#he wasn't always this fucking mean. i think he got worse here than he was back home.

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

Why do I still hate myself for not livin up to the person I used to pretend to be

[papurgaatika]

Nothing Fucks With My Baby

Pairing: Joel Miller x F! Reader

A/N: This got so out of hand so fast, but it is FINALLY here. This is for all my Joel girlies with crazy daddy issues, I see you and I get you. I really didn’t mean for the first half of this fic to be so angst-filled, but I think the smut is a good trade-off for it in the end. AS ALWAYS humongous shoutout to my beloved beta readers @joelsdagger and @carlynkurin yall kill me with your comments and I love yall so much. And yes the title is a Hozier lyric, I love that guy. Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!! Tags: daddy issues, minor misogyny, minor body shaming, angst, Joel wants to beat up reader’s dad, age gap, daddy kink, pillow humping, exhibitionism if you squint, oral (f receiving), Joel Miller’s filthy mouth, breeding kink, cumplay kinda, protective Joel, no outbreak AU, no use of Y/N Word Count: 5.3k

Visiting your parents with Joel for the first time brings up some bad memories. And lets you make a few good ones too.

(aka Joel hates your parents and fucks you in your childhood bedroom)

Your fingers stilled over your phone, minor panic setting into your bones when you got a text from your mother asking you to come over for dinner with her and your father. Now you loved your parents and you think they loved you too, in whatever weird way they showed it, but your relationship with them was never amazing. They were overbearing when you lived with them, always expecting the most of you but never recognizing what you actually did, like you were never going to be enough in their eyes. You were a grown woman, a degree in hand, and jobs lined up, but with rent at an all-time high and entry-level positions barely paying enough, you had sucked it up for as long as you could and continued to live with them. The passive-aggressive remarks about their friends’ kids moving out and about your degree essentially being a waste barely mattered anymore, you kept your head down and didn't engage unless you really had to. Your daydreams of moving out and being independent dwindled a little with every snide comment your father made, but you were living rent-free so you didn't say anything. 

But then you met Joel, and Joel couldn’t see a single flaw in you, his perfect angel. You weren’t even planning on dating anyone, especially not someone this much older than you, but there was just something about him that drew you in. You could still remember the day you met him like yesterday. You had been driving home after taking a much-needed weekend to go see one of your friends from college and managed to run over a nail and saw your tire pressure going down. You had pulled over and contemplated calling your father, but the idea of him driving out to lecture you on being a better driver and why he thinks women shouldn't drive just gave you a headache. So, being the self-determined woman you were, you got out of your car, popped on a YouTube video on how to change a tire, and knelt next to your car. 

Granted, the video wasn’t helping you out much, and your headache was getting worse under the blistering Austin sun, and you felt the tears start to brim in your eyes as you rested your head against the door of your car. You were seconds away from sucking it up and calling your father when you heard a gentle, “Do you need any help, ma’am?” You’re not one to usually take help from men, especially not random men on the side of the road, but your head was pounding and your eyes were red, and something about his voice just put you at ease. So you sigh and nod, explaining how you really did try to change it, but it just wasn't working and he shoots you the prettiest smile you’ve ever seen in your life. “I’ve got it for ya don’t worry, it’s just a tire ‘ain't worth those tears.” 

You stand to the side as he kneels down to take a look at the damage before standing back up and grabbing the tools from your trunk. His arms were working on unscrewing the bolts of your (now useless) tire, and you couldn’t help but stare at them. His sleeves were pulled taut over his biceps and beads of sweat were rolling down his tanned skin. You watched as the fabric of his shirt clung to his belly and his gray-streaked hair grew damp from the heat, finding yourself unconsciously biting your lip when your eyes linger on the veins that strained under his arms. He lets out a soft grunt when he gets off the ground and turns to look at you. “I don't think it’ll be safe to drive on your spare sweetheart, let me call you a tow.” 

“Oh! No, it’s okay really,” your eyes go wide and your brows furrow as you try to figure out how much it would cost and who you would even call to come pick you up, but he’s already dialing a number into his phone and telling them they owe him a favor before hanging up and giving you another smile. “You really didn’t have to do that-” Your words falter because you realize you don’t know his name.

