motions for Chris to step back and tells him to go make sure the living room is picked up while he gets the guests settled.

Buck is dressed in a pair of well fitting jeans and a purple sweater that hugs his body comfortably. A bit of his collarbone peaks out of the neck and it’s tight enough that Eddie can trace it without use of imagination, as it elegantly rises and falls with his broad shoulders. It’s a thin, dark purple sweater that brings out the blue of his eyes and the blonde highlights of his curls.

Tommy clears his throat, as if politely reminding the two he’s there, before stepping up behind Buck and holding up a bag of sour patch kids in his right hand. Eddie’s happy Tommy thought of Chris, but his attention narrows in on the left hand on Buck’s hip and suddenly he feels angry. Tommy smiles pleasantly as he says, “We brought a treat for the little dude and,” using that offending left hand he motions to a case of beer Eddie hadn’t had the time to notice in Buck’s hands. “some for us.”

It is a petty side of Eddie that makes him channel his father as he says, “Oh that’s so nice of you man, but it’s just that it's late and I don’t want Chris to have too much sugar before bed. Also I don’t think I want to drink, you can if you want I just don’t really need it to have a good time.”

Buck looks crestfallen and Tommy looks… odd but Eddie is saved from having to explain his attitude as Chris saunters back into the room. A huge cocky smile is on his face as he says, “I beat your score! It was so easy.”

Eddie’s earlier happiness briefly returns as he watches Buck separate himself from Tommy to go check the screen recording Chris had captured, both talking so excitedly it's easy to ignore his current discontentment. Until he has to turn around and entertain it.

“So how was work?” Tommy asks, friendly as ever. Dressed in a casual, pink v-necked sweater and jeans, Tommy looks genuinely comfortable. Eddie had known him well enough to know that while he was content and happy with the current life he’d built for himself, Tommy still had something he had been working through the last time Eddie and he had hung out. It seems that in the few weeks he’d been dating Buck, he'd gotten the metaphorical job done.

“Surprisingly boring,” Eddie says with a laugh, glad to have familiar territory to discuss. After returning the question, Tommy regales him with a tale of his day and Eddie slowly begins to relax. Realizing he hadn’t made a plate for Tommy, he does so as he listens as Tommy’s no-good day finally comes to an end that leaves them both laughing. It’s so easy to like Tommy, he’s such a great guy.

Realizing he’d kind of cornered himself into not drinking (not even his normal one bottle with dinner), Eddie grabs orange juice from the fridge and pours three glasses. Raising an eyebrow, Eddie asks, “Would you like one too?”

“Of course,” Tommy says, the left corner of his mouth quirking up as he leans on the counter. Something about it feels blatant to Eddie, but he’s not sure what it is. It’s too obvious and he’s never been one to guess the glaring plot, even with the number of telenovelas he’s watched. “Please and thank you, sir.”

Eddie jolts for a moment, an unexpected thrill going along his spine and traveling to a place it shouldn't be at a dinner party with his son, best friend, and his best friend’s boyfriend. He recovers quickly, but the damage was done in two ways. Not only does his jumping cause him to overspill, but he knocks over the glass intended for him as well. The orange juice covers the counter and quickly runs towards the floor, luckily Bobby was his cooking teacher and one of his tenants was to have a cooking rag. Eddie was able to sop most of it, but his shirt and jeans would have to be changed.

Tommy grabs the sink rag and uses it to wipe the sticky up, his shoulder bumping Eddie’s in the small space. They work to quickly clean up the mess and with their combined effort it doesn’t take more than two minutes.

Eddie tsks, shaking his head as he says, “I’m sorry man. Boring days get to me. Dinner is done so you don’t need to worry about it but I’ve got to change. Have Buck set you a spot at the table. Tell him the green mats are in the wash so he’ll have to make do with the yellow ones.”

“No problem. Now go before it starts to feel gross,” Tommy responds with a laugh.

Eddie passes Buck and Chris on the couch, who both look up with questioning countenances before noticing the spill down Eddie’s front. Eddie goes to his room, taking off the dirty clothes and going to his attached bathroom to wet a rag. Once he’s acceptably clean, he grabs the first shirt in his closet and quickly pulls on a pair of jeans. Pausing to check himself out in the mirror, he realizes it’s a blue sweater Buck had gotten him for father’s day. It has the word dad (and all related synonyms) all over it, in over a hundred languages, done in different shades of blue and eclectic fonts. Mentally preparing himself to go back, Eddie tells himself, “You haven't done anything wrong yet.”

Although not much of one, the pep talk does its job enough to get him out of his room. Chris and Buck are still on the couch, chatting happily, so Eddie goes back to the kitchen. Tommy has set the table and is now standing there, looking out the window with his arms wrapped around himself.

Now it's Eddie's turn to awkwardly clear his throat in announcement of himself, and he watches how Tommy jolts. The larger man turns to face Eddie, a guilty expression on his face and suddenly Eddie feels like shit. Tommy is his friend, no matter how Eddie's day went he has no right to make him feel so insecure.

“You okay man?” Eddie asks, not wanting to overstep but not wanting to fall short.

Tommy smiles, one so self-deprecating that Eddie recognizes it from the mirror, and says, “Yeah I just got in my own head. I can't stop beating myself up.”

“Don't,” Eddie says sternly, knowing how hypocritical the command is. “You wouldn't treat anyone that way so you don't do it to yourself. Want to share a beer with dinner?”

Tommy nods, grabbing them each one. The weird ice wall that had gone up seems to melt, conversation flows better as Eddie finishes grabbing all the needed condiments.

“...Anyways, it all boils down to human error,” Tommy finishes.

