#has fall out boy heard me sing?

[rcade]

Fall Out Boy sent us flowers

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: February 26

“Diamonds in the Mud” by Gerry Cinnamon

[churipu]

"SHUT UP, MAMA." 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, nanami kento

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. fem! reader, husband! au, i made names for your children but feel free to disregard it

note. i remembered this tiktok trend, just figured i should write about how the jjk men would react to their child doing this.

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

gojo had a day off. it's rare for a jujutsu sorcerer like him — being the strongest, he's an asset to the jujutsu world. so him being in a day off is like a miracle to both you and your seven year old son, who might i say, is an exact carbon copy of your husband.

"honey, you need to put your toys away. it's almost dinner time," you said from the kitchen, gojo by your side, ready to help you with anything.

"let me take that," he sings out, grabbing two plates from your grasp — you chuckled, letting him take the white colored ceramic disk, "looks good, baby."

as you and gojo walked out of the kitchen, placing the plates on top of the dining table. gojo pulled out your seat for you. habits die hard, the male has always pulled your seat out for you since the very first date.

your son. marise gojo. a boisterous little boy, absolutely loves to play with his rocket toys, and somehow believes he's a little astronaut. there he sat in front of the TV, playing with his toys, an astronaut helmet covering his small head.

"buddy," gojo calls out to the boy, "it's dinner time, clean up your toys. mama made some good food."

when gojo's call didn't work, you tried doing it next, "marise, your food's going to get cold, honey."

the young boy didn't make any visible movements, but you heard him yell out with his high pitched voice, "shut up, mama!"

gojo looks at you briefly. i mean — as a father, he couldn't believe his own son said that. to his mother. gojo wasn't one to get mad, in fact, marise is a total daddy's boy. but he felt angry, frustrated, annoyed, all at once.

he wasted no time leaping up from his seat, approaching the young boy. his smile no longer visible; gojo was unhappy. the male used one of his hands to take off marise's astronaut helmet, tossing it aside before grabbing the young boy by his small waist.

marise didn't complain, and he still has no idea of what his father is about to do. so he just sat still in gojo's embrace — until gojo puts him down beside you, "say sorry."

marise's bright blue eyes stared up at gojo in confusion, "say sorry to mama, marise."

it wasn't "baby" or "buddy" like gojo used to address him by, and marise wasn't stupid. he knew he did something wrong, but he just didn't get what or why his father is telling him to apologize to you.

"sorry mama . . ." marise's soft voice resounds.

"do you know what you did wrong?" gojo questions sternly.

marise shook his head, his eyes watering at gojo's tone of voice, "no papa . . ."

gojo sighs, he squats down and gazes into his son's eyes, "you should never say 'shut up' to mama or papa, okay? not to anyone, 'ts not polite. don't ever do that again, now say sorry to mama for saying that."

marise nods his head and turns to look at you, his eyes watering — it's not everyday that you get to see papa gojo get angry, "'m sorry mama, i will never do that again," the young boy finally cried, letting his tears fall out of his doe eyes.

you can't help but to smile at the young boy, pulling him onto your lap to cradle him, "don't do that again, baby. 'ts not polite," your fingers grazed his chubby cheeks, wiping his tears away, "and if mama or papa tells you to stop playing and eat, what do you do?"

marise sniffled, "stop playing and eat."

"good boy," you kissed his little forehead, "go give papa a kiss."

and that marise did, gojo immediately picking the boy into his arms with a big smile, "give papa two kisses, buddy."

sure, gojo is a fun parent. but he knows how to teach his children boundaries — what to do and what not to do. he's scary when he's angry.

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

megumi is the child that made you and toji think you both should have another child — fukuo is the child that made you and toji stop wanting more children. not saying that fukuo is a bad kid, but the boy is relentless.

with a pretty large age difference between megumi and fukuo with six years, sometimes megumi had to teach fukuo some manners, telling the younger boy what's right and wrong. when fukuo misbehaves, it's megumi and you to the rescue — while toji would usually chuckle it off since, well, he's a little minus on the manners part as well. but you're working on that.

toji said so himself, he wouldn't mind fukuo misbehaving on some things. but the male did set some boundaries up for both of his boys and how they should act well towards you (and him).

today, megumi is twelve and fukuo is six. both of your boys look alike, "mama, 'm gonna be staying late at school because we have a play coming, 'm gonna help my classmate decorate the stage," megumi tells you as he puts on his shoes.

"alright, baby. have a good day at school, i love you," you pressed a kiss on megumi's head, waving him goodbye.

as megumi disappears behind the front door, you walk back inside the house, "toji, wake fukuo up, please. 'm getting his breakfast ready," toji who had his eyes on the television curtly nodded, sluggishly walking towards the boy's room.

"hey, champ." toji approaches the boy, who was sleeping soundly, "your mother's made some good food f' you. if you're not gonna eat it, i'll steal your portion."

fukuo squirmed a bit, but his eyes were still shut tightly, "fukuo," toji gently shook the boy, poking his cheek.

like anyone, fukuo didn't like his sleep disturbed, "papa, stop . . ." he mumbled out, shifting his small body so his little back was facing toji, "five more minutes."

toji sighs, "five more minutes."

he then went out of the room, "he asked for five more minutes," he informs you — sitting back down on the couch.

"five more minutes," was not an unfamiliar statement to you, especially coming from fukuo who had always managed to, of course, butcher the concept of time right after. it was either an hour, or more.

so you waited five minutes, and when the young boy didn't emerge from his bedroom, you found yourself walking towards it, "fukuo? baby, come on, mama made you breakfast . . ." you turn on the light, which made fukuo subconsciously twitch.

"fukuo, come on, papa will eat your breakfast . . ." you shook the boy gently.

"shut up, mama."

you blinked in surprise, but only managed out an exasperated sigh at the boy's sudden outburst, until all of a sudden toji appears beside you — his hand wet, and he slides his palm across the boy's face with a serious look on his face.

"wake up, fukuo. i won't tell you this again," toji mutters out, "three."

oh, god. the countdown was every kid's nightmare, "two," including fukuo's — shown by how the young boy immediately sat up on his bed, "apologize to your mother."

fukuo furrowed his brows, "why?"

"you don't tell her to shut up. apologize." you were just there silently, a little shocked at how toji had become so serious when he's usually so laid-back with the boys, "say sorry and eat your breakfast."

fukuo swallows his saliva nervously and scoots over to you, "'m sorry for telling you to shut up mama, i promise i won't do that again . . ." he whispers, throwing his short arms around your neck — burying his face into the crook of your neck.

you pulled him close, carrying the young boy in your arms, "'ts okay baby, no more telling people to shut up, okay? 's not nice, it'll hurt people's feelings."

"okay mama . . . 'm sorry for hurting your feelings," fukuo pulls back slightly, pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek before facing toji, "'m sorry for hurting mama's feelings, papa."

toji placed his palm over the boy's face, covering it entirely, a sheepish smirk plastered on his lips, "go brush y'r teeth and eat your breakfast, mama made some pancakes."

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎

nanami is such a girl dad. ever since he found out that both of you were going to have a baby girl, he's delighted. just knowing that he'd have a mini version of the both of you made his stomach churn in happiness.

hoshi. nanami hoshi is her name. it was a very peaceful six years of raising her — but they said there will be a devil baby phase, and here she was. whining, throwing tantrums over things she didn't get. it was honestly tiring, but you knew this was a risk of raising a child.

"hoshi, baby, please stand up." you cooed down at the girl who was lying down on the ground. in the middle of a mall, "mama and papa will buy that toy for you next time, i promise."

nanami was by your side, holding onto the baby stroller. his eyes were unreadable, you don't know what he had in mind, but the look he peered at your daughter was plainly and eerily terrifying.

yes, there are moments where he spoils hoshi with what she wants. toys, food, drinks, you name it. but there are times where he declines because he didn't want her to grow up too spoiled, "i wan' that toy, mama!"

you inhaled sharply, trying to slide your hand underneath her armpits to pick her up, but hoshi refused by kicking your hands away. her little kicks barely scratched you — but the people looking at your small family as they passed by definitely got a little kick to you.

"baby, people are looking at you . . ." you whispered.

"i don't care, shut up, mama!"

that was the last straw for nanami who had been silent. he grabbed your arm and tugged you up gently, nodding at you as if telling you to leave this one to him.

you backed away slightly, taking a hold of the stroller nanami had let go a few seconds prior as he squats down. forcefully but gently slipping his hands underneath hoshi's armpits, carrying her into his arms.

"mama said we will buy that toy for you next time, okay?" he sternly said, eyeing his little girl who was now silent as she gazed into his eyes, "and you never. never tell mama to shut up, do you understand?"

hoshi nods her head slowly, lips quivering at her father's sudden lecture, nanami's eyes visibly softened and he rocked her in his arms, "papa's not angry at you, hoshi. but papa wants you to know that telling mama to shut up is not polite, okay?"

again hoshi nods her head.

"go and say that you're sorry to mama," he pecked her chubby cheeks before letting her down onto the ground.

hoshi's little legs ran towards you, hugging your leg, "'m so sorry mama," she muffles into your leg, "i don't want the toy anymore, mama. 'm sorry for being a bad girl."

you squat down, nuzzling your nose to her, "you're not a bad girl, baby . . . mama and papa will buy you that next time, okay? we promise."

"okay, mama. i love you."

© CHURIPU 2024 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[lovifie]

Masterlist Phone Sex with Boyfriend!Simon

"Are you home?"

”Are you home?”

That's the signal that you have learned, and the only one Simon gives you, your phone rings as soon as you send your positive answer.

“Hi, Simon.” You say with a singing voice when you pick up the call, pressing your phone against your ear.

“Hi, darling.” His deep voice grumbles through the phone, making you bite your lips as the sound travels down your body. 

The indubitable sound of his buckle being toyed with sounds loud and clear in the background. 

“Aw, Simon… are you missing me, sweet boy?” You say with a pout in your voice, using your shoulder to hold your phone while you twist off the cap of the nail polish bottle. 

“Every bloody second, sweetheart.”

Your heart warms with his shameless declaration, making you smile even though he can't see your face. 

“My pretty boy, I miss you too…” The line stays quiet for a minute, only his breathing audible; until you break the silence. “Does your pretty cock hurt, darling?”

“Yeah, fuck, yes it does.” He groans, a squeaky sound of the spring of the mattress sounding under his voice. He must be thrashing around on the bed, desperate. And you thought you had trained him better. 

“You should do something about it then, Simon.” You say, raising your foot to rest on the edge of the chair kicking your slipper off. “Don’t you think?”

“Can I?” His breathless voice betrays him, letting you see as clear as day how desperate he is. 

Good boy.

“Of course you can, love.” You answer, chuckling to yourself.

The response is immediate. Loud in the silence of the call, you hear how he gets his belt undone, throwing the buckle back carelessly so his aching member can find solace in the harsh wrap-up of his hand. 

His first moan comes to life right after the first tug, desperate, to the point it makes you wonder for how long he has fought with himself to not call you only to get conquered by the lustful needs of his body.

The buckle of the belt jangles in the background like a metronome with each flick of his wrist, the telltale sound of the rhythm he is setting.

“Talk to me, pet. Please.” His voice is whiny on your ear, desperation oozing out of each syllable, almost enough to make you feel bad about how unbothered you are by it. 

It's not that having your poor boyfriend calling you in desperation to hear your voice so he can actually cum doesn't turn you on, c’mon, you are not made of stone. But it also feeds your voracious ego, filling you with cockiness that you know he will quickly wipe out of you the moment he's back. 

But he is away now, and in this situation, you have the upper hand; threatening to close it around his neck knowing he would enjoy it more than yourself. And it would be such a waste of an opportunity if you didn't choke him a little bit. 

“Have you been thinking about me, love? Hm? Is that why you are so worked up?” You ask, picking the brush soaked in nail polish and applying it over your thumbnail. His whiny moan of your name is all you get as an answer, choppy breaths surrounding it helping it travel right to your core. “Been thinking about me touching you, hm? Wrapping my lips around your poor weeping cock, Simon?”

“Fuckin’ hell, luv…” He groans back, you hear the springs of the mattress again when he moves.

“Are you lying down, Simon?” You ask when you are on your third nail. A weak, high-pitched whine is all you get as an answer, a yes, you assume. “Stop then.”

queaky queaky queaky

“Simon.”

queaky queaky queaky

“Simon, stop touching yourself.”

…

“What?” He's breathing so hard it is almost difficult to understand him.

“Did I stutter? Stop touching yourself. Hands up, pretty boy.” You almost don't recognise your voice, an authoritative tone improper of a civilian talking to a lieutenant.

But he obliges, immediately, if he wasn't breathing so loud you could have heard the soft thud of his length falling red and angry over his abdomen. 

“For god's sake, sweetheart, please.” He groans, but you can no longer hear the mattress squeaking or his buckle being shaken. Obedient little soldier he is. 

“Who called me?” You ask, acting incredulous that he would now not let you do your part. He mumbles a tiny “me” making you smile once again. “Then do as I say, love.”

He huffs without a further complaint, waiting for your next words so he can finally move. 

“Put me on speaker, and the phone on your chest so your hands are free.” You say, moving to paint your other hand. He does as instructed, hearing the rustling of his shirt as he lays his phone. “Now wrap your hand around your dick, both of them, tight. And move, slowly!” 

You punctuate the last word with emphasis, hanging on the line to hear his movements but all you hear are his pretty sighs and puffs. You groan, making him stop in his movements once again. “Not your hands, Simon. Your hips. Move your hips.”

“What? Like-”

“Yeah, Simon. I want you to fuck your fists and imagine it is me the one your fucking.” You say, chuckling when you hear him moan. His voice sounds suddenly loudly and you assume his phone must have slipped up toward his face when he planted his feet on the mattress, thrusting his hips up. 

“There you go, good boy, Simon.” You say, melodic voice making Simon shudder as he throws his head back, moaning shamelessly as his hips move faster and faster to meet the tight embrace of his fists. 

Every time that an especially loud whine falls from his lips you coo at him, the mental image of him with his eyebrows furrowed, teeth digging into his bottom lip to try and catastrophically fail to keep his voice down making your mouth water. 

He calls your name again, begging for your attention as he mumbles incoherent words and you pity him only when you are done with your nails, waiting for them to dry as you turn your attention to him. 

“C’mon, darling.” You half-whisper to him. “Give it to me, love… Think that it is not your hands, think that it is my pretty cunt around your dick right now. I know you can.”

A cry of your name. 

“Think is my sweet cunt sucking you in, hm? Doing that thing that you love me to do.”

A low groan.

“Think that you are fucking me stupid, Simon. Moaning your name and milking you empty, love.”

A minute-long silence right before a chain of curses starts to spill from his lips, the squeaky sounds of the bed growing irregular as he cums over his own chest in thick spurs making him dizzy. 

You blow on your nails, happy with the results and waiting for your dear boyfriend to come down from his high as you sweet talk him. “You did so good, Simon… My darling… My sweet boy… My baby…”

“Watch it, you little minx”

You shiver at the sudden switch, remembering the temporal aspect of your position. Downing on you every single word you just pronounce and every condescending tone you use. 

Luckily for you, his deployment is meant to go on for a couple of weeks longer; enough for him to grow desperate enough and not pay you back with the same coin you just used. 