“Joel. And I couldn't let ya deal with it yourself, my mama raised me better than that.” You blush softly at his words, genuinely grateful to have met him. You let out a breath, your tears having subsided and your heart rate finally calming down before sitting back down on the ground, fully expecting Joel to walk back to his truck and head out, but are instead met with a frown when you look back over at him. “Can't just leave you here like this sweetheart,” he sighs looking down at you, “Let me take ya to the garage at least, just so I know you’re safe.” 

Quite honestly, you weren’t used to someone treating you with this much care and attentiveness, you weren’t sure what to do with it. But the worried look in his eyes and the warmth of his voice have you nodding, taking his hand and getting into his truck to go to the garage with him. You sit in surprisingly comfortable silence for the next few minutes until you decide to be bold and ask for his number “Well, just in case my tire pops again” Your words are matched with a small grin playing on your lips, and JoeL, well joel was a goner the moment you had said those words. 

You and Joel had moved relatively fast, only being together for about eight months before you were packing your stuff and moving in with him. He had heard all about your parents before then. He saw the tears that fell after a fight with them, heard the words they threw at you while you recounted to him, and he could never imagine treating someone, especially not someone as perfect as you, like that. He could recount how many times you would curl up into him, breathing in his scent to try and calm down while he ran a soothing hand over your back and told you it was going to be okay. So it was no surprise that he had a few choice words when you mentioned that your mother had asked you both to come over. “Dunno how civil I’ll manage to be, sweet girl” he groans into your shoulder, arm draped over your middle as y'all lay in bed. You giggle softly and tilt your head to the side so it’s leaning on top of his slightly. 

“Gonna have to be,” you catch his fingers in your own, running circles over the rough skin to soothe yourself. “I haven’t seen them since I moved out... I just want them to be okay with us I guess.” A sigh leaves your lips when you think about how displeased they used to be about anything that you ever did growing up, that displeasure skyrocketing when you started seeing Joel. 

You feel him still your fingers, taking your hand and wrapping it with his own, before shifting to look at you fully. “I can’t promise they’ll be okay, sweet girl, but just know I’m in it with you forever okay?” He brings your hand to his lips and presses a tender kiss to your knuckles and you feel your eyes start to water as you nod. “Now, we don’t need to think ‘bout it for a while, lets get some sleep yeah?” You curl into his side and mumble out a soft okay before letting yourself drift off, feeling the weight of his arm draped around you. 

The rest of the week passed with relative ease, you were busy with work and Joel had been doting over you more than usual to keep your mind off of things. Eventually, Friday rolls around and you find yourself in Joel’s truck fidgeting with the rings on your fingers, heart pounding in your chest. You’re staring out the window lost in the endless stream of anxiety that is your brain, until you feel Joel's hand, warm and heavy, running small circles on your knee. You let your hand rest on top of his, basking in the intimacy of it all before he pulls up to your old house. You can feel your breathing start to quicken, chewing on the inside of your lip, before looking over at him. “Wait, baby, can we go back, I can’t do this. I’m not ready,” your words were tumbling over each other, panic clear on your face. 

“Hey, hey, look at me angel. It’s gonna be okay. We can do this okay?” His hands are on your cheeks making you look at him, and you subconsciously lean into his touch. “I don’t like them any more than you do, but I’ll try to be on my best behavior, and if we go in and you wanna leave at any time, we’re outta here okay?” He breathes out a small sigh of relief when you nod, a small giggle leaving your lips at his words. You take one last steadying breath before throwing open the door of the truck, smoothing out your outfit, and letting the flowers you had picked up for your mother rest in your arms. 

You knock at the door and feel your nerves setting in again, but Joel's hand is holding yours and you feel like he’s pulling you back down to the ground again, keeping you steady. You’re both met with a loud laugh and are pulled in for a hug when your mother opens the door. “Oh! Sweetheart, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you! You certainly look like you’re eating well.” You did not miss those passive-aggressive comments at all, so you hand her the flowers with a tight-lipped smile, mumbling something about just having more time to make the food you enjoy, 

And being the attentive boyfriend that he is, Joel senses your discomfort immediately. He turns on his southern charm and throws one of those gorgeous smiles at your mother, complimenting her cooking and how good it smells in here. “If her cooking is any indicator, I’ll be asking for a to-go bag tonight.” Your mother just blushes and goes on about how her food isn’t that good but she hopes he likes it. You grin, watching the two of them interact helping your nerves dissipate slightly. Joel was always a charmer, that’s why you were drawn to him, he knew how to make you feel safe which was something you had seldom felt in this house. 