“People,” Eddie sighs as he grabs Chris’s burger, splitting it into four. “You'd think with a computer with all of human knowledge on it, we'd be smarter.” Eddie holds up a finger to halt Tommy before he responds so he can yell, “Boys, dinner! Go wash your hands.” He waits until he hears them scrambling up until he waves for Tommy to continue his thought.

“Oh but why learn when we can watch funny cat videos?” Tommy laughs, a deep rich sound that Eddie thinks fills the room pleasantly. It’s enthralling. “Much more important.” Tommy licks his dry lips to wet them, and Eddie would like to say that’s what drew his attention to them but then he’d be lying.

This close, Eddie can scent Tommy and it’s intoxicating. An alluring mixture of sandalwood, eucalyptus, and Kraken - whatever soap he uses and the deodorant - and most importantly Buck. The lavender and rosemary of the herbal hair products and the bergamont antiperspirant (“Never deodorant, Eddie. Not unless you want to smell me after two hours!”) Buck keeps spares of in Eddie’s bedroom bathroom. Distantly, Eddie notes that they’re both Old Spice guys too but mostly he can’t stop focusing on the fact that Tommy smells like Buck, which must mean the opposite is true. Something about this triggers Eddie’s earlier bad mood and he has to look away or else he just knows Tommy will see it.

As usual, he’s saved by Christopher as the excitable boy exclaims, “Dad please?!”

“Please what?” Eddie laughs, looking up at Buck with an eyebrow raised. The dirty blonde blushes and Eddie has to look away.

“Buck says there’s a new Kung Fu Panda movie out!” Christopher explains with a sigh. Eddie shares another look with Buck, this one much less confusing and clearly saying, ‘Kids, amiright?’

Buck laughs in response, moving towards his seat. Eddie would describe Tommy’s laugh as enthralling, the sound was nice and he would never grow tired of it; but Buck’s laugh was addicting. It felt like the times he went without it were the most miserable parts of his existence. He’d do anything to hear it for the rest of his life.

“Did you catch the game last night?” Tommy asks as he brings their beers over from the counter, taking a seat at the round dinner table, between Christopher and Buck, and across from Eddie.

“The college playoffs?” Eddie confirms as he holds up the mustard and ketchup bottles and in a silent question if Chris wants either. When he was younger he was normally a ketchup only kid, but ever since he'd entered his preteen years Chris liked to have the option.

“What else is on?” Tommy responds playfully.

“Ain't that the truth,” Eddie laughs as he puts the wanted mustard on the four cuts of burger. Eddie passes the bottle to Tommy and for a moment their hands brush and linger for a moment longer than necessary. Eddie brings his hand back with a grunt of apology.

“There was a new David Attenborough ocean documentary last night,” Buck comments, before taking a bite out of his burger.

Chris gasps as he asks, “You watched it without me?”

“No,” Buck laughs. “I watched the game with Tommy. I was making a joke because he implied there was nothing better on.”

“Ohhh,” Chris laughs too and then says. “You and Tommy should stay and watch it with us!”

With this he looks at his dad with such puppy eyes that Eddie only shrugs and responds, “It's up to them but we've gotta work tomorrow so they probably won't wanna, bud.”

And now it's Buck's turn to use his own Labrador eyes as he begs, “Tommy please? I have a set of clothes in my drawer big enough to fit you as pajamas!”

Eddie knows exactly how Tommy feels even before he gives his answer, because he's been there a thousand times for Evan Buckley:

whipped.

Track#2: Bringin' da Noise

Dinner goes pleasantly and soon they're heading for the living room to start Buck and Christopher’s documentary. The two settle into their usual spots, and just as Eddie is about to sit in his he realizes that he can't sit there. Normally Buck is sandwiched between the two Diazes but he'll probably want Tommy to sit next to him. Eddie hangs back and when Tommy stops to give him a questioning look he simply motions to the spot and says, “Currently the best place in the whole house.”

Tommy snorts and takes the seat and soon they're all settled and watching the TV. There's basic conversation between the three, but really they don't talk because Buck and Chris are paying more attention to David Attenborough. It's surprisingly comfortable, almost exactly the same as their normal routine. 

Halfway through, both Tommy and Eddie are out of their beers and Buck’s out of his orange juice. When Eddie goes to stand and grab them a refill, Tommy stops him and says, “Let me. You just relax and I'll be back soon.” 

Eddie thanks him and goes back to watching TV. It isn't until Tommy is coming back ten minutes later with a piece of paper does Eddie realize how long it had taken him to grab the drinks. The source of his stalling is apparent, as he doesn't have the drinks and instead holds up a “contract” Eddie recalls all too well for the drunken night it had been written. 

It was after Shannon had died, and Eddie had needed nothing more than to get drunk with his best friend. Chris was at abuela’s so Eddie wasn't worried about letting his inhibitions go, and let go they did. Unable to recall the exact circumstances, somehow Eddie had gotten into an emotional state wherein he was complaining about being alone forever. Chris was growing up, soon he'd be 18 and then college and Eddie would be left with an empty nest. Equally as drunk, Buck had been reminded of a movie he and Maddie had watched where the main characters agree to get married if they aren't by a certain age. Long story short, they had decided to create a similar contract. Written on one a piece of construction paper for a project of Chris's, in the worst handwriting and so badly misspelled it looked like old English, was written,

I, Edmundo Diaz, of sound mine do hereby declare if by ages, 45 and 40 respetifly, we are unmarried then I will marry Evan Buckley.

It's simple and to the point, written big to take up the paper. Buck had doodled little hearts and flowers to border it and over the years that it had resided in the kitchen it had obtained a few cooking splatters of unidentifiable sorts. A piece of paper that truly should have been thrown away by now, yet Eddie had persistently kept on the fridge regardless of how many girlfriends gave him funny looks over it.