No need to worry about the consequences of your actions any time soon. 

“And by the way, sweetheart.” He says once his breathing is back to normal, the sound of his buckle jangling again. “The OP was cut short and I'm getting home sooner.”

You swallow. “How much is sooner?”

“Tomorrow's night”

@crashtestbunny @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @waiting-so-long @mothymunson @cod-z

@lyralein @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121

@spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock @arbesa-mind @cmbghost

@multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles

@cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat @lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria

@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @fraserbraw @rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow

@hxnneydew @sobbingnshtting @dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger

@soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @thesinsoflust

@sodavrr @yuki2129 @idk-justkane @shanhalen @dukeofjjune

@vane28282 @dracu1ara @vivi2e @lordbugs @murder-hobo

[steddiealltheway]

One thing that sucks about fighting monsters from some weirdly dusty and gooey parallel universe to your own… is going back to school. Specifically going back after telling all your friends that they’re actually trust fund assholes and your girlfriend - ex-girlfriend - ends up with the one guy she swore up and down was just a friend.

Not that Steve really blames Nancy for that. Jonathan’s a good dude. Plus, it’s not like Steve was the perfect boyfriend or anything. He tried, but maybe it just wasn’t enough.

Maybe it’ll never be enough.

Steve takes a sudden right, making a detour from all the student rushing into the lunchroom in favor of being anywhere but there. He barely registers walking out of the school until he notices the woods in front of him. Why does everything always lead him back to here?

He doesn’t know why, maybe it’s what Dustin call his “mother hen” instinct, but Steve continues walking into the woods, wondering if maybe there are more monsters lurking about that he can spot early this time. God knows he would do anything for those kids - not that he would tell them that. Dustin especially does not need the ego boost.

So Steve wanders, listening closely for any unusual noise.

And then he hears one.

It’s just the thud of something metal sounding against maybe… a tree? Something solid. Then a crunch of leaves. And…

Singing?

Steve slowly peaks around a tree and finds the source of all the noise.

Eddie Munson.

Steve nearly rolls his eyes but finds himself fondly watching the boy as he drums on a wooden picnic table singing some song Steve has never heard. It’s when Eddie does some type of ridiculously uncoordinated twirl that Steve ends up snorting. It’s loud enough that Eddie ends up hearing it, startling mid turn and head bang that has him misstepping and landing right on his ass.

Steve tries to let some sheepishness bleed through the amusement in his expression. “You okay, man?” He asks, stepping forward to offer him a hand.

Eddie eyes it wearily. “Depends. What are you doing out here?”

“Just…” Steve stares at Eddie for a moment, trying to find a normal answer, but instead he shrugs and sighs, “I don’t know, man.” He takes another step closer and pointedly looks down at his offered hand.

Eddie narrows his eyes at him before taking it carefully. Steve is caught off guard by the cold metal rings but hauls Eddie up easily who wobbles when he gets to his feet. “Thanks,” Eddie breathes out, lingering in Steve’s space.

Steve just nods and wonders if Eddie Munson’s eyes have always been so big and brown.

“So, Steve Harrington,” Eddie starts, drawling out his name while taking a step back and brushing dirt off his pants, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Steve raises an eyebrow.

Eddie marches over to the picnic table and gestures dramatically at his lunch box. “I’m assuming you’re here for the goods?”

“The what?”

“Drugs, Harrington. Are you alright?” Eddie asks with a tilt of his head leaning forward as if assessing him.

Steve shrugs. “Fine. And no. I’m not here for your drugs which you evidently keep in your lunch box for any teacher to find.” Eddie’s brows furrow. Steve rolls his eyes. “I know you sell, but Tommy usually does this part.”

“I know,” Eddie replies as he hops up on the bench and crosses his arms. He faces Steve and bends at the waist - Steve ignores the urge to reach out and steady him so he doesn’t fall again. “So what are you doing out here? Are you here to… beat me up?” Eddie asks dramatically, hopping onto the table and pretending to brandish a sword.

Steve simply raises his eyebrows and crosses his arms.

Eddie’s arms drop. “Okay. Surprising but I guess you would’ve already taken a swing if you wanted a fight.” He squats down on the table until he’s eye level with Steve. “You’re not here because of the rumors, right?” Eddie asks, dropping his voice and appearing weirdly serious.

As for the rumors, Steve’s sure he’s heard more than he can count - including one about Munson being a vampire - so he’s not sure what he’s talking about. He’s also not sure if he wants to know which rumors he’s talking about. Steve runs a hand through his hair and settles his hands on his hips. “I just needed to clear my head. I didn’t know you were out here.”

Eddie squints at him. “You’re clearing your head by taking a walk in the woods?”

“Yes.”

They hold eye contacts for a few moments, and Steve can’t really tell what they’re silently sizing each other up about. Eddie reluctantly stands up and jumps off the table. “Fine. What are you clearing your head about?”

Steve stares at him.

“What?”

“Why do you want to know?”

Eddie steps closer to him and obnoxiously twirls a piece of hair around his finger. “Because you’re Steve Harrington, and I must be the luckiest guy in all of Hawkins since I’ve got you here alone with me.”

Steve laughs loudly and gently shoves Eddie away. “Shut up.”

Eddie’s cheeks flush pink, and Steve can almost see him biting back the words “make me.” Then he’s reminded of the rumor that Eddie bats for the other team, and Steve suddenly wonders if it’s true - not that he would mind.

Steve pushes the thought away as Eddie smiles sincerely and pushes some hair in front of his face. “Maybe I wouldn’t mind the company. Plus,” he turns and sprawls back on the picnic bench, “You can tell me anything. I’m great at keeping secrets, and even if I wasn’t, it would be your word against mine.”

Steve considers what he’s said before asking, “And how crazy of a secret would you not only keep but believe?”

Eddie smiles almost manically. “Try me.”

Steve looks around wondering if the government people or whoever they were can hear him out here. He’s not sure if it’s been long enough to guarantee there’s not someone keep track of each of them, waiting for them to slip up. He also wonders how cruel it would be to unload all of this onto Eddie. Steve knows life was much simpler before he knew that demogorgans existed.

“I’ve been fighting… some monsters recently,” Steve settles on, hoping Eddie doesn’t take it so literally.

“Yeah?”

Steve nods and takes a step closer to where Eddie is sitting, gesturing at nothing as he continues, “It started when I was an asshole to Nance and then she ran off with Jonathan and the rest is history there but… they really dragged me into some heavy shit.”

“I can imagine. It’s not every day that your girlfriend runs off with another guy. Which is a shitty thing to do by the way.”

Steve tries to steer the conversation away from his failed relationship without setting off Eddie’s alarm bells. “It’s not that I really blame them. I mean you’ve seen them, everyone has, they’re kind of made for each other. Who am I to get in the way of that? Especially since I was a shitty boyfriend. But that’s not the point. Before Nance left, I was pulled into helping some…” he pauses, trying to think of a way to talk about the kids out of context without sounding like a creep. “Well, there was this guy who needed help and so… I helped him and his friends out.”

Eddie fixes him with a carefully blank look. “Helped this guy out… how exactly?”

Steve shrugs and sits next to Eddie as he figures out how to phrase things. “He… well. His cat… di- escaped! It escaped. And I was helping him find it, and we actually grew pretty close.”

Eddie knocks his knee against Steve’s. “So… you and this guy grew… close.”

Steve nods and smiles. “Yeah, he’s this dumbass genius k-,” he cuts himself off before he can say kid. “Anyways, then his friends needed help, and I helped them fight… their monsters.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows at him. “So you helped… multiple guys… fight their… monsters?”

Steve nods. “Yeah. But that’s over and now I have to go back here and pretend that none of that ever happened. It just… sucks, man.”

Eddie nods. “Uh. Yeah. I can imagine pretending for so long is... exhausting.”

“Tell me about it,” Steve says with a laugh.

A silence falls between them and Eddie glances over at him. “You know… you don’t have to pretend with me.”

Steve smiles and wonders what not pretending means now, but it’s sounds good nonetheless. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

Eddie softly smiles and his eyes move down to Steve’s lips slowly. “Yeah?”

And oh. Oh. There was definitely a miscommunication somewhere along the way. And… okay. Fighting monsters and helping guys fight their monsters is maybe not the best phrasing. But Steve thinks he likes Eddie remaining so blissfully ignorant.

So, Steve kisses him.

And yeah. Maybe there are quite literally hundreds of different ways he could’ve let Eddie remain oblivious to the whole vague Upside Down retelling, but Steve can’t really complain when Eddie kisses him back, finding the scrape of stubble against his face surprisingly pleasant.

And Steve finds himself taking his time thoroughly allowing Eddie to believe this story that Steve wishes were true rather than the real thing. It’s only when Eddie’s watch beeps that they finally pull away for longer than a few seconds.

“Shit,” Eddie mumbles, resting his forehead against Steve’s, “Time to head back in.”

“Can’t skip?” Steve asks, wondering why he’s trying so hard to solidify his false story.

Eddie sighs and pulls away. “Unfortunately, if I skip anymore, they’re not going to let me graduate. Although right now I think spending more time with you might be more important than my diploma.”

Steve laughs and feels himself pleasantly flushing. He nudges Eddie’s shoulder with his own before standing up and offering his hand to him again. “Come on. We can’t have you not graduating again.”

“Again? Harrington, are you keeping tabs on me?”

Steve raises his eyebrows at him as Eddie takes his hand and pulls himself off the bench. “And what if I am?” He flirts easily.

Eddie smiles giddily and grabs his lunch box. “Then I really must be the luckiest boy in Hawkins.”

Steve doesn’t say anything when Eddie doesn’t let go of his hand as they walk out of the woods toward the school. It’s only as the school slowly comes into sight that Eddie drops Steve’s hand and shoves his hands into his pockets. He stops in his tracks and turns to Steve. “Hey, thanks for not pretending with me.”

Steve glances at the school before moving in to give Eddie one final kiss. He lingers in it before breaking away to say, “Thank you for listening.”

They wordlessly separate as the head back to the building, knowing that even with the few weeks of school left and both of their tarnished reputations that they can’t truly risk it all.

As Steve makes it to his class just before the final bell rings, he’s left to wonder if maybe he really does have some other type of monsters to fight. And he really hopes Eddie Munson can be there to help him with those ones again.

[zepskies]

This One's For You

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader || Ben & daughter!OC (Lila)

Summary: Late one night, finding no other recourse, Ben sings to his infant daughter to help her sleep.

AN: Thanks to this request, this one’s set between Until Morning and Green in the BMD-verse.

Word Count: 1.2K

Song Inspo: "Hey There Delilah" by Plain White T's

Tags/Warnings: Grumpy Ben, established relationship, potential fluff overload.~

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

“Your daughter’s awake,” Ben grumbled into his pillow.

He didn’t need to have sensitive hearing to pick up on the infant’s whining in her crib.

“She’s only my daughter when she has a rough night.” You sighed and turned away from him on your side of the bed. You clutched at your pillow. “It’s your turn, pal.”

His eyes cracked open. He gave you a look of annoyance behind your back.

“I have to get up in three hours for work,” he said.

You didn’t seem to care. You were so tired, he already heard your deeper breaths in sleep. In fairness, you essentially hadn’t slept for three days now. Your daughter was a demanding little thing, with some powerful goddamn lungs.

When another insistent whine and a hiccupping cry reached his ears, Ben released a sound of frustration. He knew he wouldn’t be able to fall asleep until the house was silent again, so after another beat, he finally peeled back the covers. Sliding out of bed, he padded out on bare feet down the hall to the nursery, wearing his usual pair of sweatpants.

He peered over the side of the crib and found Lila blinking up at him. Her tears clung to her lashes as she wriggled around in upset.

“What’s the matter now?” he asked, as if the baby could answer him.

He reached in with careful hands and picked her up, resting her on his chest. She sniffed and predictably latched onto his hair as she cried.

He checked her in various ways, but she didn’t smell like a full diaper (upon which, he would've handed her over to you). She seemed fine, which meant she was being finicky just for the hell of it.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. Come on,” he said as he paced the room with her. “Quiet the fuck down already.”

Still, she wouldn’t stop crying. The whimpers were pitiful, but at least they weren’t ear-splitting wails this time. He just really needed her to stop so he could sleep, expeditiously.

After several minutes with no improvement, however, Ben sighed and dropped down into the rocking chair. He was coming to the end of his tether.

“All right, what’s it gonna take for you to relax?” he muttered. At this point, he wasn’t above bribery. Candy? Money? A new fucking car? Hell, he’d get her a fleet of Ferraris if it’d make her pipe down.

He held Lila in the crook of his arm and tried rocking back and forth in the chair. When that didn’t work, he tried humming a tune—something he’d heard on the radio that now wouldn’t get out of his damn head. The only reason he remembered it was because of his daughter’s name.

“Oh, it’s what you do to me, oh, it’s what you do to me,” he sang softly, deep and baritone, and a little coarse from sleep. (And possibly a little off-key.)

Lila seemed to ease up a little in response to his voice, blinking up at him with those pretty green eyes. Maybe that was the solution.

He cleared his throat in slight embarrassment. He looked in the doorway to make sure he was alone before he kept going with this.  

Okay, what’re the words to the goddamn song…

“H-Hey there, Delilah, what’s it like in New York City?” he started, a bit unsure. The baby blinked up at him, holding a little fist in her mouth. Tears continued to stream down her cheeks while she whimpered, but she looked like she was listening, at least. 

“I'm a thousand miles away, but girl, tonight you look so pretty,” Ben continued. He couldn’t help softening a bit, looking down on her. He swept a tear from her cheek with his thumb.

“Yes, you do. Time Square can’t shine as bright as you…I swear it’s true.”

Tomorrow he was scheduled for another mission out of New York, with Butcher and the rest of the team. Ben didn’t know how long he’d be gone.

“Hey there, Delilah, don't you worry about the distance,” he sang, “I'm right there if you get lonely. Give this song another listen…”

He wouldn’t admit it, but it was hard to leave you and Lila. She was still so small, and he didn’t like the thought of you two being alone, even if Frank was watching out for you.

But Ben had a job to do.

“Close your eyes,” he almost whispered. “Listen to my voice, it’s my disguise. I’m by your side…”

Lila had begun to settle down. He dried her tears as he continued to rock her, continued to hum the melody of the chorus. He couldn’t remember most of the song after that, but there were a few more lines he did have rolling around in his head.

“Hey there, Delilah, here’s to you,” he sang quietly. “This one’s for you…”

 Just then, Ben thought he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He glanced up and found you there, leaning in the doorway. You were holding up your cell phone.

His brows knitted together in a glare.

“What the fuck’re you doing?” he said, sharp and incredulous.

“Shhh,” you reminded him, pointing at the baby. He saw your smirk below the frame of the phone.

Ben looked down and found that Lila was finally asleep. Gritting his teeth, he got up slowly. You were filming him all the while, even with your hair wild in bedhead and your pajama top hanging off your shoulder. Apparently, embarrassing him was more important than sleep.

Ben gently set her back down in the crib. Once he made sure she was safe and settled in sleep, he turned and saw that you were still filming him. He hoped you captured the deathly look of warning on his face.

You bit your lip. Without either of you saying anything, you darted off down the hall. Ben stalked after you.