You’re sitting on one of the chairs, head leaning against his shoulder while he laughs at something your mother says. It finally feels like you can breathe like you don't have to put your guard up because Joel does it for you. And then suddenly it’s like the floor is being ripped out from under you as your father makes his way downstairs. It was like you were 16 again begging to get his approval for anything, waiting for the day someone would whisk you out of that house. You sit up straight and move your head from Joel’s shoulder and let your eyes dart to his, and he is visibly angry. Joel knows about your father, the fights and the screaming matches, the way you were so similar it made you sick, and he just could never understand how someone would ever treat their child that way.

Now your father isn’t necessarily short but Joel was looming over him, eyes burning daggers in his direction as you both stood up to greet him. Joel’s hand envelopes your fathers in a grip that looks like it could break a bone and you give your father a curt nod and however much of a smile you can muster up with a quiet “hi dad.” only to be met with a grunt like you weren’t even worth sparing a few words to say hello to before muttering and going to sit on the couch. “It's alright Joel… he’s just like that baby... let it go.” you manage to press a kiss to his cheek to let him know you’re alright, it wasn’t like you were expecting the world's warmest greeting anyway. 

Joel tries to let it go. He really tries for you. But it is so hard being nice to someone who hurt the person you love. So he brings up Sarah, not out of spite really, he just loves to talk about his girl. “Comes up to visit almost every month, jobs got her real busy though,” he says, taking a sip of beer, eyes focussed on your father across the table. “Couldn't go without seein’ her.” Joel’s face immediately brightens up when he talks about Sarah, the pride he feels for his girl sparkling behind his eyes. 

Your father is not a man who is good at hiding his emotions, anger, and resentment showing clearly on his face. “‘M sure it’s nice to have a daughter who amounts to somethin’,” you feel your blood go cold for a moment, tears stinging in your eyes as you duck your head down to look at your plate very carefully. Joel’s hand is immediately squeezing yours, bringing you back down to earth, back to him. You take a deep breath to respond, but before you even get the chance, Joel’s voice is hurdling at your father. 

“Sure is. You’d understand what it would feel like if ya made any effort to be in her life.” The silence in the room is eerie. You cannot remember a single time in your life when your father didn’t have something to say, something to hurl at you in a fit of anger, only to claim it never happened after the fact. You feel Joel squeeze your hand again as your father shoves a forkful of food into his mouth, not making eye contact with either of you. Your mother just looks between Joel and your father silently, apparently still unwilling to stand up for you. You press your eyes shut for a moment at the absurdity of it all; the absurdity of bringing Joel to meet your parents, of him trying to defend you, at the idea that you had truly believed that your parents would have changed. You knew better than to hope for things like that. 

The rest of the dinner passes in relative silence, save for a few questions your mother asks Joel about his work and a minor argument that ensues because Joel mentions his love for the UT Longhorns after your father brings up his love for the Aggies. You roll your eyes at Joel when he throws up the Hook ‘Em hands before you get up to wash the dishes, only stopping when Joel tugs at your wrist. You look down at where he’s sitting, eyebrows raised at you because you're well aware that washing the dishes is his job “Baby it’s okay, I'll just do them today”

Joel just shakes his head and pulls at your wrist again, essentially pulling you back into your chair. “Don’t think so angel, you know that’s my job,” you giggle with a small nod of your head before the both of you turn to look at your father who is scoffing from his seat. “‘S there a problem?” 

Your father rolls his eyes at Joel, clearly still upset about how dinner went. “Just think you should let the woman do the woman’s job, ain't yours to do.” Your father barks that out with such ease that Joel thinks he sees red for a second. He grew up helping his mamma around the house when he was younger and became even more fond of cooking and cleaning when Sarah was born, so it is safe to say that he doesn’t agree with the idea that housework is a “woman's job.”