“Did you guys make a Wedding Pact?” Tommy asks, and to hear it from anyone else, especially a man of Tommy's stature and profession, Eddie might have been nervous but from him Eddie feels only a fierce protectiveness that makes no sense. 

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Eddie snappily defends them, crossing his arms. 

“Wait,” Buck says, swallowing and halting himself mid-sip of his beer. “You don't think it's a good idea anymore?”

Once again he's channeling his inner Golden Retriever to give Eddie the most pitiful look, one that has him scrambling to explain, “No! Not at all!” Somehow Buck's face falls further and Eddie further says, “Or, not no I don't want to marry you. I definitely do!” Seeing Tommy's joyantly raised eyebrow, Eddie further digs his hole. “Er, I mean I don't not want to marry you when- IF!- if the time comes.”

Tommy laughs, the joy and his eyes taking over his countenance as he says, “Oh my God, you two!” His own laughter cuts him off. 

Eddie's face feels hot and he distracts himself by putting the subtitles on. 

“It's a completely valid contract,” Buck says. “I would pay to have it notarized!”

“I would notarize it for you now,” Tommy responds. “If I had a printer for the finalizing paperwork.”

“Dad has a printer!” Chris helpfully offers. 

“It's notarized in our hearts,” Buck says with a dismissive hand wave. The conversation ends, and they settle into a comfortable silence filled with the narrations of Mr. Attenborough. Eddie feels like something has shifted, even though Tommy just sits down and they go back to watching TV.

Once the credits start rolling, Eddie turns to tell Chris to get started on his night time routine but stops when he sees him passed out with Buck. Both are laying in the same sprawling-fashion, heads thrown back and mouths open, tucked into each other like they couldn't sleep as soundly without the other - and truly they couldn't. Eddie lets the credits roll through and another doc play as he observes his little family.

And then his eyes glance next to him and he realizes he isn't the only one completely enraptured. Tommy has a soft smile and suddenly Eddie feels…

“What time is it?” Tommy asks, his head darting up as he realizes Eddie was staring at him. 

Eddie checks his phone, it's late. “12:46, we should probably get them in bed.”

Eddie stands up, his body aching from a good day's worth of work, so he twists his back to crack it and alleviate some of the pain. 

“I could help you with that really quick,” Tommy says. “I got my masseuses license.”

“Wow, vet, firefighter, pilot, masseuse; you're pretty skilled,” Eddie responds as he thinks over Tommy's offer. It's not like Tommy hasn't given him a rub down before, but it's different this time - he's Eddie's best friend's boyfriend now.

“Don't forget notary and best coffee maker at Jabba the Hutt,” Tommy adds with a laugh. “I like to keep busy.”

“Sounds like it,” Eddie says along with his own chuckle. “Hey if you ever really get bored I've got my hands full here,” Eddie waves his hands at his boys, before his hands return to his aching back.

“Oh I'd love to,” Tommy says energetically. “Anytime you need me let me know. I know it's a bit awkward me suddenly dating your best friend just as we're becoming friends ourselves and all, but I really want to be your friend. I wasn't trying to, like, use you for information on Buck.” Tommy's blue eyes reflect that he's telling a heartfelt truth. 

For an Ex-catholic, Eddie prays a lot. Currently he's praying for a metaphorical bell to save him, but since it's not coming he decides to just ring true. “I know that, and I didn't mean to make you feel like I don't want to be friends… it's just…”

And that's just it. Eddie can't even admit it and understand it himself, there's no way he can say it aloud. Thankfully Tommy takes over and charge, as he leans against the counter to nonchalantly admit, “You know, I thought you and Buck were looking for a third. I didn't realize you two weren't dating until a couple weeks into our friendship and right before he visited me at work.”

Eddie desperately wishes for another beer, just so he has something to distract himself with, but instead he raises and lowers his hands while his mouth gapes open like an idiot. “Shh-Whattt???”

“I mean, I was okay with it,” Tommy shrugs. “But it was a shock to learn you guys weren't-”

“- Tommy? Eddie?” Buck's voice is deep with sleep and he rubs his eyes with curled fists in a way that is both adorable and attractive. “We should put Chris in bed and get there ourselves. We all have work tomorrow.”

“Yeah, of course!” Eddie responds, jumping at the out. “I'll carry Chris to bed if you make sure he has all his school things together?”

Buck hums his consent and they split apart to do their familiar tasks. Eddie tucks their son in bed and by the time he makes it back to the kitchen Buck is already back. And with Tommy. The larger male has him backed up against the counter, panting breathlessly and blushing redder than Eddie has ever had the pleasure to see. Suddenly, it dawns on Eddie that it will be Tommy sharing his bed with Buck tonight and that he'll be the one on the couch.

And he wishes for midnight - even though it's already there. 

Track#3: Makes Me Ill

Eddie's circling turns into a whirling hurricane.

A curse to see Tommy with Buck. It had happened once before he knew they were dating, but now it seemed every time he went out they were on a date. During their shift after the sleepover, all he hears is about how much fun Buck had and how they should do that more often. When he takes Chris to school on their next day off, he decides to drive by Buck's apartment… only to find his visitor’s spot taken up by Tommy’s truck and opts to drive on. During the family dinner Bobby and Athena hold at their place once a month, Eddie overhears their hosts inviting the younger couple to a double date for later in the month. Once Buck had somehow forgotten his phone at home and they'd had to go on a call before he could grab it, when they'd gotten back to the house Tommy had been waiting with it and flowers, telling Buck, “not to forget about his dentist appointment after his shift tomorrow,” with an adoring kiss good-bye.

Tommy was becoming a permanent fixture and the thought of losing his position scared Eddie beyond thought.