“Woman, you better get the fuck back here!” he hissed in a coarse whisper. You struggled to contain your laughter.

“You’ll have to catch me first, old man,” you teased.

He chased you around the house—almost knocking over a lamp in the process—until he got ahold of you, and more importantly your phone. He grabbed it out of your hand and held you flush against him with an ironclad arm around your waist.

Ben looked down at you both in satisfaction, and a warning not to try anything else. You laughed and took his bearded face in your hands. You pulled him down to you for a placating kiss.

"You do have a nice voice," you whispered near his lips.

"Shut it. You're on thin fucking ice with me," he groused, with a shake of his head when it only reignited your inane giggling.

His lips reluctantly tugging at a smile, he silenced you with a deeper kiss.

The joke was on him though. While you were running around, you already managed to drop that video into the group chat with Hughie, Annie, and all the rest of your friends at Supe Affairs.

Come the morning, Ben was about to have a very interesting day at the office. 

AN: 😂 Did you enjoy another dose of dad!Ben in the BMD-verse? 💚

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Coming up next, Ben gets his revenge in Lesson Learned:

Summary: There’s only so much teasing Ben is willing to take. He has no choice but to punish you.

▶️ Keep Reading: Lesson Learned

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[ervotica]

could I please get a Cato x soft/quiet gf reader she’s really good at hiding and when he’s training or even talking with friends she sneaks a kiss when he’s not looking and disappears until one day he finally catches her and gives her a real kiss💓

pairing: cato hadley x fem!reader

summary: you hide from cato when he wants a kiss. he always finds you in the end...

hunger games masterlist

Cato has always thought you're charming in a sort of elusive way; you're not a particularly social creature, quick on your feet and opting to hide and duck out of people's line of sight before they've even spotted you. It's endearing, truly, but it tends to frustrate him when all he wants is a kiss from you.

Cato's practicing his knife throwing in an empty field lined with dummies. He brings his elbow up and over his head before letting the blades cut through the air and thwack as they lodge themselves in the targets every time. You watch, entranced - perched just out of his line of sight - as his muscles ripple and flex with his movements; you imagine how they feel under your touch, his warm skin under your hands.

He's just thrown the last one when your cold fingertips graze his waist; his t-shirt has ridden up to expose a pale sliver of skin: ridged abs and a line of blonde hair that disappears beneath his low hung shorts.

He reaches out but you're too quick, ducking under his armpit and snaking up his front for a chaste peck before you're off again.

"Hey!" he yells as you disappear up a nearby tree. "Come back!"

He crosses his arms and plants himself at the roots of the tree, glaring up as you keep climbing. You giggle, traversing the length of a particularly thick branch and wrapping your legs around the width of it in order to hang upside down. Your hair forms what can only be described as a halo as you swing from side to side and grin.

"Cato," you hum, sing-song voice taunting him. He creeps closer and tries his luck in catching you. You're faster, snapping back up to lay horizontally on the branch, too high for even your hulking boyfriend to reach.

"Come here!" he huffs, brow knit as he stares up at you. You only scrunch your nose and raise an eyebrow and his tone changes like the flick of a switch. "Baby, please. C'mere."

You only shake your head and wiggle your fingers at the blonde boy and he seizes the opportunity, locking his fingers with your own as they reach for him enticingly. Your eyes widen and you shriek as he tugs and you come toppling down rather unceremoniously.

Of course he wouldn't let you fall and you land in a heap in his arms, hair static and frazzled as he sets you down.

“Cato!” You scold. “That’s not funny!”

He presses his chest close, his face burying in the juncture of your neck as he kisses and nips at the soft skin there.

“Wasn’t supposed to be,” he murmurs, big hands squeezing the fat of your hips. “You kept hiding from me.”

You pout and push lightly at his chest, forcing him to take a step back.

“Awh,” he coos, pressing a thumb to the plush flesh of your lip before he’s leaning in for a kiss. No chaste pecks or soft, fleeting moments- he’s determined to get a real kiss from you, all tongues and teeth and heaving chests as he steals your breath.

The only sounds to be heard are the whistling of wind and the soft smack of your mouths as he kisses you with fervour. Your hand comes up to his neck, fisting the short hairs at the nape to pull him closer. You feel his smile against your mouth.

“This is all I wanted from you,” he snarks, sarcasm dripping from his tongue as you chase his lips to keep him quiet.

“Shh,” you whisper, eyes fluttering as he bites into your bottom lip and soothes the pain away with his tongue.

He pulls away heavy lidded and breathing hard.

“Caught you.”

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

more than I can resist

pairing: Seungcheol x fem!reader x Wonwoo

genre: smut, fluff, poly!au - minors dni.

warnings: threesome, anal sex, oral sex (f and m rec), fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, use of petnames (princess, sunshine, pretty boy), sub!reader, switch!wonwoo, switch!cheol, multiple orgasms, cum swallowing, unprotected sex (pls stay safe), manhandling, hair pulling, aftercare

word count: ~3.8k

summary: you love starting your day with your boyfriend and a freshly brewed cup of coffee. but your other boyfriend has a different idea of a perfect morning.

Disclaimer: Both Seungcheol and Wonwoo are depicted as bisexual in the fic, which is used only for the purposes of fanfiction and it is not an assumption of the members' sexual orientation in real life. If you're not comfortable with these themes, then this fic isn't for you.

Author's note: happy holidays beloveds, here's some woncheol filth - big thank you to @gyuwoncheol for betareading (and yelling at me hehe) and to @wooahaeproductions for helping me out with the title!

tagging @onlymingyus @smileysuh @horanghater @shuadotcom @wongyuseokie

©multi-kpop-fanfics, 2023. No reposting allowed. No translations without permission allowed.

Raindrops clatter on the window, a moody gray color engulfing the bedroom. You swear it makes you want to fall back asleep, but the warmth surrounding and the faint smell of coffee being brewed keep your eyes wide open.

You raise your torso from the bed and notice that your boyfriend is missing - now you know why the smell of coffee lingers in the air.

You push the comforter to the side before stepping on the carpeted floor, but a strong arm tugging at your wrist stops you - the wrist of your other boyfriend.

“Don’t leave yet, I wanna cuddle for a little longer.” Seungcheol pouts, voice still dipped in sleepiness.

“But Wonwoo is already up and making coffee. I don’t want to drink it cold, Cheollie.”

“But cuddles!” The blond man pouts again.

“Sorry, Cheollie, coffee is calling.” You smile softly and get up from the bed, wearing your fuzzy slippers to go to the kitchen.

Seungcheol plops down on the bed, puffing his lips in annoyance. It’s baffling how you’re willing to leave the warmth and coziness of his arms just for a cup of coffee with Wonwoo. Or maybe he’s being dramatic about it.

You, on the other hand, are absolutely delighted to be greeted with Wonwoo’s broad back, clad in a plain white t-shirt. You tiptoe your way behind him and wrap your arms around your waist to back hug him.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” He rubs the back of your hand lovingly.

“Good morning, Wonu.” You hum and pat his abdomen. “How did you sleep?”

“Pretty well. Although I wish I didn't have to spend most of the night away from you. Not to mention the amount of times Seungcheol tried to pull you away.” He comments with a small sigh.

“Oh come on, you know he’s clingy in his sleep.” 

“Y/N, clingy is Seungcheol’s middle name.” Wonwoo chuckles as he pours the dark brown liquid in the three matching cups.

“I think that’s one of the many reasons why you love him.” You tease him with a sing-song voice.

“I cannot refute that, I’m afraid.” He passes you the cup with the sun carvings on. “Enjoy the coffee, darling.”

“Thank you baby.” You take a sip and moan in satisfaction when the coffee hits your taste buds. “Perfect as always.”

“And the only thing I’m perfect at-”

“Bullshit!”

“In the kitchen, I mean.”

“Oh. Then yeah, you’re right.” You grin evilly and he swats your arm playfully.

“If you get to be a meanie first thing in the morning, then maybe I should cut down on your coffee privileges.” Wonwoo tilts his head sideways, a cat-like smirk on his face.

“Now who’s the meanie?” You put your coffee down on the counter and rest your fists on your waist.

“Honestly? He’s still sleeping in the bedroom.” Wonwoo deadpans and you snort, trying to suppress your laughter.

“You would have to bear with his pouting for the rest of the month if he heard you say that.”

“And he would get even more annoyed because I know when to not give attention to him.” He gives you a smug answer.

“Is it me or do you have a thing for arguing with Cheol?”

“I do. And frankly, I like him a bit better when he gets frustrated.” 

“Because he looks hot when he’s angry?”

“Exactly.” Wonwoo licks the corners of his lips. “Makes the ordeal a bit nastier, you know?”

“It’s always the quiet ones, I swear.” You roll your eyes and walk away from the kitchen.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“To the bathroom. I want to wash my face and do my morning routine. My eyes still feel a bit droopy.” You rub your face with your palms.

“Then stop rubbing your face, you idiot.” He laughs and you wave your hands in defeat, making your way to the bathroom.

Wonwoo is left alone in the kitchen once more and he goes back to enjoying his coffee, back turned against the rest of the living room.

He’s unaware of Seungcheol walking into the kitchen with his signature pout on, the latter feeling sulky from the lack of attention.

But as soon as he notices his boyfriend’s shoulders stretching out the fabric of his tee, the devil on Seungcheol’s shoulder is awakened and ready to take action.

The blond man presses his body on Wonwoo’s back and runs his hands over his sides, making the younger man shiver.

“Shit - you startled me, Cheol!” Wonwoo curses out loud, the half empty coffee cup nearly dropping from his hands.

“You’re one big scaredy cat, aren’t you.” Seungcheol giggles.

“Good morning to you too, I guess.”

“Where’s Y/N?”

“She’s in the bathroom to freshen up a bit.”

“So much for wanting to drink coffee with you.” 

“At least she escaped your clutches.” Wonwoo laughs.

“Gotta live up to my middle name, right?” Seungcheol presses himself a bit harder on Wonwoo, his morning wood trying to make its presence known.

“So you were awake this whole time, huh?” 

“Yeah, but the bed was too warm to not enjoy it.”

“But you got up either way. Can’t live without being the center of our attention, Cheollie?” Wonwoo teases him with the nickname, knowing how much it riles him up.

“You must be in a pretty good mood to be cracking shitty jokes now, Wonu.” Seungcheol’s hand descends towards Wonwoo’s crotch, rubbing him over his sweats. 

“And you must be really thirsty for attention to be pulling tricks like these.” He grips the older man’s wrist, low hiss echoing in the kitchen.

Seungcheol smirks at his reaction and doesn’t stop moving his hand up and down, biting his bottom lip when Wonwoo grips the counter a bit tighter.

“Losing your composure already? I thought you were stronger than that.”

“Shut up.”

“Ah ah, pretty boys like you shouldn’t say bad words.” 

A shiver runs down Wonwoo’s spine when he hears the pet name, hips bucking into Seungcheol’s hand.

“Seems like you’re the one who needs attention, Wonu.” The blond man chuckles in his ear.

“Oh my God, just stop talking and keep touching me, please.”

Seungcheol takes his hand away and turns Wonwoo around, pinning him to the counter. He might not be taller, but he’s definitely stronger and he will always find a way to use his strength to his advantage.

“Whoever did your hair last night deserves an award.”

"T-Thanks. Wish I was here with the two of you, not at some boring business dinner." 

"It's okay, Wonu. You've worked hard and it's reward time, pretty boy." 

Seungcheol drops down on his knees and unties the string of Wonwoo's sweats, pulling them down with his boxers. His cock springs free, already hard and leaking precum.

"Were you dining with your colleagues with such a boner? I almost feel sorry for you." He rubs his fingertip over the shaft and around the bulbous head.

Wonwoo turns his head away, cheeks flushed and biting the back of his hand to drown any noise that threatens to spill.

"Gosh, you're so hot when you're shy." Seungcheol breathes out and wraps his puffy lips around the tip, giving it light sucks before deepthroating Wonwoo's cock in one go.

If there’s one thing Seungcheol is good at, it’s oral sex - no matter who’s on the receiving end in your relationship, he will leave you with jelly legs.

“C-Cheol, slow down a little.” Wonwoo immediately puts his hands in his boyfriend’s hair, nearly fisting the blond strands. Seungcheol pulls away his lips with a loud, almost vulgar ‘pop’. He 

“I can go slow. But no promises on how long I’ll be able to keep it that way, pretty boy.” He chuckles before spitting on his fingers and moving them behind Wonwoo.

“Y-You don’t have to d-do this.” 

“One of us is gonna get fucked in the ass very soon and it won’t be me.” Seungcheol kisses the tip of Wonwoo’s cock and carefully slides one finger past his rim, 

“You almost sound d-disappointed.” The younger man shudders and clenches around the thick digit.

“Me? Not at all, pretty boy. But you must be disappointed, since you’re so obsessed with my ass.”

“Not my fault you’re so t-thick everywhere, fuck.”

“Aww, are you jealous, Wonu?” Seungcheol grins against Wonwoo’s cock, adding a second finger in his hole. “You shouldn’t be, though - Your body is really hot, in its own way.”

“T-Tell me more.” Wonwoo moans and grips the blond hair.

“Where should I even begin from? Your strong, broad shoulders? Your pretty collarbones?” Seungcheol showers him with compliments, his free hand coursing over Wonwoo’s body, reaching to his waist and gripping it tight. “Or your slutty little waist?” 

Wonwoo loses his patience and thrusts his cock in the older man’s mouth, both hands glued on his head to keep it in place and fuck it relentlessly. His round glasses are already fogged up and sliding down the bridge of his nose. The two fingers haven’t stopped toying with his hole, his sensitivity skyrocketing.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum, God, I’m so close!” Wonwoo throws his head back, mouth wide open and tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

Seungcheol hums affirmatively and hollows his cheeks around the shaft, the tip being pushed all the way down his throat. Wonwoo’s orgasm is strong enough to make him lose his balance, but the strong arm around his waist holds him up. The man on his knees swallows every single drop of semen, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down rhythmically. A few seconds later, he detaches his mouth and fingers, breathing heavily. His half-lidded eyes staring at Wonwoo with heavy lust.

“Ahem.”

Your voice interrupts the two men and Wonwoo tries to pull up his sweats hastily.

“Don’t bother. You won’t need them anyways.” You shake your head in dismissal.

“Hey princess.” Seungcheol gets up and licks his fingers clean with a smug smile on his face.

“You seem awfully awake for someone who wanted cuddles just a few minutes ago.” You cross your arms in front of your chest.

“And you seem awfully jittery, princess. What’s wrong, hm?”

“Cheol, stop teasing her.” Wonwoo huffs.

“It’s okay, Wonu. I was heading to the bedroom anyway.” You shrug and leave the kitchen, making a turn for the bedroom. The two men peek their heads and see you throw your (Wonwoo’s) t-shirt right on the doorstep and Wonwoo pushes Seungcheol out of the way, running back to the bedroom, the older man’s laugh echoing behind him.

A grin creeps on your lips when Wonwoo’s arms wrap around your midriff and his lips attach themselves to the juncture between your shoulder and your neck.

“You seem to be pretty riled up.” You murmur and push your ass on his crotch.

“Cheol’s fault.” He murmurs back and turns you around, pushing you softly on the bed to climb on top of you. “But you’re not innocent either, sunshine.”