You know how Joel feels about this but your father is getting irritated again and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to take another argument between them, so you’re trying to grab the plates from Joel again. But stubborn as he is, Joel does not let up, especially if it means letting your father think that he’s right. “I don’t think so, sweet girl. Ain’t the 1950’s anymore, if you’re too pussy to wash a dish wouldn’t consider you a real man.” Your mouth falls open slightly, and you try to bite back your smile when your father huffs and gets up from the table muttering something about not knowing a real man if it bit him in the ass. 

You finish helping your mother put leftovers in the fridge, save for a bag filled to the brim with leftovers for Joel, and catch a glimpse of Joel smirking happily to himself while the sink runs hot over his hands. You sneak behind him and press a kiss on his shoulder blade, letting your hands snake around his waist. “I’ll be honest baby, kinda hot watching you tell him off like that..” You hear him huff out a laugh before he shuts the water off and spins you around in his arms, pressing a kiss to your lips before letting his mouth drop to your neck. You giggle as he nips at your skin lightly, but push him off gently after a moment. “They’re gonna see you, Mr. Miller, gonna get me in trouble.”

“Is that so?” his hands are on your waist, prints from the water on your shirt. He grins down at you, eyes glinting with mischief. “let ‘em see baby, not their little girl anymore, all mine now.” He presses another kiss to your neck, finding the spot right above your pulse point and drawing a small mewl from between your lips, before standing up straight and letting go of your waist, a grin plastered to his face. 

“You’re an absolute menace, you know that?” You squint your eyes at him, poking a finger into his chest, eliciting a laugh to tumble from his mouth. You give him a small kiss again and find yourself smiling into it. “‘M ready to go home now baby,” you murmur against the plush of his lips, wanting to feel his hands on your body again. Joel simply nods and grabs your purse for you while you say an awkward goodbye to your parents. You take your purse from his hands and open the door only to be met with the sight of rain. You were used to how quickly Austin would flood when a storm hit, you had grown up with it, but you hadn’t checked the weather and this was certainly dampening your plans to go home. 

You turn around to face Joel, eyebrows furrowed and before either of you can say anything your mother is swooping in. “Well, now I cannot send you two out in this weather! I have your old room set up still, and Joel can take the guest room!” Your eyes lock with Joel's, taking in the look of shock on his face. You should have assumed that your parents would be weird about letting Joel stay in the same room as you, despite living with him, but you were still caught off guard. 

You say your goodnights and thank yous, your father’s grip on Joel’s hand dangerously tight, before showing Joel up to the guest room giggling about having to be apart for the night. “Dunno how I’ll be able to sleep without you angel,” he groans sitting down on the old guest bed. 

You roll your eyes and kiss the scar on his nose “Sure you’ll be okay for one night cowboy, I’ll see you in the morning, ‘kay?” He just scrunches up his nose in response and plants a few more kisses on your lips before letting you walk out to your room. You can hear him exaggerate a sigh as you close the door and walk back to your old bedroom. You grin to yourself before walking into your room, taking in the sight of what used to be yours. Your hands skim over your dresser, the drawers mostly empty from when you packed in haste to move in with Joel, dried petals from the last bouquet of flowers he had gotten you still sitting in a small jewelry box. Pink sheets, pink pillows, and at least five stuffed animals still sit in their perfect setting on your bed, and a pang of guilt for leaving them bubbles up inside of you. You sigh and pull out an old shirt from the drawer and slip into it, foregoing pants and just staying in your panties. 

You spread out on the bed making futile attempts to fall asleep. It wasn’t like you needed Joel to be next to you, but you missed his hand draped around your waist and the way his body was a literal furnace to the point where you had to take the blankets off. Your mind cannot stop thinking about him. The way his hand was on the small of your back when you came into the house, the way he stood up for you when your father was speaking, the taste of his lips when he pulled you in for one last kiss before you left his room. You let your fingers trail down your body, sneaking into your panties and letting out a shaky sigh when you feel the slick pooling between your legs, eyes falling shut for a moment before situating a pillow between your legs. You press your face softly into one of the stuffed animals Joel had given you, the smell of him just barely lingering in it, and start to grind your hips down on the pillow. Your breath hitches when you feel the pressure on your clit through your panties, moans muffled by the bunny as you grind your hips down chasing your pleasure. Your eyes are still shut imagining Joel, lost in your pleasure until you hear a low whistle behind you, making your head whip around, your heart pounding a mile a minute. 