It had been two weeks since their sleepover and Eddie had found every excuse to get out of having to endure another one. It wasn't that he couldn't stand Buck or Tommy, he just couldn't stand them together and not… well that's just it. He could tell his avoidance disheartened Buck, yet the alternative was something beyond words and incomprehensible. It was better this way.

So he did his best to avoid the couple while failing horribly. The first time it happened Eddie had to head back to the station because he'd left his wallet. Since it was the middle of the day, Chris was at school and the only hassle about this was the drive back and forth. When he'd pulled up and parked, the fire engine rushed out. Then as he was exiting his truck, Christopher's school called to talk about a bake sale. After 30 minutes (33 minutes and 24 minutes according to the call log) he was finally ready to head inside the house.

It was silent without the B squad and eerily odd without his team. Like going into a school or a doctor's office after hours, the same anxiety about being caught even though he was allowed to be there. That's when he heard it.

“If you keep doing that, I'm going to be late for work and we're going to be caught,” a deep voice says, followed by a rich chuckle. Although they've only known each other for a short amount of time, Eddie recognizes the voice easily as Tommy's.

A naughty laugh answers his statement.

Realizing just what they’re doing in the shower room, Eddie quickly backtracks, unwilling to let that image haunt him for the rest of his day. Not that him not seeing it helps, if anything it makes it worse, because now every time he goes to take a shower all he can imagine is what exactly he could have caught them doing.

The second time he's on a movie date with Marisol.

Pepa had agreed to watch Christopher so they went with something mature. Honestly, Eddie wasn’t too interested in watching a seemingly smart person make bad decisions and miss the blatant truth in front of them, so he wasn’t paying attention to the movie’s plot. They were about halfway through the movie and Marisol seemed to be enjoying it, so he simply leaned back and distracted himself by looking around.

There hadn’t been a lot of people in the theater to begin with, but after the main character had made a cringy decision over half of the little crowd had departed. Now it was just Marisol and Eddie in the front three rows and a couple in the back row.

From his position and the darkness, Eddie couldn’t make out the faces of the lovers but now that he was focusing on anything but the movie he realizes he could definitely hear them.

At first it was just a heavy breathing, which quickly gave way to a panting then the intermittent sound of addicting whimpers joined the hushed cacophony. The participants were obviously trying to keep it down and Marisol had yet to notice, but it was all Eddie could focus on. He'd had sex thousands of times, in multiple ways, but never anything as passionate sounding - even as muffled as it was.

Eddie shifts, trying not to let Marisol in on his discomfort.

A deep, pleasured moan comes from the back row, and Eddie can't help but look at Marisol to see if she heard it. Somehow she hadn't, but when Eddie looks at the screen he sees a sex scene and realizes she must have thought it belonged on the screen.

Thankfully Marisol doesn't notice and the movie is over within 30 minutes. Grateful, Eddie makes a speedy exit, practically dragging Marisol out the door. Unfortunately, she stops him in the hallway outside to point out a poster for an upcoming movie. Which means that Eddie witnesses the couple exiting the theater, hand in hand and with matching countenances of love and bliss.

Buck and Tommy.

Eddie only gets a moment to covetously observe them before Buck sees them. It does make him a little happy at how obviously happy the other man is at seeing him, but his desire to be there too trumps any joy Eddie feels.

“Eddie!” Buck exclaims, holding his hand up as if Eddie could miss him in a room full of people.

‘This must have been a little of what Buck felt when I crashed his first date with Tommy ,’ Eddie thinks but he says, “Hey guys! How goes it?”

“Great! We just saw one of my favorite books on screen!” Buck responds, the couples facing each other now so Eddie can see his pure smile easily. “It was an amazing adaptation!! What did you guys see?”

“I think we might have seen the same thing!” Marisol remarks. “Did you just come out of theater 6?”

As Buck confirms her, Eddie catches Tommy's eye. He's unable to keep it for long because the glint of them says Tommy knows Eddie knows they weren't really watching the movie.

A month has gone by, which means Bobby and Athena's dinner is tonight and that Tommy and Buck have been dating for two and a half months now. The indefinable feeling that haunts Eddie has gotten worse. Everytime he sees them together he feels his blood boil with it, when Eddie sees them separately it lays dormant. So far he's been good at keeping their visitations quarantined, but at a family dinner he would inevitably have to be around the both of them. Maybe he could use Chris as a buffer.

It's with this goal that he slowly gets them around, to the point that Chris essentially is rushing Eddie out the door. They arrive later than everyone and Chris quickly abandons him to go hang out with Denny, Harry and Mara. Eddie curses his son's extroverted personality as he makes himself go hang out with his best friend and good friend, who just so happens to be his best friend's boyfriend. Nothing to be weird about.

Why is he being so weird about it?

“What's up with you, man?” Tommy asks as he and Buck make their way over to him.

“Nothing much,” Eddie answers with a wave towards Chris as he continues, “Just been so busy lately I feel like I haven't had any free time.”

“I feel that,” Tommy says, wrapping a firm arm around Buck's waist. “Are we still on for Sunday? No pressure if you've got something else to do or just wanna use the day to relax instead.”

“Oh, y’know, it's just, I've got no one to watch Chris,” Eddie stammers out the excuse, knowing how flimsy it sounds as he says it. “You guys have fun!”

Buck shakes his head then says, “No, no! I don't really like basketball. Why don't you guys go together, I'll watch Chris! I've missed my Captain America time.”

And how can Eddie say no to that? So he doesn't, “Are you sure? I wouldn't want to make you feel… like you did before.”

“Yeah but that was before…” Buck blushes, looking down shyly where his hand rests on Tommy's wrist. “I didn't understand how I felt then, and now I do. I don't want to come between the two of you like that.”