“I know. That’s why we’re here now, right?” You toy with the hem of his shirt.

“Yeah. And I cannot wait to fuck you, sunshine.” He grazes his teeth over your pulse point, hands groping your underwear - clad body.

“Not so fast, pretty boy.” Seungcheol leans against the door frame. “I call the shots here.”

“Can you not ruin the moment for once? I missed her last night and I wanna have my time with her.” 

“You will.” H He walks behind Wonwoo and threads his hand in his hair, pulling it back harshly as he presses his lips on the shell of his ear. “As long as you do as I say, that is.”

“Cheol-” You open your mouth to speak. 

“Princess. Behave.” He looks at you with a raised eyebrow and you pipe down, waiting for his orders. Seungcheol hums in approval and lets go of Wonwoo’s hair, who lets out a loud hiss.

“Lay on your back, pretty boy. Need you to put that mouth of yours into good use.” He orders while undressing himself till complete nakedness.

“And why should I do that?” Wonwoo scoffs in an attempt to challenge Seungcheol.

“You said you wanted to have your time with Y/N, didn’t you? You’re gonna let her sit on your face and she’s gonna use her pretty mouth for something else.”

“Damn it.” The younger man curses and strips down as well, following Seungcheol’s orders. He lies down on the bed and Seungcheol pats your thigh for you to get naked and climb over Wonwoo’s face.

“Hey sunshine.”

“Hey Wonu.” You giggle while peering your eyes down to him, his lips peppering kisses on your inner thighs.

“Eyes on me, princess.” Your other boyfriend yanks your hair back, forcing your gaze on him. “Hands down on the mattress.” 

You do as he says and you’re now on the same level as Seungcheol’s cock, the thick shaft mere centimeters away from you. You open your mouth to stretch your tongue and lick the tip, but Wonwoo wraps his arms around your thighs and pulls you down on his face to eat you out. You cry out when his tongue slides across your slit, flattening it over your clit and turning it pointy when it reaches your entrance. 

“What’s wrong, princess? Does the pretty boy’s mouth feel good?” Seungcheol caresses your cheek and you nod affirmatively.

“Can’t have you all fucked out already.” He taps his cock on your cheek and you desperately chase his shaft with your mouth. He puts you out of your misery by sliding his cock down your throat, making you gag with his size. You're glad you've trained yourself (with the help of your boyfriends) to suppress your gag reflex when one of them is fucking your mouth. 

You let Seungcheol take control of your head and use it like a fucktoy to satisfy the raging erection, all while Wonwoo eats your pussy like it's the last meal he will ever enjoy on this futile planet. His hands roam your body, fingertips gliding over your hips, waist and gripping your breasts.

Your eyes flutter dangerously, hands fisting the sheets underneath you, as you let yourself enjoy what you're being provided by the loves of your life.

"Mmm, always so good at sucking dick, princess.” Seungcheol juts his hips in your mouth, loving the weight of his cock on your tongue.

You want to bob your head on your own on his cock, but the hand in your hair stops you from doing so. Instead, you ride out your frustrations on Wonwoo’s face, who doesn’t seem to mind you using him for your own pleasure.

“Pretty boy is doing a good job, isn’t he, princess?” Seungcheol slides out his cock and taps it over your cheeks, leaving wet trails of spit on your face.

“His mouth is so fucking good, Daddy.” You moan in response.

“Is that so? Is he taking care of your needy pussy?”

“Yes, he’s so good!” You dig your nails in the bed.

“He can be even better with his dick, princess. Hop off.” 

You whine in protest, but one raised brow from the blond man is enough to make you follow his orders, your other boyfriend grunting in annoyance.

“Lay on your back, princess. And pull your legs up to your chest.”

“Do you ever want to just go with the flow?” Wonwoo sits up and throws a nasty glare towards Seungcheol, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“No.” The older man says curtly and grabs Wonwoo by the arms, turning him around to face you and he pushes him on top of you.

“Fuck! Sorry, sunshine.” Wonwoo puts his hands on each side of your head to not crush you with his weight. “I guess someone is impatient.”

“Yeah, I am.” Seungcheol slaps his ass and kneads the flesh with his hands. “But I’m sure our dear princess is impatient as well and she would love to be stuffed full with your cock. Isn’t that right, princess?”

You nod fervently and you buck your hips directly on Wonwoo’s crotch and he moans, gripping his shaft with one hand to guide it to your entrance. A blissful sigh escapes his lips when he slides inside your pussy, enjoying your tight warmth.

“Good, stay still, pretty boy.” Seungcheol bites his bottom lip as he reaches for the lube in the drawer of the nightstand and he opens the cap to spritz a generous amount over his fingers. He carefully spreads it over his boyfriend’s ass, sliding two fingers to check whether he’s loose enough to take something bigger.

Wonwoo shudders on top of you and slowly moves his hips to start fucking you, but Seungcheol grips his waist to stabilise him.

“I said. Stay still.” He aligns the tip of his cock with the hole and pushes in with careful motions, until he’s completely sheathed in. 

“Fuck, oh fuck.” Wonwoo digs his nails in the mattress, trying his best to accommodate the stretch.

“Wonu, are you okay?” You pet the back of his hair.

“Y-Yeah, more than okay.” 

A fluid thrust from behind makes him groan again and jerks his entire body forward, resulting in a strong thrust in your cunt. You let out a gasp in response and your eyes notice the mischievous glint in Seungcheol’s eyes. He sends you a wink before he starts rutting his hips faster.

The force he exerts in fucking Wonwoo results in you getting fucked with the same pace. Both you and Wonwoo let out obscene noises in unison, your hands flying to his back.

“Your cock feels so damn good, Wonu.” You dig your nails in his back.

“God, I can’t even f-focus on what feels better right now.” He moans back and ducks his head in the crook of your neck.

“Stop being shy, pretty boy.” Seungcheol pulls Wonwoo’s hair and lifts his head to let you take a better look of his expression.

You clench around Wonwoo’s cock when your eyes fall on his flushed face and messed up hair, sweat beads forming on his forehead and eyebrows.

“How does he look, princess?”

“Fucking beautiful, Cheollie.” You whine and Wonwoo bucks his hips harder in you, pushing your body closer to the foot of the bed. 

“Pretty boy loves being praised.” Seungcheol’s thrusts take a rougher turn and snaps his pelvis almost mercilessly.

“Yes, yes I do, fuck. Harder!” The younger man begs in an embarrassing way.

“God, you sound so pretty when you beg.” You whisper loud enough to be heard in the room and smash your lips on his, your hands now moving to cup his jaw. Your tongue mingles with Wonwoo’s, sucking it passionately until you feel him whine in your mouth repeatedly. A sudden wave of sticky warmth floods your walls and you realize that your boyfriend just came inside you without a warning. 

“Mffh- ah, fuck, I’m sorry, sunshine…” He pants heavily, cock still twitching inside you as he grinds slowly. 

“Don’t worry, Wonu.” You stroke his cheek while he desperately tries to make you cum. “Can you please make me cum?”

“Shit, anything for you, sunshine.” He slides his hand between your bodies to search for your clit and rub it in rapid circles.

“How did I get so damn lucky with the two of you?” Seungcheol peers down on you as he pets Wonwoo’s hair a bit softer this time, the contrast between his hand and his hips staying sharp.

“C-Cheol, p-please.” 

“Hang in there, pretty boy, almost there.”

Seungcheol’s hand glides over Wonwoo’s spine until it grips on the other side of his waist and keeps him steady to deliver a few more thrusts. He throws his head back in bliss as the climax hits him, his heavy cock unloading globs of cum inside.

“Fucking perfect ass, so damn tight.”

Wonwoo’s head dips in your neck again as he lets out a loud sob and cums inside you again, but his hand doesn’t falter on your clit and you scream when your own orgasm crashes on you, hands struggling to find something sturdy to hold onto.

Your body decides to fall limp on the bed with Wonwoo right on top of you, who is still breathing heavily due to his consecutive orgasms.

Seungcheol slowly retracts his cock and lays on top of the two of you, catching his own breath.

“I can’t fucking move.” Wonwoo grunts.

“Me neither.” You agree in a split second.

“Did so well for me, darlings.” Seungcheol pats your thigh while pressing a kiss on Wonwoo’s shoulder.

“Thank you Cheollie. Could you two please get off me now? You’re literally crushing me.” You complain to your boyfriends.

“Sorry, princess.” He laughs and sits back on the bed, allowing Wonwoo to roll on his back.

“Thank you. Can someone carry me to the bathroom now? My legs are ruined.” 

“Abusing your princess rights, aren’t you?” The older man quirks his brow.

“Are you gonna refuse?”

“Never.” He picks you up in bridal style and carries you towards the bathroom, your giggles echoing in the corridor.

About ten minutes later, you’re happily soaking in the tub, filled with warm water and a lavender scented bath bomb, all while Seungcheol walks back to the bedroom to check up on Wonwoo.

“Do you need help?”

“Nah, I’ll be okay. Just…give me a few minutes.”

“Fucked you real good, huh?”

“Not as bad as the sheets, but I digress.”

“The sheets aren’t as tight as you or Y/N, but I digress.” The blond man smirks.

“I swear to God, I’ll get back at you for this.” Wonwoo groans, trying to stretch out his legs so he’ll be able to walk all the way to the bathroom.

“Hm, really? And how are you going to do it, huh? By trying to tie me up?” Seungcheol taunts him with a cocked eyebrow.

“That’s not a bad idea actually, given how squirmy you get when your ass gets pounded from behind.” Wonwoo licks his bottom lip.

“Are you that obsessed with my ass, Wonu?”

“More like obsessed with the mental image of railing you like a bitch in heat.” 

Seungcheol lets out a dirty laugh, shaking his head as he heads out of the room. 

“I’d like to see you try, pretty boy. That ass can handle more than you can think of.” He punctuates his words by landing a slap on his ass and sending a wink to his boyfriend.

Wonwoo plops back on the bed and looks up at the ceiling, a grin plastered on his face.

He can’t wait for that day to come.

[dadbodbuck]

i had a bad day and then @tommystummy started talking about bucktommy arguments and this scenario came up and i latched onto it like a moray eel. please enjoy some raw, unedited tommy kinard angst

Tommy doesn't like talking about it. It being the roughly five years he worked under Captain Gerrard, alongside Howie and Hen, when he was deeply closeted and a major asshole. He can make his excuses, he can try to convey the feeling of looking into someone's eyes and only seeing your father's. He can admit to the humiliating nightmares he used to have of his father storming into the fire station and screaming at him. Neither of those are reason enough to be callous towards people who were being tortured in their own workplace.

Howie and Hen were much quicker to forgive him than Tommy was. In fact, it seemed like it only took one mumbled apology for them to shrug it all off. Water under the bridge, they had said. Just don't do it again.

And God, Tommy never did. After that, after finally taking his sexuality out of the box deep in the animal part of his brain, he told himself he would be different. He expected it to be hard, and on some level it was, but—

Tommy kissed a man for the first time (since high school) forty-eight hours after he was reassigned to the 217, quick and dirty in a bar in West Hollywood. Something in Tommy’s chest clicked into place when he heard the soft, deep moan of a nameless man wearing body glitter. He couldn’t go back even if he wanted to.

Before, he’d been afraid of this exact thing. He’d kept his hands to himself because he knew that his closet wasn’t resealable. It was one-and-done. Gerrard’s boys would have eaten him alive. But Howie and Hen wouldn’t. They didn’t.

It still took him a long time for him to tell them. They didn’t talk often, but they did keep in touch. Tommy owed them so many favors he’d probably be repaying them for the rest of his life, but they seemed more interested in just being his friend. A distant one, but a friend nonetheless.

Distance was fine. Distance was easy. Distance allowed for Tommy to keep his comfortable walls in place, even if he redecorated them a little.

It took him three months to realize how debilitating loneliness was. He was out, now, but without the close, albeit sterile and toxic, friendship of the boy’s club at the 118. Tommy longed for connection. He thrived on it. Something deep, and routine, and constant.

But nobody was volunteering. So Tommy resigned himself to his old hobbies, cars and Muay Thai and basketball, and introduced karaoke trivia to the routine, because he’d always loved singing but never had the guts to do it while he was closeted. It was nice. If anyone noticed Tommy’s near-compulsive schedule of activities, they never mentioned it. The years passed. Howie and Hen grew even more distant. Tommy liked their Facebook posts. He did their favors. He was still lonely, but he successfully put the version of himself he had been on a shelf in the deepest recesses of his brain, never to see the light of day again.

He was a good person now. He was good. He was good despite the skeletons rattling in the closet where his love used to be.

Then, Evan.

No other preamble necessary. Then, Evan. With his broad chest and blue eyes and insane, insane ideas.

Really, was Tommy not supposed to fall in love with him?

Things are great for a while. Idyllic. Peaceful, and exciting, and sweet, and so goddamn sexy, and safe. Tommy feels safe in Evan’s arms.

The problem, of course, is that Evan has this idea that he has to know every part of Tommy. All of him.

“I want to love all of you,” Evan murmurs, as a creeping sense of dread settles in Tommy’s chest, “Even the parts you don’t like.”

Tommy chews on his words, but Evan must sense something is wrong, because he props himself up on an elbow and leans over Tommy, brow scrunched in concern.

“There are parts of me that aren’t worth loving.” Tommy settles on, eventually.

He watches Evan’s heart break in real time, and it does nothing to soothe the growing irritation in his chest.

“I don’t believe that,” Evan frowns, “I think even when you were making mistakes, you were worth loving.”

Tommy huffs a dry, sarcastic laugh. “I beg to differ.”

He doesn’t elaborate. Can’t. Evan doesn’t like this. “Tom, that’s—that’s not how this works. You don’t get to pick and choose which parts of you I’m allowed to love. I don’t care what it is. I love you.”

Tommy isn’t going to win this argument, so he doesn’t even try. Instead, he forces himself to relax, and sighs. “Okay. Sorry, honey.”

He can tell Evan isn’t buying it, by the disbelieving set to his mouth, but he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he lays back down and presses a gentle kiss to Tommy’s shoulder. It feels a lot like another declaration.

“I love you too,” Tommy says, bringing one of Evan’s hands up to his mouth to kiss his knuckles. Evan revels in physical touch—it’s one of his favorite love languages, although he enjoys pretty much all of them. Mostly, Tommy thinks Evan was just love-starved for a long time.

Tommy is positive beyond doubt that Evan was never like him. It takes little talking to Howie and Maddie to confirm that he’s always presented his heart on a platter, warm and bleeding for whoever wants to carry it. There’s no universe where a callous man like Gerrard would have turned Evan into what Tommy was. Evan has never been a coward.

Tommy hopes that’ll be the end of the argument, but the next day, Evan sits down on the couch and says, “I know talking about your past is painful for you, and I don’t want to force you to tell me anything.”

Tommy senses a conjunction and chooses to remain silent.

“But,” there it is, “I don’t take back what I said.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you again,” Tommy grunts, knowing he’s closing himself off.

“Then let me say it,” Evan presses, “There is nothing in your past that would change how I feel about you.”

“You don’t know that,” Tommy says, through gritted teeth, “You don’t know what I was like to Howie and Hen when they first joined the 118. I said things I shouldn’t have. I let Gerrard and his cronies get away with even worse. I let them get hurt, and I did nothing, because I was a coward.”