And there he is. Joel is leaning against your door, when he got in is beyond you, his eyes are hungry and locked in on you, eyebrows raising when you stop to turn around. “Why’re you stopping, baby? Go on, put on a show for me.” Your mouth opens to answer, but he’s cutting you off with a small tsk and a shake of his head “Nuh-uh. Don't get shy on me now, sweet thing, keep going.” His voice leaves no room for discussion, and his hands are on your waist pulling you flush with the pillow again. You whine when his hands leave your body, and try to turn around to grab at him. He pins your hips back down to the pillow, a low noise leaving his throat. “Like you were before, wanna see what you used to do when you miss me” 

A whimper leaves your mouth and you lay your head back down on the bed, pussy grinding on the pillow again. You move your hips back and forth, breathing becoming heavier as you angle your hips a bit higher and you bite back a whine as you clench around nothing “Joel please-” you plead, looking up at him over your shoulder with wide eyes,  “want you to touch me,” A small shudder movies through your body as you whine at him again. 

He just shakes his head at you, eyes not leaving your clothed cunt, “Not yet baby.” He brings his hands back to your waist and traces small circles into the skin just above your panties. 

  “but-” You keep grinding but throw a pout at him trying to get his decision to sway. 

He swats at your ass, not hard enough to leave a mark but enough to be a good warning “You arguing with me baby?” His eyebrows are raised, the look in his eyes not one that wants to deal with a brat tonight. 

You shake your head with a pitiful no sir and keep grinding on the pillow, your panties fully drenched by now. You feel your hips start to stutter as your climax catches up with you, a sheen of sweat covering your body. Your stomach is clenching and your breaths are ragged, “Joel- fuck gonna cum, oh god- fuck-” You babble at him, words muffled, legs trembling lightly, and eyes falling shut as you’re hit with your orgasm, face falling into the stuffed bunny again. 

You try to steady your breaths after coming down from your high, eyes still closed until you feel his hands sneak around your waist and under your shirt, grabbing your tits softly. “Fuck, you’re such a filthy girl, probably did this all the time when you thought about me? Desperate fucking thing.” You groan into his touch, and arch your back into him when he pulls you flush against his chest. He grabs at the hem of your shirt, before pulling it off and tossing it to one of the corners of the room, fingers playing with your sensitive nipples. You let out a squeak when he tugs at them before he lets go and presses his hand over your mouth. “Quiet. Gonna wake up your parents, or is that what you want, hmm?” His hand dips into your panties, rough fingers swirling over your clit “wanna get caught in the room you grew up in?” 

A whine leaves your mouth, muffled behind his hand, as you try to grind into his fingers. He brings his hand back to your nipple, flicking at the nub and making you jump. “Joel please- need it” You plead as he circles your clit. 

Joel pauses, drawing a pathetic whimper to leave your lips. “Came already and want another one? Greedy fucking thing” You nod at his words before yelping when he throws you down onto the bed and pulls you down to the edge of the bed by your ankles. He throws your legs over his shoulders and you buck your hips into the air, trying to catch his touch. He rests his head on the plush of your thigh, eyes on yours, waiting for you to ask for what you want. 

Your eyes are pleading with his, hoping that you can get out of having to beg by batting your lashes at him. “I’ll be so good for you, please.” your lip trembles a bit, hips still moving in the air, trying to get into his mouth. He relents and his lips press against your thighs, his stubble scratching at it gently, before pressing a kiss to your clit, making you jump softly. “Fuckk thank you.” Your head falls back as his tongue sweeps over your weeping cunt, his arm pinning your hips down to keep you from bucking into his face. 