“Of course you wouldn't,” Tommy comments lowly just for Buck, but Eddie hears it anyway.

Not understanding it and also knowing it wasn't intended for him, Eddie ignores it as he says, “Okay, awesome. Sounds like a plan! I'm looking forward to it.”

Luckily, Bobby chooses this moment to make his way over and their weekend-plans conversation ends. They chat for sometime about general things, before Athena makes her way over. Eventually they get on the topic of children and for once Eddie doesn't notice Buck with Tommy, as the couple slips away.

Actually, it isn't until they're sitting down for dinner does he notice their absence, because Chris asks Eddie, “Where is Bucky?”

Looking around, Eddie shrugs and says, “I don't know. How about this, you go save our seats and while I go to the bathroom I'll look for them.”

Words he'd come to regret as soon as that heavenly blessed, muffled moaning once again graced his ears. He should have known with his luck he'd catch them again . Should have somehow guessed what they'd be doing because he knows both of his friends.

What he doesn't expect himself to somehow know is how… distracting their noises are. Unlike the time in the theater, Eddie stalls to admire the sound and what he hears leaves him yearning for a cold shower.

“Tommy, please,” Buck whines, a sound so desperate and pleading. “Don't tease, we have to hurry.”

“Then maybe you should do so,” Tommy responds deeply, clearly just as aroused. “Come for me, Evan.”

The sound that Buck makes is one Eddie will never forget and also why he couldn't meet neither Buck nor Tommy's eye over dinner. After all, how do you make eye contact with your best friend when you know the frantic sound they make as they ejaculate? How can you look into your friend’s eyes when you want to hear their boyfriend orgasm?

And what if you just as desperately want to hear more.

Today they're at the wedding venue to help Maddie and Chim plan their wedding. “They” being Athena and Bobby, Karen and Hen, Buck and Tommy and Eddie. They were invited to help on choosing the cake and none of them were going to give up free sweets.

“I'm so glad May was okay watching all the kids today,” Karen comments to Maddie. “I can deal with my sugar rush, not theirs!”

This garners some laughs and the congenial mood follows them into the room where they'll be taste testing. The group is led through the Japanese-inspired sliding door to a beautiful room that utilizes and encaptures natural beauty. The table they sit at is elegant but clearly made from a large tree. Eddie is sat next to Buck and the end of the table, with Tommy on Buck's left, Athena is next to him and Bobby is at the head of the table at the fiancee's insistence. Karen is across from Eddie, Hen is next to her, then Chim and Maddie.

The first cake is a simple red velvet, which Eddie is immediately biased for until he takes a bite and realizes it tastes nothing like his abuela's. Trying to conceal his face because the others seem to like it, he wipes his mouth and takes a drink of his water. Karen catches his eye and without words he knows she's in the same boat.

“How's Christopher?” She asks after setting her own glass down and dabbing her lips softly so she doesn't mess up her chapstick.

“Oh you would not believe…” Eddie starts, telling her about Christopher’s foray into the dating world.

Karen laughs, “Well do you expect any difference with who his other father is?”

“Not at all,” Eddie says with his own laugh. “I just hoped he'd learn more from…” he turns to Buck, “What'd you call it?” He snaps his fingers, turning back to Karen to answer his own question and continue, “Point 2 version than Point 1.”

Buck's eyes are furrowed in confusion until he seemingly realizes they're talking about him because he considerably brightens as he chimes in, “Oh please! We've had the same amount of hook-ups since you joined - actually I think you've had more than me in the last 6 or 7 years!”

Eddie opens his mouth to start protesting but stops himself as he does the mental math. Shannon, Ana, being friends with benefits with Lena until she'd called it off, countless one night stands, and lately Marisol. Ali, Taylor, Natalia, 13 one night stands (Eddie knows how many because Buck has told him about every one) and now Tommy. Libido wise, they’re matched. Relationship wise, they’re on a similar path.

“Whatever,” Eddie mock-scoffs, the smile on his face a sure sign that he’s joking. “I’ve had more serious relationships.”

“Indisputably,” Buck mock-snarks, his smile just as mischievous. “You’re looking for a mom for Christopher, not a partner.”

Eddie gasps, bringing his hand to his chest in false offense, “How dare thee!”

“Why would he need to be looking? You’re both,” Hen jokes.

Tommy laughs, “You can’t even deny it, Evan. The only decorations you have are his art works. They’re framed and displayed in places of honor,” He looks at Karen and Hen as he says, “When he brought me over to his apartment for the first time, I swear he spent the first hour showing me around like he was some art curator showing off his favorite artist’s work.”

Everyone laughs, which is what the bakers walk out to with the next cake.

“I’m glad to see everyone’s having a good time,” A woman says, obviously the head chef or the baker’s version of that. “Are we ready to try the next?”

At everyone’s agreement, they clean up the table and pass around new plates with the new cake. Eddie would know what kind it was, if he had been able to listen to the baker instead of being completely enraptured by Buck and Tommy. The way they catch each other’s eye and share a secretive smile… It's alluring. The way their smiles sweeten, obviously in love and happy… Eddie wants to join them.

And Eddie realizes he knows exactly what that indefinable feeling plaguing him is.

It’s been obvious the whole time.

He drags his gaze away, looking straight ahead and meeting Karen’s eyes. They’re surprisingly sympathetic, like she’s experiencing something sad and wants nothing more than to fix it. Eddie can understand how she’s such a great mother, because he feels her love and he’s not even a child. Meeting her gaze is hard, but definitely easier than staring at the sweethearts.

“So Denny wants Chris to come over for a sleepover, I know we’re kind of busy now but since we’re both here we might as well chat about it,” Karen suggests as she tries the cake.