Evan looks at him with big, sad eyes. “You were scared.”

“I should have done the right thing anyway,” Tommy argues, “You think Howie and Hen weren’t scared? You think they weren’t terrified? Hen got up in front of everyone and gave us this big speech about how proud she was to be gay, to be black, to be herself. And all I did was stand there with this pit in my stomach. Like if anyone looked over at me they would just know, and then I’d be a pariah. Like her.”

“Tommy,” Evan says, dismayed, “She’s forgiven you so many times over for that. Beating yourself up about it does nothing.”

“It holds me accountable,” Tommy says, “It keeps me from being that person again. I hate the person I was back then. You would have hated him, too.”

“Maybe,” Evan shrugs, like it’s just that easy, “But I try not to hate people. I certainly don’t hate my loved ones for making mistakes. And that’s what you did. Make a mistake. Now, looking back on it, I can see that version of you. That Tommy, who was afraid and in pain. I still love him.”

“Stop!” Tommy snaps, but makes no move to get away from Evan. Evan’s hand stutters, but makes its way to Tommy’s shoulder, thumb rubbing over the joint.

“I love every version of all of my loved ones,” Evan says softly, “I love the version of Bobby who almost drank himself to death. I love the version of Eddie that fought people in the street. I love the version of Chim that punched me. I love the version of Maddie that ran away from me—several times, I might add. I love the version of Hen that almost ended her own marriage when she betrayed Karen’s trust.”

There’s about thirty different stories Tommy wants to explore in there, but Evan doesn’t let him get a word in edgewise. “And I love the version of you that stood by and watched because he was too scared to intervene.”

Evan leans in to plant a tender kiss to Tommy’s cheek. “I love him, and I love the Tommy who was in Iraq, and I love the Tommy who was almost a high school dropout, and I love the Tommy who loved to go hiking after middle school, and I love the Tommy who was late learning how to walk but early learning how to read. It’s not hard. He’s you.”

“I don’t want him to be me,” Tommy confesses, throat tight.

“But he is,” Evan murmurs, soft and soothing in Tommy’s ear, “He’s right here. And he’s doing right by people now. He learned how to be brave. He made amends. Hen and Chim didn’t forgive you because you killed that old version of yourself, they forgave you because you made an effort.”

It’s the first time Tommy’s ever heard it phrased like this, and something about the way Evan says it makes his eyes sting. Evan pulls him into a hug, tucks his face into the crook of his neck, and lets Tommy cry. Rubs his back through it. If Tommy pretends, he could be rubbing the uniform-clad thirty-five year-old firefighter, or the fatigued back of an eighteen-year-old soldier, or the thrifted cotton tee of a middle schooler, or the just-too-tight romper of a toddler. All the Tommies that never got this, all the Tommies that desperately wanted it.

For the first time since his mother died, Tommy is held while he cries, and after nearly thirty years, something in his chest stops aching.

[hqbaby]

one — the aftermath

mess it up — gojo x reader & sukuna x reader

⁀➴ when i told you i’m fine, you were lied to. when the love of your life falls for someone else, you decide to move on—by pretending to date your best friend, the campus fuckboy.

masterlist — next

word count. 1.9k content. profanity, talks of sex

Breakups suck, there’s no denying that. Especially when the breakup in question is with someone you thought was the love of your life. Someone you thought felt the same way about you.

When the breakup turns into some big revelation that you are in fact a fool for even believing in love in the first place—well, it’s safe to say that it doesn’t feel good.

But you know what makes a breakup even worse? Hearing that the person you broke up with has started dating someone new. Two weeks after your split.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Nobara declares as she stabs a slice of meat with her fork and shoves it in her mouth. Through a mouthful of food, she tells you, “I know friends aren’t supposed to say that kind of shit immediately after a breakup, but it’s true! He sucked!”

“He did not suck,” you tell her, and you know this is true. You remember just six months ago, Nobara was singing his praises, so glad that you were finally being “treated like the princess you are,” so you don’t really believe her sudden shift in perspective. “It just didn’t work out. It’s no big deal.”

Maki frowns at you, pointing her fork in your direction as she speaks. “Any guy who starts dating someone new two weeks after a breakup doesn’t deserve to be respected,” she says. “Slander him, babe. He deserves it.”

You can’t help but laugh as your two friends agree with one another, pointing out all the little things about your ex that they found “slightly off,” and how you’re so strong, how you’ll get through this like it’s nothing. You’re sure that when you met them in freshman year, you didn’t expect your friendship to turn into this, but you’re glad it has.

“So who’s the girl?” you ask as the conversation lulls.

“I don’t know,” they both answer in unison.

You roll your eyes. “You’re terrible liars.”

They look at each other for a moment. Nobara raises a brow, Maki shakes her head. Maki raises a brow, Nobara shrugs. They both sigh.

“It’s Kimi,” Maki tells you.

“The cheerleader?”

“Yeah.”

You prod a stray grain of rice on your plate then nod. “Okay,” you say. “Figured he’d go for someone like her.”

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Nobara says again.

You chuckle. “So I’ve heard.”

“Does it bother you?” Maki asks. Her tone is careful. She’s probably worried you’ll burst into tears or throw a fit.

“No,” you tell her simply. “It’s fine. He can do whatever he wants.”

You notice how they seem to breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe they’ve finally convinced themselves that you’re fine. You’re okay.

The three of you finish with your lunch and clear up the table. It’s become tradition for the two of them to show up at your apartment on Saturdays to eat together, mainly because you actually have a table to eat at. You also often have more than enough food to spare, what with your mother constantly sending care packages and your neighbor being an old woman who likes cooking enough food for an army.

It’s nice, these days you get to spend with your friends, and you’ve found that it’s been a real comfort these last two weeks. You’d never admit it out loud, but the breakup has been hard on you. More than it probably should be. Aside from the fact that you find yourself alone more often now, you’re also constantly reminded of his absence. And, boy, is it a terrifying thing to remember.

“Are you heading to training?” Maki asks, drying her hands on a towel. “I can drop you off if you don’t wanna drive.”

You shake your head. “It’s fine,” you tell her. “Someone’s picking me up.”

“One of the girls?”

“Nah,” you say. “Sukuna.”

Nobara snorts as she places the last dish on the drying rack. “You sure his driver’s license isn’t suspended?”

You whack her shoulder with the dish towel in your hands. She yelps exaggeratedly and you laugh, apologizing as you rub her arm. “He’s really a good guy though,” you say. “You’re just way too hard on him.”

“Uh-huh,” Maki says, unconvinced as she crosses her arms and leans against the counter. “So the fact that he’s fucked half of the girls on campus is just a thing he does on the side.”

“Since when were you such a prude?” you ask, lips curling into a knowing smirk. “Just last week, you were all ‘everyone deserves the right to fuck.’”

Maki wags her finger at you. “This isn’t about being a prude,” she tells you. “The guy uses girls for his own pleasure. I just don’t see how you can be friends with him.”

“Well, I’ve known ‘the guy’ since high school. He really isn’t that bad,” you say. “And he only ever fucks people who want to be fucked, so I don’t see what the problem is.”

You’ve got a point there, Maki realizes, so she bounces on her toes and says, “Okay.” Then, “I’m still judging him though, but out of respect for you, I will do so in secret.”

You nudge her with your shoulder and chuckle. “I hear you though,” you tell her. “But trust me. He’s not a bad guy.”

“Where’s my kiss?”

“I will rip your balls off.”

Sukuna smirks at you as you hop into the passenger seat. His car is a mess, like it usually is, with old, disintegrating Slurpee cups and Monster cans littering the dashboard, receipts scattered on the floor, and what you suspect is a midterm with a big red C- stuffed into the open glove compartment.

You pick a half-empty bag of popcorn from your seat before sitting down. “This thing is gross, ‘Kuna,” you tell him, grimacing. “You should really get rid of all your trash at least.”

He sticks his tongue out at you and puts the car in gear. “What was that?” he says as he backs out of the parking slot. “‘Thank you for driving me, Kuna! I owe you a big favor!’ Oh, yeah, definitely, tiger.”

“You owe me,”  you point out, pulling your seatbelt on. “Need I remind you how many times I’ve had to drive you home from a party because you were wasted? Do I need to show you the pictures to jog your memory?”

“You are so mean,” he tells you. “How are you gonna get a husband with a mouth like that?”

You scoff. “Please,” you say. “My mouth is exactly why they’d marry me in the first place.”

Sukuna gags, pretending to vomit into his mouth. “Aren’t girls supposed to be all shy and quiet about that sort of thing?” he says. Then, his eyes light up in faux realization. “Oh, right! You’re not a girl. You’re some sort of monster that ate the real you.”

You reach over and flick his forehead before slumping back in your seat. When the car stops at a red light, his face charges towards yours, attempting to lick your cheek. You manage to push him away with the palm of your hand before he does.

“Eyes on the road, fuckhead,” you tell him, giggling as his face twists in disappointment. “You got plans later?”

“Yeah,” he says, smirking. “A blonde and a brunette. You know. The usual.”

You make a face. “You’re such a pig, you know that, right?”

“I prefer to think of myself as a connoisseur of sexual deviancy.”

“I feel so bad for the girls who fall for that.”

He beams. “Oh, I wouldn’t be. They like it just as much as I do.”

You shake your head in amusement and fold your arms over your chest, leaning your head against the window. You’re a few minutes away from the gym, the car already passing through the familiar grounds of the campus.

You pass by the steps of the science building. The place where it happened.

“We broke up,” you find yourself telling Sukuna quietly. “Two weeks ago.”

He’s silent for a moment. You can already tell he’s contemplating either listening to you and letting you vent or, well, murder.

“I figured,” he says eventually.

You peel your head away from the window and raise a brow at him. “How?”

He glances at you, as if to check that you’re okay. When he’s sure that you’re not upset or anything, he nods and says, “For one, you’re hanging out with me. If I remember correctly, Mr. Perfect doesn’t exactly like me.”

You scrunch your nose up. “That’s not true,” you tell him. And when he gives you a look like, Riiiiiight, you relent and say, “Fine. But that never stopped me from spending time with you.”

“Sure it did.”

You furrow your brows. “Don’t tell me you were jealous.”

“Sure I was.” He grins at you. “But enough about my feelings—because, ew, gross, feelings, yuck. What happened? Why’d you break up?”

You open your mouth to explain, but you realize you don’t exactly have the words to talk about it just yet. Whenever Maki and Nobara asked, you just gave them some vague reason and they knew not to press. If you said the same thing to Sukuna, you know he’d call you on your bullshit, and you don’t think you’re ready to confront “the truth” just yet.

He probably notices your hesitation, so he says, “You don’t have to tell me. I’m just curious.”

You smile at him. “Thanks.”

“‘Course, tiger,” he says. The car pulls up in front of the gym and he turns to look at you. As much as you two tease each other, you know that you can always count on each other when things aren’t exactly good. “I do have one question though that you’re required to answer.”

“What?”

“If I see him, do I punch him or run him over with my car?”

You groan and swat his arm. “Don’t you dare do anything,” you say, reaching over to grab your tennis bag from the backseat. “I mean it, ‘Kuna.”

“Hey, no one breaks up with my best friend and gets away with it,” he says. “So what will it be? Vehicular manslaughter or straight up murder?”

You frown at him. He matches your frown. You smile. “You know, a grown man probably shouldn’t be calling anyone his best friend,” you say, opening the car door. You get out and lean your head in through the window. “Thanks for driving me.”

He waves it off. “You can thank me by buying me dinner,” he tells you. “Text me when you’re done with training. I’ll pick you up.”

“I thought you had plans tonight,” you say, tilting your head to the side as you step away from the car.

“Text me when you’re done,” he repeats, and he drives away before you can say another word.

You watch as his car turns a corner and disappears. He might not be a bad guy, but he sure is strange.

Sliding your tennis bag over your shoulders, you start your trek to the court. You haven’t been to training in a while, only dragged here by your coach reminding you of your scholarship. You’re a little nervous to be back, but it’s really—

And that’s when you see him.

There, standing outside the doors to the gym, just as you remember him.

Satoru, the love of your life, kissing another girl.

Maybe you really aren’t fine at all.

notes. trying to contain my excitement for this series but it's not working!!!!! hope you guys enjoy it as much as i do <3

[readychilledwine]

Pieces of You pt 4

Summary - After losing Feyre to childbirth, Rhysand finds himself leaning on one of her friends much more than he'd ever expected.

Warnings- Mourning, loss of a partner, loss of a friend, loss of parent, babies and the complications that come with raising them, slight neglect, slight angst to wrap it up before Fluff and smut begin, same editing warning (friend is arc reading, Liz will catch any other mistakes when she rereads this with fresh eyes)

A/n - I promised they wouldn't be a part long. What you're all waiting for will happen in the next part. 🫣

✨️ Series Masterlist ✨️ Rhysand Masterlist ✨️ Master Masterlist ✨️

This nanny was not you.

You had the left house, as promised, Monday morning. You hadn't taken a single dress Rhys had bought his Little Mor, a single one of her toys, you didn't even take the blanket he had paid for with her name stitched into soft buttery fabric.

He watched as Nyx fought the female he had hired. He would only latch to her for a few moments before wailing, piercing the now all too quiet home with his confusion and frustration. This nanny was not you, and Nyx clearly was not going to accept her.

He had hoped by the afternoon Nyx would have been hungry enough to just latch, to cave, but that was not the case. The young heir was crying again, frustrated and hungry as he slowly wore himself out into another unscheduled nap. Rhysand zoned out the noise, his mind now on you, on the second chance of love, devotion, happiness he allowed to walk out the door.

Nyx had taken to you. He was a momma’s boy the second he was about to show preference. But Morwenna, Morwenna was Rhysand's. His own breathing filled the void of silence that had fall over the house, and as he stared at his paperwork, tears began to fall, he just hoped your mind was on him, or at least Nyx, as well.

His mind went to his Little Mor, his sweet girl. Her eyes always lit up for him, shrieks of joy and excitement were common in Rhysand's office.

You sighed and sunk into the couch, Azriel beside you as you did. “Come home,” he had been begging for the past two hours for you to see reason, to forgive Rhysand. He had explained what happened at dinner, watching as you slowly fell apart all over again. “He didn't mean a single word. I can tell.”

Azriel swallowed before standing, “I will be back. Kiss my niece for me when she wakes up. I'll come back to sing her to sleep tonight.”

You shook your head, leaning back into the couch as you did. “It felt like he did, Azriel. It felt like he just-” you stopped yourself from crying, not willing to hurt over some male who so easily threw you away. “He said I needed to stop acting like Nyx's mom.” You watched Azriel's face fall. Watched as his sun-kissed tan skin paled. “Then tried to tell me I could not take Morwenna with me.”

Screaming. Screaming was all Azriel heard as he walked into the new Riverhouse. Rhys was pacing the floor, bouncing Nyx as the sun fell and Cassian stood there, eyes watering and wide in panic. He took a spot next to Cassian, sharing a look of concern with his brother. “He refuses to latch on to his nanny,” Cassian's voice cracked. “And Madja keeps trying to tell Rhysand it's just going to be an adjustment period, but Nyx is hungry.”

Azriel nodded, mind flashing back to the subtle looks of pain on your face as you so much as moved or held his Little Mor. “And he won't just suck up his pride and take him to y/n?”