His tongue dips into your slit, making your back arch off the bed as your hands fist in his hair. His lips wrap around your clit, and your hand clamps over your mouth to stop the obscene noises you were making from leaving it. His fingers tease your entrance before slipping into you and thrusting in and out at the same pace he was flicking his tongue. You feel your thighs start to tremble and clench around his head, your grip on his hair growing tighter as you feel your second orgasm hit you, red hot in the bottom of your spine, and up to the tingling in your fingers. Joel’s pace does not slow down as he coaxes you through it, hitting all the right spots. “Fuck look at her baby.” He says pulling his fingers out of you and spreading your slick over your pussy. “Fucking weeping for me. I’ll give her what she needs don't worry” 

His fingers press against your lips, and you let them into your mouth, tasting yourself off of him and groaning at the taste. He drags his spit-covered fingers down your chest, relishing in the fucked out look on your face. He takes off his jeans letting his cock spring free, dumb bastard going commando at your parents' house, and spits into his hand before fisting his cock in your line of sight. You whine at him, pouting your lips at him, cunt dripping down your thighs onto your bed. He chuckles at you and brings his hands to your waist, before slipping his cock into you, a hiss leaving your lips at the stretch. “Look at that sweet girl, taking me so well.” He moves so his cock is buried to the hilt in your cunt, the coarse hair that surrounds him pressing into your pelvis. 

You try to rock against him, to gain any friction. “Joel please move... please I want it” You plead with him, hands moving to wrap around his wrist. “Gonna be so good for you Daddy, please” And that does him in. He lets out a groan and thrusts into you with enough force to move your headboard. His cock is hitting you in just the right spot, filling you up almost too much. 

You feel yourself clench around him as his hand tightens around your waist, one of your legs wrapped around his back, pulling him in deeper. “Gonna fill you up so good angel,” he says as your pussy clenches around him like it was begging for his cum. “Make you all mine, show everyone who you belong to,” his thrusts are growing messier, and you can feel another orgasm building in the pit of your stomach, and it’s almost too much. Your toes curl and you meet his thrusts as you let out a pathetic slew of pleasepleasepleaseplease before you feel him cumming inside you with a soft pant of your name. You feel him pull out of you slowly, his cock replaced with his fingers. “Said I was gonna make you mine, gotta make sure it takes.” His fingers collect the cum that leaks out of you in the most obscene way and pushes it back into you, as a shaky breath leaves your lips at the depravity of his words. 

“Fuck thank you, baby,” You manage to get out after what feels like an eternity of recovering from your orgasm. Joel shoots you a sleepy grin, before wrapping his clean hand around yours and laying his head down on your chest, looking up at you with love in his eyes. 

“I should be thanking you, sweet girl. Did so fucking good for me” You grin and look down at him with sleepy eyes and run a hand through his hair. 

“You know you gotta get back to the guest room right?” You ponder, realizing the situation that you were in. The idea of your mother waking up to find you naked and stuffed full of Joel’s cum was horrifying. 

Joel just grins back up at you, pressing a kiss to the underside of your breast before pushing himself up off your bed and peeking at the window. “Dunno baby.. Rain stopped a while ago, I'm ready to just get outta here.” He raises his eyebrows at you, sliding back into his jeans as you drop your arm over your face with a dopey smile playing across your lips. 

“So long as you carry me to the truck, I'm game, baby” You bite your lip and smile up at him as he tosses your dress at you before he scoops you up and tromps down the stairs quietly and puts you into the passenger seat before getting in and pulling out of the driveway. “Thank you for being there tonight baby.. I love you.”

Joel just smiles at you, half asleep in his passenger’s seat, and runs a hand over your knee before grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to it. “Love you too angel. Don’t plan on ever making you come up here again though” You just giggle and lace your fingers through his, extremely content to just spend the rest of your days with Joel, not worried about your parents.

A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE; 1, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this. DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist. PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS.  Thank you for reading, and free Palestine

[kissforyouu]

forgive me now?

pairing : jungkook x sanrio girl!oc

genre : fluff , slight angst

warnings : arguing , mentions of sexual activities

a/n : FINALLY an update. 😓😓 unedited btw

this is a continuation from my previous text au btw!

you stand awkwardly in your friend's yard, clutching onto your little pink suitcase. your boyfriend said he would pick you up and that there was no need for you to call a cab home. usually, this would've been fine. much much much better than the cab even. but not now. the small argument you had with jungkook last night would definitely make things a little awkward between you guys. it was always like that. silent treatment until one of you gets impatient. that's usually jungkook. and it will be jungkook this time as well.