Eddie loves his family.

Grateful to her distraction his mind is taken off of the constant repetition of BuckTommyBuckTommyBuckTommy… or at the very least it’s an obnoxiously loud background noise.

“That’s perfect!” Eddie responds. “I can take them this next week if you could take them next sleepover.” Eddie subconsciously observes Tommy excusing himself and standing as he pulls out his phone to see his calendar. “Denny could come over this Friday. He could join in on our family night.”

“Yay!” Buck joins in to say after looking back from Tommy’s retreating form. “I’m excited! We’re going to have a Kung Fu Panda marathon so we can go watch the new one on Tuesday. Do you think Denny would like to come?”

“Definitely,” Karen says, all smiles. “Hen and I could use her day off to have a girl’s day with Mara. Denny went to my last salon and got embarrassed by all the grannies, he doesn’t want to go if they’re going to be there. They get… pinchy.”

Eddie laughs, “Oh my abuela and her book club are pinchy too. Every time they come around Chris he’s pretending he’s sick and wears his mask!”

“That’s smart!” Karen snaps her fingers. “I’ll have to tell Denny to use that one.”

“I’ll bet Chris already has,” Buck says. “Denny is just too sweet. Chris is more mischievous,” He rubs his head bashfully. “I swear that’s not from me.”

Everyone laughs. “Sure, Buck,” Hen says sassily, looking at him with a sisterly look. “Although, I will say he does get it from both of you.”

“Do what?” Maddie asks, leaning to face them better from the conversation she, Chim, Bobby and Athena had been having as it had come to an end.

“Chris got his player personality from both his dads,” Karen explains.

The entire table laughs.

“Oh goodness it is becoming apparent how alike our children are to us all,” Athena laughs waving her hands as she explains everything that had occured with Harry.

“I’m glad it’s all going to work out,” Buck says when she’s done.

Eddie nods, “Truly. Although, it all works out in the end, otherwise it’s not the end.” Everyone nods, adding on their own regards, but Eddie stops paying attention because it’s all taken by Buck discreetly excusing himself to the bathroom.

Which is a totally normal thing to do, but Eddie can’t stop focusing on the fact that Tommy isn’t back yet. The last time, he should have expected it and has been kicking himself for not realizing soon enough. Unable to give conversation, he crams his mouth with the rest of his cake and just nods along.

Ten minutes go by.

At this point he’s chewing mush, but he knows exactly what he’s going to do as soon as he’s done eating.

He swallows.

“Hey, I gotta go to the bathroom,” Eddie softly says as he stands up, pushing in his chair robotically. “I’ll be right back.”

The walk to the bathroom is thankfully short and the door is the same papery thin, sliding door that they had been led through before. Which means Eddie can hear them perfectly.

“You don’t think so?” Tommy is saying. “I know so, that's why I was feeling him out.”

“No way, he’s got all that Catholic guilt. Even if he could, he wouldn’t,” Buck replies.

“I’d beg to differ,” Tommy chuckles.

“Well I’m begging you to hurry,” Buck interrupts himself with a moan. “Please, oh my God, please .”

“Don’t beg God, keep begging me.”

There isn’t much talking after that. The time Eddie spends in that hallway feels innumerable. Able to easily listen, he makes sure to leave and be sat back in his spot well before they’re on their own way back.

Eddie finds that this time makes it no easier to meet the couple’s eyes.

The last time, Eddie had gone to Buck’s apartment after he and Marisol had gotten into an argument. In his defense, his spot had been open and only Buck’s Jeep had been in the apartment’s designated parking spaces. The walk up the parking garage stairs and to the elevator was daunting and the walk down the hallway to Buck's apartment was ominous, yet that was normal lately.

Maybe that's why he thinks nothing is off as he uses his key to unlock the apartment and goes in.

The sight that greets him is straight from a porno made by God for him.

Buck is bent over his counter, face twisted in a pert near illegal expression of pleasure, clearly overstimulated and loving it. Tommy is behind him, a similar countenance of ecstacy written across his face, dirty but adoring of the man beneath him. They are both facing the door, which means as soon as Eddie walks in and sights them that the opposite is true as well.

For a few seconds the momentum carries them through a few more thrusts and Eddie watches, captive to his own desire before he realizes this is real real life and not one of his repressed dreams.

“I'm sorry,” Eddie cries, trying to look away and failing as he backs up towards the door. “I'm going!”

“Eddie,” Buck says, voiced perfectly hoarse and fucked out. “Wait,” he straightens and Tommy backs up, pulling out evidently by the moans.

Eddie can't help but watch, but he also can't stay. Somehow he peels his gaze away, and runs from the apartment.

Upcoming Queue

(this is a rough draft outline. I wanted to cross-post what I have written so far because I can😎 I'd really like constructive feedback or someone to describe my writing. I'm also in need of a summary and I'm obviously no wordsmith)

(Blue are Posted, Red are Not Posted)

Chapter #1: Bi, Bi, Bi :: The set up OR As Eddie is setting up for a normal family night, Buck asks if Tommy can come and Eddie feels... Feelings about it.

Chapter #2: Bring in the Noise :: The set up pt2 OR An addition to family night doesn't disrupt it as worried.

Chapter #3: It Makes Me Ill :: Eddie has arrived in Jealousytown. All of the stops make him sick, especially when every stop be has to see Buck give love and attention at his will. And you can't imagine how it makes Eddie feel, to see them without him OR The 5 Times Eddie Catches BuckTommy.

Chapter #4: It's Gonna Be ME :: Eddie, Tommy and Buck get drunk at Chim’s bachelor party. Eddie makes a big confrontational speech to Tommy about how he thought they were friends and he can't believe he'd go behind his back type thing. Essentially telling Tommy there's been hundreds before him and Eddie's been there the whole time, it's gonna be him. Realizing he's made a fool of himself, Eddie runs off and avoids teven.