Cassian sighed. “He said he can't do that after what he has done. That there is no fixing the hurt he caused.” Anger had leaked into Cassian's soft voice. “I do not get how she can do this to Nyx.”

“You would do it to if you mate ignored your bond.” The weight of those words hit Cassian's chest, screaming in his like an alarm. “What.”

“Y/n and Rhysand are mates,” Azriel went to Rhys, stroking Nyx's back. “Let me take him to her?”

Rhys shook his head, ignoring the tears falling at his son's frustration. “I just need him to adjust.”

“Starving is not adjusting, Rhysand. It is neglect.” The High Lord turned to Azriel, glaring hard. “I know what you said to her. Go there, apologize, and have her feed him at the very least. She loves him.”

As if it was a spell place to curse Rhysand, Nyx must have caught the faint scent of you lingering to Azriel's soft t shirt. The heir calmed significantly, reaching for the material. “Give me your shirt so I can lay him down and we can discuss this.”

Azriel obeyed, hoping just the scent of you would be enough to give him a small nap while Azriel convinced Rhysand to let him take Nyx to you. Just for the night.

Rhysand sighed, laying Nyx down with Azriel's shirt underneath him. He would have been lying if anyone asked him if he had savored that soft scent clinging to the shirt. He walked out of the room and hardly made it 5 steps before the wailing began again. Rhys pulled the bottle filled with the mixture Madja had made from his pocket world before going back in.

Nyx was inconsolable. He had spent the better portion of the morning crying, screaming, refusing to sleep.

Rhysand picked him up, praying to anyone who would listen and wishing on every star that Nyx would just take this bottle. As soon as he latched, Rhysand watched his flawless little face make a deeper scowl before pushing the bottle away. You were Nyx's sole thought. Your smell, your skin under his, your voice. The piercing wail had Azriel and Cassian running up the stairs as soon as they heard.

Rhysand knew Nyx didn't fully understand the noise about to come from his mouth. Nyx didn't know it expressed exactly what he wanted, nor what the sound would mean. He didn't know that it would make his father crawl back to you less than 12 hours after you had left. The heir released a strangled cry over and over again of one of the only sounds he knew to make, "Ma. Ma. Ma!”

"No," Rhysand choked down the tears that were getting ready to fall. "He's crying for y/n. He's crying for his mama.” Rhys didn't wait for them, he didn't even say goodbye, he winnowed into your living room. You were curled up on the couch, instantly awake by the sounds of Nyx's crying.

"Is he crying for Feyre?" Cassian went to take a tentative step forward, just for Rhysand to stand and move quickly out of the room.

Rhysand didn't even have to ask. He didn't have to beg. You took the heir instantly and pulled him to you, placing him in his favorite spot to eat.

His tears had triggered Morwenna, though, and soon her soft cries filled the air. Rhysand ran to her. He ran to his daughter and cradled her tight to his chest. Her bright eyes instantly looked up at him, a smile taking place of where a deep frown was. “Hi baby girl,” her giggle instantly changed his mood. He walked her to the living room, watching as she instantly because to smile and shriek at the sight of Nyx.

“Give him a little bit, baby,” you didn't even look up from the tiny illyrian, stroking his brow as he ate. “He is very hungry and mama needs him to eat.” Rhys sat across from you, holding Little Mor tight to him. “She's been making d noises all day. To me, to Azriel, to no one. Just “dah duh deh” all day.”

“She missed her daddy,” Rhys held her up, rocking her gently side to side, “didn't you Morwenna. You missed daddy? 13 hours apart is much too long, isn't it, my little darling.” You shook your head, fighting the smile as Wen giggled at Rhysand.

You felt your heart skip a best as he kissed her cheeks and then her tummy. Rhysand was a wonderful father, and watching him in this element, this area of self-doubt, he had made all feelings of anger melt away. He looked to you instantly, claws gently tapping on the fortress of your mind before you allowed him in. “Let me take us home?” Home, the word replayed in your mind before you nodded, holding a hand to him. Home sounded so good.

He winnowed you two back to the Riverhouse, making Wen giggle even more at the starlight that surrounded you four. You walked in and stopped dead in your tracks, eyes Azriel up and down. “Where are your clothes?”

Azriel looked shameless, muscled torso on display as he held Cassian in a headlock. “I'm choking out Cassian and your concern is my lack of a shirt?”

Cassian raised a hand to you, face slightly red. His eyes had a hint of guilt in them as he tapped Azriel's abs. “Y/n,” Cassian moved to guide you to the couch, smiling at a still latched Nyx and then moved Rhysand to be next you. “I want to apologize.” You knit your brows at him as he sat and Azriel glared.

“I made some unfair statements without consideration for you and Rhysand. I did not think about how my words would affect your relationship with each other, or how I cheapend the new mating bond you two share.”

Cassian looked raw. Like months of build up and emotion hit him. “We prepared you know? We knew she was going to die, we begged and prayed for a solution, and just when hope came it crashed like a tidal wave. Nesta and I won't even touch each other. The guilt-”

“You have nothing to be guilty for, Cass,” Rhys interrupted him. “I'm the one who had sex with her. I'm the one who-”

“It was an accident,” you spoke softly, pulling the focus to you. “Feyre's death was a tragic mistake and accident. You all did not know the extent of her shifting magic. You didn't know it temporarily changed her that deeply.”

Rhys seemed love drunk as he handed you Little Mor, kissing both babes before you walked away. He was silent until you left, eyes trailing your body. “Cassian, I love her.”

Rhys sobbed softly, hearing words from you many had whispered before felt so different. Like a soothing balm over a wound, slowly healing it. “Cassian, Nesta did not know that the outcome of her bargaining with a God would be a cruel trick. There's no guilt to be had. She gave everything back, made herself the Cauldron’s servant. She was too young to read those unspoken lines.” Nyx finally let go, deep asleep in your arms. “I'm going to go lay him down. There is nothing for me to forgive because you did not intentionally harm me, Cassian, but maybe you three should speak.”

“I know.”

“That doesn't mean I never loved Feyre. Nor that I've forgotten her.”

A second “I know” broke through Cassian's lips, his shoulders falling as it did. “I miss her.”

Rhys felt the tears welling, felt them falling before he could will them away. “I do too. Every fucking day I miss her. I miss her hair, her laugh, her voice. I miss her correcting me.” He watched Cassian fall more, mourning the sister he had lost openly for the first time.

“But when I'm with y/n, it hurts less. When I see y/n smile, I feel more whole again. When I hear her laugh, I feel like I'm alive again. When I see her with Nyx, when I see his smile when she's holding him or playing with them, I feel like Feyre is here, nudging me towards y/n.”

Azriel's voice came, soft and slow. “Feyre would want you to move on, Rhysand. She would have wanted you to find happiness. She would probably fight all of us for being this sad.”

The thought of that made Cassian genuinely smile. His eyes sparkling with fond memories of Feyre Cursebreaker stomping her feet when he'd beat her during a sparring match. “Her and Feyre both do this thing, maybe it's an artistic thing, where they look at things really close and back away slowly.”

Rhys started laughing immediately knowing what his brother meant. “Y/n did it with one of my outfits. She said I looked great as long as she stayed 5 feet away.”

Azriel put a hand on Cassian's shoulder. “This is a roundabout way of us telling you we support you, Rhysand. We support you and y/n.”

“Two mates,” Cassian said slowly. “Imagine having two mates, Az. Two females that you get to love unconditionally and annoy whenever you'd like.”

Rhys and Azriel shared a silent look, a soft, "Not yet” coming through to Rhysand's mind. “We will leave you and y/n alone to talk.”

“There won't be much talking,” Rhysand stood slowly. “I've always been better at expressing my emotions physically.”

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[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: Eddie gets a not-so-sweet surprise when Hendrix takes some song lyrics a bit too literally.

TW: the briefest allusion to smut (referencing chapter 1), minor spousal conflict

WC: 1.5k

A/N: Based on an idea given to me by none other than @corroded-hellfire 💚 y'all wanted more of Hendrix, so here he is!

April 2003

The sedan rattles along the winding road to Forest Hills Trailer Park, pebbles crunching beneath the tires. Sunday nights meant dinner at Wayne’s, a tradition that you and Eddie both vowed to keep as long as possible.

A familiar intro trills over the car’s radio. Eddie’s eyes leave the road for a brief second to meet yours. 

Step inside  Walk this way You and me babe  Hey hey!

“Our song, Sweetheart.” Your husband grins, right hand slipping from the steering wheel to crank the volume louder. He sings along, just as animated as he was that first night at The Hideout. 

Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on Livin' like a lover with a radar phone Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp Demolition woman, can I be your man?

“Dad, what the heck?” Harris grumbles from the backseat. At eleven years old, he flips between adoration and annoyance with astounding speed. 

“Yeah, what the heck?” Hendrix echoes his brother, though his smile is a far cry from Harris’s exasperated eye roll. 

Eddie relents, twisting the knob just enough to be heard over Joe Elliott’s vocals. 

“This is the song I sang that had Mom falling in love with me.” There’s a teasing glimmer in his eyes, daring you to disagree with him. 

You eagerly take the bait. 

“Love is a strong word,” you counter. The night you and Eddie met was steeped in memories of longing and lust, of giving into your desires in what was supposed to be a fling. 

A fling that’s been happening for nearly seven years and counting. 

Eddie sits forward suddenly, snapping the volume knob so Def Leppard once again reverberates through the car. “Wait…this is the best part!” He yells back to his sons, taking an extended pause at a stop sign to headbang. 

Pour some sugar on me Ooh, in the name of love Pour some sugar on me C'mon, fire me up Pour your sugar on me I can't get enough

He leans in, smushing his lips against your cheek, as he sings along. 

I’m hot, sticky sweet From my head to my feet, yeah!

You playfully shove him away, giggles betraying the irritated exterior you’re trying to uphold. 

From the backseat, Hendrix pipes up. “What does that mean?”

Without missing a beat, Harris instigates further. “Yeah, Dad. What does this song mean?”

Damn pre-teens. If there’s no trouble to be found, they’ll make some. 

Eddie swears under his breath, cheeks flushing red as he tries to find a response suitable for his three-year-old. “Well, um, he’s just…” he falters, any and all explanations fleeing his head. He improvises song lyrics on the fly when he forgets the real ones on stage, but now his brain short-circuits? Convenient.

Luckily, you’re used to fielding questions from little kids; one of the benefits of teaching preschool. “He wants to be extra sweet so a girl loves him.”

“So he pours sugar on himself?” Hendrix’s nose wrinkles in adorable confusion.

“Yup.” Easier to confirm your son’s own ideas than to come up with an alternative. Leaning back against the headrest, you force out a giggle. “Pretty silly, huh?”

The subject is swiftly dropped as Eddie pulls the car in front of his uncle’s trailer, Wayne already standing at the door and announcing that the pizza was on the table and ready to be eaten. “Delivered hot to the door, just like they promised,” he said, repeating the Surfer Boy slogan. 

It isn’t until dinner has been eaten, the conversation naturally dwindling, that trouble begins to arise. 

“Har, I wanna look over your homework when we get back,” you say, crumpling up your sauce-stained napkin and placing it on your empty plate. Your eyes narrow when you clock the uneasy glance that your oldest son shares with his father. “You did finish your homework, right?”

Harris tries and fails to hide behind his messy mop of curls. “Not exactly,” he mutters. His uneaten crust is suddenly of incredible interest. “I was gonna do it today, but, um…”

“But what?” Your impatience is directed both at him and Eddie, the other alleged adult in the house, who was home with Harris while you took Hendrix to a playdate. 

“Well, okay, the plan was for him to do his homework,” Eddie begins, choosing his words carefully. Too carefully, like he’s trying to hide something. “But then Jeff called and told me about this tournament at the arcade; like, all of the old-school stuff we played as kids. I told Harris he could go if he promised to finish his work after, but then time got away from me—”

You grit your teeth, all-too aware of your audience present. The last thing you need is for your temper to unravel in front of Wayne and the boys. “So Harris’s homework isn’t done because…” You take a deep breath before continuing. “…because you wanted to go to the arcade?”

Wayne mumbles a barely audible “hoo, boy” as he clears the snack table. 

“I’m sorry, all right?” Eddie shakes his head. “I lost track of time, but he’s gonna get it done. It’s just, what, some math and science stuff?”

“And social studies,” Harris admits. 

Eddie’s face blanches. “Okay, so…just three things.”

Except it’s not that simple. Harris needs to take breaks to keep himself motivated and prevent frustration. He needs to reread and revise because he has trouble attending to all of the details at once. And now that he’s older, his know-it-all approach only makes homework time more challenging—for him and for you and Eddie. 

“Looks like he’ll be up until God-knows what time, then,” you shoot back. “And you can be the one up with him.”

“I said I’m s—what the hell?” Eddie leaps up, nearly falling over his feet in the process. A mountain of grainy white substance falls from his lap, into the futon’s crevices and onto the floor. 

Hendrix stands beside him, an upside-down—and now empty—bag of granulated sugar in his pudgy hands. His big eyes dart between you and Eddie, anticipating your reactions. 

“Hendrix,” Eddie says through a deep breath, channeling every ounce of remaining patience. Harris cackling doesn’t help, either. “Why did you do that?”

Your youngest son shakes the bag a few extra times for good measure. “Putting sugar on you so Mommy likes you. Like in the song.”

Shocked into stillness, Wayne speaks up. “What song made you dump all of my sugar on your dad?”

Hendrix beams as he belts out, “POUR SOME SUGAR ON MEEEEEE! STICKY SWEET!” He turns to you triumphantly. “Do you like Daddy now?”

You tuck your lips into your mouth to keep from bursting into laughter. Logically, you know that you can’t reinforce this behavior, even if it was done with good intentions. 

But it’s also really funny. 

“I like Daddy even when he’s not covered in sugar,” you say. “I love him a lot, and us having a little argument doesn’t change that.”

“But the song…” Hendrix furrows his brows. 

You breathe out a sigh. “Sometimes, people say things in songs that we don’t do in real life. Like when people beat each other up on TV or in movies. It’s fun to watch, but we aren’t actually going to do it.”

The boy pouts. “So do I gotta say sorry?”

“Yes,” you tell him, “to Daddy for pouring the sugar on him, and to Grampa Wayne for wasting his sugar.”

“Sorry, Daddy. Sorry, Grampa Wayne,” he says softly. “I didn’t know the song wasn’t for real.”

Wayne grins. “S’okay, kiddo. I’ll just drink my coffee black for a while.”

Eddie’s positioned over the kitchen sink as he brushes the rest of the granules off of his shirt. “I think we need a hard-and-fast rule that we don’t copy any of the things we hear in songs.”

“Agreed.” You start towards the tiny closet where Wayne keeps the vacuum, adjusting the hose so it can suck up the sugar embedded into the futon’s mattress. When that’s done, you grab the broom. “Now, Hen, you’re gonna hold the dustpan while I sweep the floor.”

“But—” he starts to argue, but a raise of your eyebrows silences him. “Okay…”

Eddie takes the broom from you, a tight smile on his face. “Guess I kinda deserved that, huh?” He murmured. 

“Didn’t wanna say it out loud, but…yeah.”

“I really am sorry.” He sweeps the sugar into Hendrix’s waiting pan. “It was a real dumb move on my part.”