Chapter 5: No Strings Attached :: Eddie asking Chim, Hen and Bobby if he's homophobic, Chim says he's homo something (this is the plot bunny that started this fic)

Chapter 6: I Thought She Knew :: a proper break up with Marisol where he apologizes and she says she knows and there's no apology needed if he doesn't do it to another woman. They chat and he learns one of the big reasons she left is because she's bi too.

Chapter 7: Just Got Paid :: Eddie is still avoiding Buck and Tommy after Madney’s bachelor party and wedding but things are going more smoothly. Between more talks with Bobby and Hen he comes into his queer identity

Chapter 8: This I Promise You :: Confession

Chapter 9: Digital get down :: Domestic bliss 101

Chapter 10: That's When I'll Stop Loving You :: Found Family moment/telling the firefam

Chapter 11: Space Cowboy :: +1

Chapter 12: That's When I'll Stop Loving You :: Domestic bliss 202

[damned-punk]

What You Won’t Ever Find (Kidd x Reader)

Part Eight

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Content Warning: nsfw, modern!AU, suggestive language, unhealthy attachment, angst

Content Description: gn!reader meets Kidd in a bar and their relationship develops from there ♡

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Killer had to work the next day which was why he hadn’t attended the party and while you hated to bother him so late in the evening, you needed to know that Kidd was safe. He answered after a few rings but to your dismay, Kidd hadn’t come home and Killer hadn’t heard from him since he left hours earlier. None of it made any sense, he’d never done something quite like this before and it seemed so strange. Killer reassured you that while he was likely fine, he’d do what he could to locate him and that you should try calling him in the morning. He knew Kidd better than anyone and the fact that he’d told you to trying talking to him later didn’t sit right with you.

Did Killer know something you didn’t? You ran through every scenario of the evening but not even the slightest thing gave way as to why Kidd had disappeared. You’d already been waiting for him to return for just over an hour and since Killer didn’t seem too worried about it, you decided to just go home for the evening. You’d be lying to yourself if you said his actions weren’t hurtful, perhaps there was an unforeseen reason? Nevertheless, you tossed and turned until finally succumbing to sleep sometime in the early morning hours. The first thing you did when you woke up was dial his number. It rang for a little longer than you’d hoped and just as disappointment flared, your call was answered.

“Hello? Who the fuck is it?”, a voice you did not recognize asked, high pitched but groggy from being woken up.

“Who is this?”, you asked, doing what you could to maintain your composure, “Where is Kidd?”

“Still asleep, care to leave a message?”, the unknown person prompted with attitude.

“Are you at his house?”, you asked, ignoring the snarky tone the person had assumed.

“Yeah, I think so.”, they replied as your anger boiled over.

You immediately hung up and pulled yourself together as quickly as possible. Whatever was going on, you needed to see it for yourself. You fought against what would be the worst case scenario, attempting to rationalize that the person could be a friend of his that you just hadn’t met yet. Alternatively, you couldn’t shake the reality that the person could’ve been at the party last night and caught him alone after your heated exchange. You wanted to think that he wouldn’t go as far as to sleep with someone behind your back, but you weren’t sure of anything anymore. The fact that he’d left at all was enough of a problem in itself, made worse by the addition of his unknown accomplice.

And if he had slept with someone else, was it really feasible to be upset? No matter how often you saw each other or how much your time together meant, neither of you had given your situation a title. You didn’t want to overwhelm or press him to move too fast after he’d opened up about his continuous struggle with emotions, but you also couldn’t ignore the intense nausea that came from imagining him with someone else the same way he was with you. As you started pulling into his driveway, relief washed over you when you noticed his car was parked in its usual spot.

That relief was quickly eradicated because just as you stepped out to knock on the door, it swung open to reveal a shirtless Kidd and woman you’d never seen before. She wore a shirt that was very oversized, one that was eerily similar to those you’d borrowed from him. Several deep purple hickeys littered her neck, obviously created within the very recent past. They were talking and laughing far too merrily for your taste, all of it coming to a halt when their eyes fell upon you. Kidd froze in his tracks and felt like he’d been punched in the gut, he could do nothing but watch your eyes begin to water. The woman made her way to his car, slipping directly past you and into his passenger seat where you’d once sat not so long ago as the two of you got to know each other.

Your heart was pounding alarmingly hard and a deafening ringing sounded in your ears, the accumulation of stress and hurt was working against your ability to remain calm. You didn’t want to seem weak and you certainly didn’t want them to see you break down, but something had finally snapped. He’d made a couple mistakes during the several months that you’d been seeing each other, but this was something of an entirely different magnitude. Your face was so hot that you could barely feel the tears rolling down your cheeks, the only indication of your emotions was the shaking of your chest between deeply strained breaths. Kidd didn’t know what to do, he felt like the idea of even trying to begin to explaining himself was off the table which in turn caused his own rage to manifest. It wasn’t what it had looked like, at least not as far as he was concerned, he’d hoped to be able to send the girl on her way and blame his absence on the innumerable drinks he took in stride with his friends.

“What the fuck?”, you asked in defeat, the crackling of your voice serving to substantiate his surmounting guilt, “What the hell have we even been doing all this time?”

You weren’t sure if you were asking him or yourself, all you could really be certain of was the overwhelming feeling of humiliation. So much time and commitment felt like it’d been wasted but even more so than the loss, you felt stupid for thinking someone like him would ever take someone like you seriously. Even as he stood before you, clenching his fists and becoming consumed by wrath with each surmounting second, you mourned the person that you’d hoped he was. Kidd could be good, it was something that you’d experienced many times before and it was great, but it seemed that something like this was an inevitable part of being involved with him. Every incline was met with the eventual plummet, no matter how sublime things had been previously.

“(Y/N), I fucked up and we both know that.”, he said through gritted teeth, his breaths impossibly heavy, “I need some time to think… I don’t even know how to begin to explain this shit.”

“Did any of this mean anything to you?”, your voice raised involuntarily, “We talked about some really serious and personal things, Kidd. You know things about me that no one else has ever cared to know… This is making me fucking sick, I don’t understand why you’re like this.”

You knew you were spilling your innermost thoughts, but the situation was so turbulent that there was no chance in hell you could stop yourself. Grief and its many forms were sinking their teeth into the tattered remains of your pride, working to irritate what was already an open wound. You brought your hands to your face to cover your mouth as tears turned to full-on sobs. Kidd couldn’t take the intense feelings pilling on top of him so he relieved his stress the only way he knew how, carrying himself to the nearest tree and laying a heavy fist on its trunk. The sudden display of violence caused you to flinch, you’d never once feared him but the situation was taking a detrimental turn. He felt like a monster as he watched you tremble, this wasn’t what he wanted and was certainly never something he’d intended to happen. He’d told you time and time again that he wasn’t good with these things, this was the reason no one was ever glad to have met him.

“Of course you mean something to me!”, he shouted far too loudly, “If you didn’t, you’d fuckin’ know it! I wouldn’t waste my goddamn time!”

“Kidd, that’s enough! Get your ass inside and calm down!”, Killer scolded as he stepped out of the house to try and act as damage control, “(Y/N) please, I really don’t think it’s what it looks like. He’s got a bad temper, just give him a second.”

You appreciated Killer’s willingness to jump in the flames for his friend, you were happy to know that Kidd had someone like that on his side. If this behavior was usual for him, he’d need someone like Killer when everything inevitably falls apart time and time again. By this point you were becoming numb, your senses were heightened and you’d been feeling everything so intensely that nothing could register as it had before. It felt like you were watching things happen through a screen, unable to feel your lips moving and only hearing what you were saying.

“I think I should just go.”, you took several strides back to your car, “I’m not welcome here anymore.”

Despite walking through your own front door and seeking the comfort of your bed, you couldn’t recall the drive home. You couldn’t remember a time that you’d driven in silence, let alone a time that you couldn’t remember the task of traveling. To say that you were devastated was an understatement. If the woman was just a friend, why hadn’t either of them just come out and said that from the start? In the most rational division of your thoughts, you knew what the likely outcome was, you just couldn’t face it. Those few fatal minutes you’d spent helping Hip were so much more detrimental than either of you could’ve ever imagined. It wasn’t her fault by any stretch of the imagination, all the same her warning seared through the few lingering parts of your self worth.

Whether you’d listened to her then or now, the damage was done. Your feelings for Kidd had bloomed in spite of her warnings and you were finally paying the price. You wished you could say that you hated him but those feelings hadn’t changed in the slightest. He needed to take accountability for his actions and while you weren’t sure if your relationship was even a relationship to begin with anymore, you admittedly yearned for his comfort. He was somehow the disease and the cure, a twisted dichotomy that had been in motion since the first night you’d met. He hurt you then only to talk his way of it, you couldn’t let that happen again.

You could hear your phone’s incessant buzzing from its place on your nightstand, you certainly didn’t have the energy to answer it. You could see Kidd’s name brandished on the screen, not at all prompting you to answer and instead bringing you to tears once more. What was the point if something like this was going to restart your relationship every few weeks? You had a lot of love for him, but it clearly had nowhere to go.

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A/N: Thank you for reading! All characters presented in the story have been caricatured to fit the desired plot devices. Some interactions and situations may read out of character, this is only to progress the story and does not reflect my view of their canon personalities.

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[taegularities]

some men are textbook villains fr

[mamawasatesttube]

i keep thinking there are people on here i would love to like. add on discord and actually talk to more. but then i think to myself well i should wait until i can get my meds so im actually feeling better and more up to being social. but at this point that's not happening for another few weeks at the least so uugghghghghhh.

[icewindandboringhorror]

There's always a slight yearning in the back of my mind wishing I had been born in the right place, time, family situation, income level, etc. to have just lived in one single house for my entire life. Imagine being born in a place that still suits you, even through all of your personal evolutions and etc. The idea of deep familiarity with an area because you've lived and explored it for 40+ years, being encased in a web of memories and connections. Being able to clean out your old childhood bedroom and find personal artifacts, to dig in the yard and remember. I know those lives can still be plenty imperfect, but there's just something so seemingly solid and stable and Grounding about it that I sometimes wish I could have.. (At least from my outside perspective as someone who's moved around a bit geographically and even within the same area, never lives in the same house/ apartment /etc. for more than a few years usually.) Like... having a place that is printed upon, fully your own, rather than chronically a visitor, every thought of a space always tempered with the notion that one day soon you'll have to pack it all up again, etc. There's something peaceful about the permanence.

[frownyalfred]

Why would you hold back on talking about a fictional lil guy on the talk about fictional lil guys website

Because this blog would turn into a Commander Cody blog in like .2 seconds and I would never emerge to write DC fanfiction again.

Since folks seem pretty attached to the latter…..I keep my love under wraps 😅

[mattodore]

i’ve been pretty quiet on here and avoiding my activity and dms these last few weeks because october was easily one of the worst months i’ve had in a very long time and i lost my family dog of seventeen years and had a medical scare for not only myself but my cat and just all these things happened at once that felt incredibly hard to bounce back from mentally… but aside from being sick atm things are starting to get better for me and my family so hopefully i can actually start being. normal. again soon 🧎