You kiss his cheek. “I know you’re sorry. And I forgive you, you stupid, stupid man.”

“Good.” He grins wickedly. “I’d hate to have to pour more sugar on myself to win back your affections.”

You roll your eyes. “Just keep sweeping, and then we can talk about my affections.”

“Yes, dear.”

--

[tinykittendelusion]

Seventeen's reaction when they overhear another member having sex (🔞)

a/n: overheard my friends have sex at the party last weekend made me curious how the boys would react.

triggers: sexual content (MINORS DNI)

Scoups

Dad mode activated

He was just going about his day when he suddenly heard loud moans from the maknaes room. He'd sigh with a faint blush on his cheeks. Later when he sees Dino he'd remind him to be safe.

Jeonghan

Teases them about it

Jeonghan was backstage with the rest of seventeen and they were about to go on stage. He notices that Joshua is missing. He'd go to check on josh near the toilets when from one of the cubicles he hears yous softly moaning Joshua's name. Would smirk and later tease him about it.

Joshua

Would laugh and ignore it

Now you need to understand Joshua has the patience of gods. so when he overhears you and Dokyeom in the shower he just shakes his head and finds another room to hang out in.

Jun

Face red whenever he takes to both of you

In your defence you thought all the members had gone home. But jun came back to get his sweater when he hears you and hoshi in the practice room going at it he'd just turn around and leave forgetting all about his sweater. He'd be so red the next day that the members would think he's not well.

Hoshi

Would yell Horanghe and leave

When he walked past Woozi's studio he heard something fall and he wanted to check just that. It's not his fault that you both were going at it on the floor. He'd yell loudly "HORANGHE" and leave but you'd notice his red ears for the next few days.

Wonwoo

Leave and stay in a hotel for a few days

You and mingyu were having sex in the kitchen when this precious bean arrived home.But as soon as he opened the door he could hear you both so.. he closed it. Would stay in a nearby hotel for a few days just to give you privacy. Mingyu might start thinking that he is seeing someone.

Woozi

Would make a sensual song

They were overseas on a schedule and you had flown over to surprise Seungkwan and woozi's only mistake was his room was right opposite seungkwan. When coming back from drinking with the other members he could hear your moans loud and clear in the hallway. Later that night he kept tossing and turning thinking about what he overheard. Ends up writing a millian dollar song.

Dokyeom

Avoids you both for a few days

In his defence he thought the both of you had passed out somewhere, he didn't expect you both to be having sex completely wasted in the restaurant's washroom. He would immediately turn around and send a hyung to deal with it. Would avoid both minghao and you for a few days because he would be so awkward and embarrassed.

Mingyu

Would give you soundproofing material for your birthday/anniversary

You and wonwoo were LOUD not his fault. He'd be sitting in his room and contemplating why he's living with his best friend and his girlfriend when he is rich enough to afford another house. Would gift you guys some soundproofing equipment cause "i want to be sane". Is more annoyed than embarrassed.

Minghao

Invest in soundproof headphones

The dorms were a place for him to relax but how could he when you and Jun were apparently having the sex of your lives? would roll his eyes and text vernon for recommendations on soundproof headphones. Again he's more annoyed than embarrassed but he won't bring it up to either of you.

Seungkwan

Starts singing loudly

His house was filled with moans every time they'd come back from an overseas schedule you and your boyfriend jeonghan kept going at it for all night. Tired and irritated boo starts singing on the top of his voice and ends up singing till dawn. He gets so lost into singing and having fun he never realised that the noises stopped hours ago.

Vernon

Shuts the door

The boys were all at your and scoups place to watch a movie between which you and scoups had escaped to his room for more interesting things but one of you forgot to close the room properly and vernon was tired of you both ruining the movie for him finally got up and shut the door and then turned up the volume of the tv.

Dino

Gets turned on

You and vernon sounded like you both were having the best sex of your life. Dino was sitting in the living room with the strawberries his dad had given for all the members.He suddenly realises he's sporting a boner and leaves quietly. It's not because he's attracted to either of you but the act of sex in itself.

a/n: I laughed way too much while writing vernon's and hoshi's parts😭🤣

[wlntrsldler]

smau where the betrayal didn’t happen; fratboy! luke x poseidon! reader

a/n: i have no affiliations with these greek orgs and im def playing into the sterotypes 😭

part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 (final)

tagged chrisr0driguez.

lukecastell4n: rush kappa sigma.

chrisr0driguez: my brother 🤞🏾

chrisr0driguez: kappa sig 🔛🔝

liked by lukecastell4n.

poseidonsfavchild: you are definitely not old enough to be drinking??

lukecastell4n: don’t be a snitch 🙄

bethchase: the first pic looks so dangerous what do y’all be doing out there

gr0verunderwood: no fr

clarisselarue: u dont wanna know beth

bethchase: oh

clarisselarue: just say ksig like the rest of us???? why r u using the frat’s whole government name 💀

silenabeauregard: i have never heard anyone call ksig KAPPA SIGMA LIKE LETS BE SO SERIOUS

charliebeck: we can’t abbreviate our frat names. we get in trouble 🙄

silenabeauregard: ok mr. sigma nu

yn_yln: my fav frat <3

lukecastell4n: kappa sig’s sweetheart 🤍

tagged lukecastell4n.

yn_yln: thanks for being the best formal dddate 🩵

lukecastell4n: dlam

lukecastell4n: did i do that right

yn_yln: LMAOOO yes i love u

silenabeauregard: him carrying u bc ur feet hurt is so real of him

clarisselarue: maybe he’s not that bad

silenabeauregard: perhaps not 🤔

chrisr0driguez: lukecastell4n you seeing this?

yn_yln: stop 😭😭😭 i promise he’s good to me

clarisselarue: he better be 🙂

liked by lukecastell4n.

poseidonsfavchild: i keep seeing alc in all ur frat and sorority posts like is this ALL YALL DO? what happened to volunteering? philanthropy?

yn_yln: we have our annual fall fundraiser coming up if u want to donate

gr0verunderwood: now why would u say that when u know he’s broke 🤨

bethchase: HELP

tagged silenabeauregard, clarisselarue, and lukecastell4n.

yn_yln: when girls night gets crazy so you gotta call your fav uber driver to take you and the girls home

thanks for the picture lena 🩷

silenabeauregard: pi phi x tridelt crossover 🏹 🔱🤍

yn_yln: my favorite angel 👼🏽

lukecastell4n: at your service 🫡

yn_yln: love ya lukey

lukecastell4n: love ya more

clarisselarue: ok after last night, i approve of the frat boy ig

yn_yln: he deserves financial compensation for our horrible drunk rendition of “linger” in the car

silenabeauregard: STOP I FORGOT ABOUT THAT 💀

charliebeck: your snap friends didnt. we got a 30 minute snap story of you guys singing it because you said the crowd deserved an “encore”

silenabeauregard: but u watched the whole thing tho? fan behavior 🥱

chrisr0driguez: would you date a frat boy

this comment has been deleted.

yn_yln: chrisr0driguez say it with your chest 😭

chrisr0driguez: yn pleaseeee dont tell her it was a moment of weakness

lukecastell4n: shooters shoot 🤷🏻‍♂️

yn_yln: ^ what he said

[otakuworks]

❛ 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑. reborn au

feat. Zhongli x Reincarnated!GN!Reader | PART I | wc. 4.6K

Based on 'See You In My 19th Life' | overview. this webtoon follows the story of a woman who can somehow remember all her past lives.

sum. after a sweet hello, your lips never found its way to say the bittersweet goodbye. because you knew you would always find your way back to him even if he won't recognize you in your renewable lives.

note. some scenes are purposely inaccurate to the canon lore

main.mlist genshin.mlist | xiao ver.

You first met him as Morax, a little child dragon you grew up discreetly meeting at a very convenient time of your day, never knowing what's stored for the two of you.

He first met you as Y/N who resides at the countryside near Mt. Tianheng in hopes to find new things to discover across the vast lands of Teyvat. And he did. He found you.

Young Morax found you crouched under an oak tree, the wind flowing with your otherworldly voice, enrapturing him in blissful comfort.

Perched in the tree branch, he listens intently and let himself melt in your grace. It wasn't the first time he finds you warbling a melodic tune, and each time he comes back to hear more from you, it's always a different song and it wouldn't cease to amaze him how much ditty you know.

He lost count on how often he'd fall asleep with your voice lulling him and wakes up feeling empty as the epilogue of his day is always spent without your presence.

Sometimes he wonders if you know he has been watching you, and if you do, why aren't you approaching him? No matter, young Morax doesn't intend to befriend with you.

But then one day...

"Hello! You must be the boy who likes to hear me sing by the tree."

He was caught red handed, perhaps he became distracted that he didn't realize he's been shamelessly stalking you. He couldn't stop his curiosity to follow you in your way home.

Not only he's been spying on you, now he sounds like a stalker. But you didn't suspect, there wasn't anything to be suspicious of anyway.

"H-Huh? H-How did you know?" He gotta commend you for your keen senses. He's the Dragon between the two of you, which means he's supposed to be the one who has sharper senses.

"You must be good at anything but hiding. I have known you've been following me, but I never get to see you up close, you're really majestic looking, by the way." You chuckled as his poor attempt of masking his flushed face at your compliment.

"I don't mind your company, in fact, I want to be friends with you."

Friends. What a foreign concept for young Morax.

He has heard of that term, it's common among mortals, but he's not a mortal. Does this 'friend' term stretches to immortals like him as well? If so, then he has no reason to refuse.

Says the person who one minute ago thought of every alternative ways to stay out of your way.

He was skeptical at your optimism, most mortals would be astounded at his appearance and try to persuade him to spill whatever secrets he has, but as he got to know you better, he was a bit guilty to categorize you as one of them.

His horns and inhumane features? Young Morax found out you're only fascinated by his unique physical looks. And never doubted it.

"Cool! You have horns just like our boars, where did you get those? Can I touch them?"

"Did you just compare my horns to a pig? Pigs don't even have horns! How disgraceful!"

The sparkle in your eyes quickly died down as it came, and the young Morax feels tight in his chest just seeing your smile turns into a frown. You insulted his pride though!

You mumbled a meek apology but still kept your sheepish smile, a glimmer of hope that one day he'd let you do it.

The next days were spent by you sneaking out your house every midnight to meet up with the dragon, Morax. He's slightly skittish, oddly resembling him that of a cat, which is cute.

You probably shouldn't be calling a literal Dragon cute, legends depicted them as tyrannical creatures who seek treasures.

Ah! Classic children's story to scare the kids away at night, it did affect you in some way.

But you can't help it when he would eagerly look at you whenever he asks you to sing him a song.

You'd sit side by side under the tree, you have to admit he'd either falls asleep amidst your song or asks you for the lyrics so he can sing it to himself too.

You even dedicated a song that lets a certain flower bloom.

"Glaze Lily? What's that?" Young Morax asked with tilted head.

A smile outstretched your lips, "Beautiful, right? It transforms the memories of the land into its fragrance during florescence."

"Really?! Is that why you're always out in the dark?" You chuckled sheepishly, feigning ignorance, "Don't know what you're talking."

You got to know each other, held hands like innocent children, share what little knowledge your pea sized brain can, hug whenever one seeks comfort, eat under the glistening sun.

Morax is... a sensitive individual, albeit rough around the edges, but he's young and still learning, and you're unbelievably patient with his attitude— a quirk from you that he greatly appreciates.

From that, young Morax grew fond of you and it isn't one sided.

He flies by the same tree and gives you random things he finds magnificent, whether it could be a rock he found by the lake or a rare item that no one has ever discovered before.

Well, the legend wasn't lying about Dragons and treasure, for sure

You'd laugh at the strangest things he discovers but accepted them nonetheless. Every object he gives you is worth something.

This has been part of your routine for days, weeks, months, even years maybe. You don't know how much time has gone by whenever you're with him and you never bothered to count.

Before you know it, the two of you are almost in young adulthood, he grew up to be a fine man, much unlike you were expecting. Nothing changed from your friendship, until now.

You were taken by surprise when he suddenly blurted out one day

"I want to show you what I see from up there one day, Y/N."

He gazes at you much differently when he looks at you when you were younger. There's a glint of promise in his eyes that you can't pinpoint, it sent shivers all over your nerves.

"You can just fly me up there, Morax. I'm sure I'm not heavy." You muster a smile in an attempt to ease your quickening heartbeats.

He never gave a reply, he only stared at you so intensely that it feels like he's poking your deepest and innermost thoughts.

The way he stares at you never fails to summon the tickling butterflies in your stomach and the blood on your cheeks. You merely regarded that as your hormones, anyone would be flustered if someone they're close to stare at them like that.

You should've known better that nothing in your world stays permanent. The only thing you remember after that day was his twisted look of desperation to keep you alive and tear stained amber dyes trying to get the last image of you in his memories.

"N-No... Y/N please stay with me. D-Don't leave m-me just yet." It hurts you more than the numbing pain in your abdomen to see him broke down like a cornered prey. So helpless and vulnerable.

"I-I'll always be w-with you, Morax..."

So cruel, just when you've begun to realize the burgeoning feelings you have for the Dragon, fate took you away before you have the chance to confess.

Should you be selfish to confess your feelings to him? If you do, it seems like you'll be punishing him an endless torture ahead, and you would never wish Morax to suffer for eternity.

You only smiled and caressed his horns, even in your deathbed you're glad you died in the arms of the man you ever loved.

At the last moment, you heard the anguished wail erupts from his throat as he clutches your form closer, begging and crying for you to come back, to not leave him like this, that he needed you, that he loves you. His pleas fell on deaf ears, for you weren’t there to hear him anymore.

But it became clear to you that he reciprocated your love.

It came a shocking twist when you opened your eyes you can hear multiple cooing sounds from around you. Didn't I die in his arms? Where am I? Turns out, you were reborn. But not as Y/N anymore and you were given a surname.

Unfortunately, the Celestia isn't so forgiving. You were suffering from an unknown illness that took away your second life at such a young age.

You trained hard and learned martial arts in your third life as you were born from a family whose tradition is to produce well-trained warriors in the future.

Fourth to eight life came by like a blur, there were times when you get to lived as an innocent child only for it to be ripped away a few years later with your past memories resurfacing.

You stopped counting after it hits a dozen, born in different class, society and unnamed nation. There's no point of it.

All you want is to look for Morax, but will he remember you? Will he even recognize you as Y/N? You're no longer the kid he grew fond of. No, you're much different than before.

What about him? Decades have past, does he still know of your name? You could've been a fragment of his childhood that he dare not talk about with his new friends.

Will I make your life more difficult by trying to reconnect with you, Morax?

Those thoughts haunted you for nights, often occuring in your dreams.

But what can you do, you're so far away from Mt. Tianheng, you don't even know if the village you lived in still exists nor do you know if Morax still visits the tree you first met.

Even if you did meet him in your new life, you ought to stay as acquaintances.

Aiding him in the shadows and lessening his burdens within your power.

In your hundredth life, all of your training in your third life is proven useful at the moment. You're known as the infamous warrior with no name that took down the monsters around Teyvat, you were revered to the people in the Guili Assembly.

War is threatening to wage amongst Gods and mortals alike.

When it came, no one is safe in and out of the battlefield. To survive they must fight tooth and nail, paint the lands in sea of red and play the game of thrones.

It was gratuitously morbid, gruesome and unjust. A macabre of series of deaths surrounded your every wake, your hundredth life is the epitome of a living nightmare. Horrifyingly memorable.

You were at the sidelines, watching as the war unfold, keeping tabs on Morax's allies and eradicating whatever threat they face.

That's when you came across the stunning Goddess Guizhong, the Ruler of Clouds, Goddess of Dust. A very close companion of Morax whom he met at the Guili Assembly along with the others.

She's capable and quick-witted, a type of peculiar person Morax wouldn't hesitate to be friends with.

As of the moment, a claymore is alarmingly closing its gap towards her, ready to slice her open.

Then you heard him scream, a cry of a man who's about to lose everything he has gained of.

That cry sent flashbacks of his tear-stained cheeks. No, you don't want to see him like that again! You'd do anything to chase away that vulnerable image of Morax, he deserves happiness and love.

Your feet went autopilot and swept away the Goddess out of the way, severing your lower limbs in the process and instantly killing you. Your eyes opened and you have started your new life.

Was Morax relieve that Guizhong lived? Did he wonder why a stranger would save her? Did he ever ask who you were? Did he... recognize you at the very least?

Your new parents panicked as they tried to appease the crying infant in their arms. Unbeknownst to your pained heart.

You saw for a brief moment before your demise how Guizhong's plausible absence will affect him. He will mourn her death as much as he lamented yours. For decades or centuries, you know he has been scarred by your passing.

You don't want him to go through that again. It's a different pain you feel when you see him tearing up, you rather get minced by a claymore than to watch him break down.

He garnered the reputation of a tyrant— but you knew better that Morax grew up with compassionate heart, he appreciates anyone no matter how insignificant they think they are.

Which is why you hold yourself from meeting him. He may not remember you, but he will certainly get attached to you once you had your way to his heart.

And a dragon who can outlive you in any lives will only suffer more from your death.

You dedicated your lives in living peacefully, learning history and new things as humanity evolves.

You vow to never fall in love if it isn't Morax you'll spend your mortal life with.

Even if he has someone he can fall in love with.

"Have you heard about the land Lord Morax and Lady Guizhong are building in Mt. Tianheng?" Gossips are everywhere about the infamous partners who survived the Archon War, there's no mouth that has not utter their names, and you're no exception.

A grin spreads over your lips as you sip your tea with elegance, "I've heard, I haven't seen them in person but the rumors about them guaranteed they're ambitious people with good hearts."

This has been a hobby you never knew; praising Morax to elate people's opinion about him. It's your small contribution to his flourishing nation.

You want people to love and respect Morax dearly just as you loved him in your childhood.

You prayed to the new Archons for Morax to find someone he can love and lean on. Someone that can be his source of strength to keep living. Someone much better than leaving him with death.

Now that he found someone he can be with, your goal in your next lives is to protect Liyue's history.

From the names of ancient relics and objects, war waged by the Gods, Nations that were built underneath the once blood soaked lands, fallen heroes who are forgotten— you know all of them. You're openly willing to offer tutelage to the inquisitive.

You sighed at the thought, it certainly will be lonely in your part. Immortal gods can still die— a death in which they'd leave their memories behind and start anew. Morax will eventually cease to existence with lovable Nation and Guizhong to remember him.

And you? Countless past lives yet you never found true happiness, and none of them was worth to remember for anyone.

Part of you feels happy for Morax finally moving on from your death eons ago, but you're still human so you're susceptible to those horrible impulses of bitterness at a basic level.

But you don't want to be a person who looks at Guizhong with jaundiced eyes just because you couldn't have Morax, so you suck it up and move on the fact Morax is in love with another.

At least my sacrifice isn't a total waste.

"Aren't they? I've met Lady Guizhong, she's such a beautiful and soft spoken woman. She and the Lord of Geo are a perfect match. I wish the two of them eternal blessings."

A tug at your heart left an unpleasant feeling, your brain tried to reason that at least he's with someone that'll love him more than you did. That can appease your bitter aching heart a bit.

How ironic. You built a nation where you first met me.

And showed her what you can see up there like you promised me.

Is that how you honor my death, Morax?

"Wow! You sure do know many things, Y/N!" The floating emergency food expressed her awe in your display of knowledge and the traveller couldn't agree more with her, "She's right, you never cease to surprise us."

Their exclaims were followed by your enchanting laugh, "I'm glad I can be at your service, Honory Knight."

You were simply ethereal to look at, you maybe a mortal like the traveller but the Blondie thinks otherwise.

Paimon and her travelling buddy met you by the Starnach Cliff when they were attempting to subdue Dvalin. Jean and Diluc already know you're part of the Adventurer's Guild as you often visit Mondstadt from time to time.

They didn't expect you to join them in their excursion in Stormterror's Lair, it turns out you're a great addition to the team.

You befriended with the traveller after the whole Stormterror fiasco and catch up with Kaeya.

You don't stand out the most in the crowd, you can blend in with everyone and no one would acknowledge your existence. But the traveller can sense the weight of the wisdom you withhold.

It almost feels like you're one of the Seven...

"Is there something else I can help you with, Traveller?"

"Huh?! Oh... I— Uhh... You've been telling us stories and fun facts about Mondstadt. If you don't mind, can you tell us about Liyue?"

For an ephemeral moment, the traveller saw your facade crumbles and slowly morphed into a nostalgic expression.

"Hmm. I'll tell you a quick introduction. Liyue is built in Mt. Tianheng after the Lord of Geo attained one of seven seats, unlike the Anemo Archon who's known to not show himself, he descends down once a year to give blessings to the people of Liyue."

"Exactly how Venti told us, but more detailed."

"He sounds a lot more of a decent God than Tone-Deaf Bard."

Her statement elicited a quiet snicker from you, "I'll be off then, I'll see you around soon." Paimon's expression deflated, "You're not coming with us?"

You shake your head, "I'll visit you when I can, until then I hope for your safe travels."

You forced a smile and took a different path from the traveller, as their figures disappear in the horizon, you felt your smile slip up as the sun whisks past the mountains turning to dusk.

Solitude in the dark has been part of your daily routine, you come and go whenever you feel like it, not knowing when to return.

The excuse you told to Paimon isn't entirely a lie, you couldn't bring yourself to go in Liyue when there's active Fatui agents scattered around the vicinity.

Let's just say you're not in good terms with the Fatui. Who isn't?

Nevertheless, whatever curse you have continued to persist in your thousandth life. You roamed around Teyvat and tell stories that even historians don't know.

Repeated lives were lived by just you traversing in each corners of Teyvat that even Archons never knew it existed.

Along the way, you've come terms with your feelings and settled it down like a dormant volcano. Morax is your first love, you enjoyed reminiscing the memories you made with him, you keep those memories locked up in the depths of your mind and often recount them in particular leisure time of the day.

You still love him, and you'll always be by his side whenever he needs a helping hand, but enough is enough, you've suffered enough to your own idiocy and fears. It's time to move on.

Morax continued to strive forward because he has changed, for the better of course. If you want to continue living the next lives of yours then you need to change too.

You met new friends and companions that you begin to trust and have fun with, the traveller and the emergency food included. It wasn't lonely as you thought it would be.

Sometimes you wonder why do you have such curse bestowed upon you. Did the Celestia punish you for a crime? Did you touch a forbidden relic in your first life? Is there a way to get rid of it?

You stopped in your tracks and you gaze up in the sky.

Am I the only one with such curse?

Damn, you really need to get your priorities straight when you have so many unanswered questions.

Basking the remnants of the ever glowing star, you turn around to walk the path that leads you to the Land of Eternity.

A new journey awaits you as you skid through the mycelium path.

Rex Lapis has died.

What a year starting with the news of a tragic death of an Archon.

Fret not Liyue citizens, Rex Lapis assumed the form of Zhongli as a consultant in the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. In all honesty, he thinks you would facepalm on how poorly delivered that news was.

Zhongli now blends in with the mortals, often strolling to acknowledge the accomplishments he has done as an Archon.

There were too many sacrifices he made just to achieve such title and godly powers. It's uncountable.

Whenever he strolls down the streets of Liyue, there's never a day that he is not reminded of the fact Mt. Tianheng is the very foundation of Liyue. It serves as a reminder that you are his pillar when intrusive thoughts start to linger in his mind.

Oftentimes, your face is only a blur in his memory, no matter what he does he can't seem to remember your face, but your name has been engraved on his mind for eons.

He misses hearing the sound of your name leaving his lips. He misses how ignorant you both were to the world's suffering. He misses your mesmerizing voice that lulls him to sleep.

Whoever fellow Archon listening to his complex thoughts must have heard him and granted his not-so-impossible wish.

"Hey look. Doesn't that sound like a story Y/N has told us before?" A child(e)— no, a floating fae pointed at the storyteller.

But Zhongli couldn't care less about whoever she was pointing. Did he hear her right? Was it just his ears deceiving him?

Y/N... that's your name.

That's the name he longed to hear again.

Why in the seven nations of Teyvat would they mention your name? Is it just a coincidence that someone has the same name as you? No, that couldn't be it.

Something flared inside him, it's been awhile since he felt this excitement, it's not far fetched when he became your friend.

With no recollection, he became friends with the traveller and the emergency food floating companion.

When he asks them about you, an array of hope filled his entire being and he swore his Dragon feature almost burst into existence

Y/N L/N, a member of the Adventurer's Guild, he's certain you've been in Liyue if you know about its rich culture.

But where are you? He wants to go find you. Hug you like when you were kids. Sing him songs. Bring you random things he can find. Speak the words that were left unspoken when you died.

So many questions brooding his mind; are you really Y/N? If so, were you reincarnated? Does that mean you don't remember him?

The elation he felt dropped. Right... he shouldn't be disappointed if it turns out his hunch is wrong. Even if you're not the Y/N he was expecting, he wants to know you as who you are and not compare the similarities and differences you have with the Y/N he knows.

"Oh yeah, Y/N mentioned they'll be visiting Liyue soon, Mr. Zhongli." The Traveler quipped, assessing the abrupt change of emotions on the consultant's face at the mention of your name.

Paimon and her travelling buddy can't help to wonder if you two are acquaintances, or perhaps something more than that. Zhongli seems to be expecting your arrival from now on.

"Is that so? Thank you for informing me, Traveler. I shall see to it that their stay will be comfortable." He smiled.

Stay in what? In the Funeral Parlor? The Traveler sweat drop while Paimon is tempted to point out that's Verr Goldet's job. Good thing their companion put a hand on her mouth and excuse themselves

There's no time to stall! He thought.

He's determined to check it himself, it can go two ways and Zhongli won't be petulant of the result.

Archons forbid if he ever finds you, because he will not let you go.

>> PART 2

©OTAKUWORKS | 2022

[gh0stsp1d3r]

rafe cameron as a baby daddy who doesnt allow u to talk to other ppl

stop i love this, I kinda changed it so reader only talks to people who he lets her (: so like absolutely no pouges

𝒟ℴ𝓃𝓉.

Masterlist

Warnings: dark!rafe, sorta controlling behavior, he’s not a good daddy, gun pointing at Sarah again sorry girlie, gun flashing that’s it rlly,

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Rafe had little rules when it came to the new house. But there was two he always put emphasis on.

1. Don’t open the door for him, wait it out.

2. Don’t talk to people he doesn’t give you permission to talk to, or people he doesn’t like. No strangers, no pogues.

He walked around, pacing the living room while on the phone. He whispered so he didn’t wake the baby who you just got to fall asleep.

“That’s not what I fucking said!” He said, voice rising in volume until he looked back down the hallway and realized his mistake, the baby awoke with a loud cry.

You gave him a look, a look he knew by now. He quietly walked out and went onto the porch with a sigh.

“Sh. Sh…” you mumbled, picking her up and gently rocking her in your arms.

Today was going to be long.

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Rafe was out, he mumbled he’d be back and he was going with a friend. You believed him when you saw Topper coming out the car.

Finally, the baby had been sleeping again. You fed her and Rafe gave her a shower. It was night now, and you just switched on the tv, turning it down and curling up on the couch.

You ended up falling asleep, that was until a harsh and loud knock came from the door.

“Open the fuck up, Rafe!” She shouted, you furrowed an eyebrow. You knew that voice. Sarah Cameron, Rafes sister. He despised her.

You rubbed your eyes out of tiredness, the baby would wake if she keeps it up, you thought. And that was the last thing you wanted.

But if you opened the door and talked to the pogues, Rafe would be livid. But as soon as you heard her let out a small cry, you weren’t thinking and got up quickly.

“Hello?” You grumbled out, opening the door. her knocks stopped when she saw your face.

“Oh. Shit. I’m- I’m sorry. I forgot he had a-“

She was cut off by a cry, making you groan.

“He’s not here.”

“Where is he?” A blonde haired boy asked, lightly pushing Sarah.

“I don’t know. Can I please just go-“ You lied. You did know.

“We’re really sorry, but it’s really important. You have to understand-“

“I’m not telling a bunch of kids where my boyfriend is so you guys can go beat him up or something. Sorry. If you’ll excuse me, I have a baby to take care of.” You closed the door, leaving them dumbfounded.

“Does Rafe have a baby?” John B asked, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I didn’t know that.” Sarah mumbled.

“I’m more shocked Rafe has had a girlfriend this long.”

They stood there, waiting for him. You didn’t even notice them after you left.

They didn’t know however, that he had a little camera installed, where he was watching on his phone.

You didn’t think about it until you went back into the nursery to try and get her to sleep again.

“Shit.” You mumbled under your breath.

“I gotta go, man. I’ll see you later.” Rafe said to his friend suddenly, standing up and saying his goodbyes.

He practically raced towards his house, looking back on his phone to see them all talking and just waiting at his front door.

He got out the car and they all went towards him.

“Never fucking come here again.” He was seething with anger when they came up to him.

They all began to talk over each other to him, in anger.

“Shut up!” He shouted, hands moving towards his waistband. They all didn’t, and one of them went to go punch him but they just ended up on the floor.

“Get the fuck away from my house. Leave.” He flashed his gun now.

“We’re not fuckin’ leaving-“ his sister began to argue.

He pointed it at Sarah, one of the boys going in front of her.

“You didn’t tell me you had a baby.” She spoke from behind the boy.

“Leave. Or I will fucking kill every single one of you. Was all he said, putting the gun down and walking towards his home, ignoring them. His gun still in hand as he opened the door.

They walked away, defeated but with a new plan. He was dripping with anger when he entered the house.

“What did I tell you?” He asked you, before you could say anything.

“I know, I know, but I-“

“There was a reason I didn’t want them knowing you or her.” He motioned to the nursery room. He walked closer, gently grabbing your face and looking into your eyes, wiping the hair from your forehead.

“There’s a reason why you can’t talk to them.”

“I know. But they woke her up and I didn’t-“

“You talked to dirty fuckin’ pogues. They know you exist and they know she exists.” His hands were trembling, you noticed.

You slowly grabbed the gun from his hand.

“I’m sorry.”

“I just don’t want anything happening to my girls, that’s all.” His voice was shaky, his hands still on your face as he searched your eyes.

“I’m sorry. I know. I love you. We’ll be perfectly fine, okay?” You put your forehead on his, he nodded, his breathing calming down.

“I love you.”