you kick some rocks on the ground while mina tells you and jihyo about some video games she's been playing. you mindlessly nod, not paying any attention to what she's really saying. you feel bad, but you're just not in the mood right now.

all you could think about was the argument. you were aware from the beginning about how overprotective jungkook actually was. you didn't mind it. not one bit. in addition to that, you always felt an underlying effect from whatever he did. it was arousing to say the least. but anyway. he called you a bitch. much worse, noh? how could he.

your eyes dart to the direction of the horn of the car you're so familiar with, emitting a soft sigh along the way. jungkook pulls up in his mercedes benz sl 63 amg, rolling down those expensive ass windows to look at you. he gets out of the car and tries to make an effort to carry your luggage but you don't let him, giving him the cold shoulder. jungkook grits his teeth, eyes scanning your figure up and down as you set your luggage in the back of his car then hug your girls goodbye.

once you were done with your goodbyes and back in front of his car, he tries to open the door for you but you ignore him once again, proceeding to open the backseat's door. you never did that. you were always his passenger princess. always.

the thought that he may have actually fucked up clouds your boyfriend's mind. jungkook closes the door with a thud, clearly frustrated. your friends weren't a helping hand either. instead, they were giving him mean glares. they never liked jungkook much. i mean, to a certain extent they did. but it wasn't enough.

the tall man sighs, his upper body fully turned to face you in the backseat. you weren't paying him any attention and instead, face buried in your phone when it should be in between his pecs, giving him the fattest hug ever while saying you missed him. but nah. eh, he really did fuck up.

jungkook glances at your friends a last time, the scowl on their faces never leaving. he scoffs, starting the engine of the car and beginning to drive out of your friends' sight.

jungkook looks at your reflection through the mirror, while doing that thing again. poking his cheek with his tongue. hot. you try your best not to look.

"you're so dramatic. talk to me."

suddenly, you break out of your stoic expression, jaw opening a little as you stared at your boyfriend in disbelief.

"me? jungkook, look at yourself! you said you would track down my phone to find my location if i didn't answer!"

"and you know damn well i would."

"i— well, that isn't the point here! the point is—"

"honey, we're past that, don't you think? just forget it." he grunts, completely discarding my opinion.

"no. calling me a bitch was too far. you don't get to disrespect me like that. who do you think you are?"

jungkook pauses for a few seconds, taking his time to think of what to reply with. he got silenced, for sure. then he sighs again, opening his mouth to speak again. no. ugh, fuck. you hate when he's like this. why is he acting like he's...tolerating you?

"get on the front." jungkook clicks his tongue, patting the empty passenger seat.

you so clearly refuse, stomping your heal on the carpet of the car as a sign of rejection. jungkook doesn't have any of that, immediately parking the car on the edge of the road. he gets out of his car and walks to the other side of the car, now in front of you. jungkook opens your door and pats his thigh—another signal for you to get on the front. you refuse again though, looking somewhere else.

"brat." he mumbles under his breathe. your boyfriend grabs your arm and pulls your body upwards. you wince a little, finding his touch a little too harsh.

"wait, shit, sorry." his thumb lightly brushes over the spot where he grabbed you gently, then sweetly giving it a few kisses after.

"get on the front seat, baby." his tone was sweet this time, like honey. he was speaking to you as if you were a flower who could get destroyed even from the slightest breeze.

and you just couldn't refuse. you listen to him this time instead of being whatever he calls you, a "brat". you sit on the passenger seat, crossing your legs over one another. but you still weren't looking at him. attitude much, huh?

jungkook groans at your behaviour. he loved it though. found it rather hot although sometimes it was a little too hard to deal with.

he suddenly grabs your jaw, his touch gentle but strong, tightly gripping your face but enough to not hurt you. he has your face turned to his side, forcing you to look at him.

"look at me at least."

you stay silent. your eyes drop down to his lap, legs spread and meaty thighs flexing.

"y/n."

one small look at his face, you break down to a whine. you pucker your lips into a pout, squeezing your eyes shut in irritation.

"i'm really sorry, my love. i admit that it was very wrong and inappropriate of me. i won't say that again, hm? i'll do whatever you want. just please talk to me."

"apologising isn't going to work."

"fine. i'll take you anywhere, buy whatever you want. hell, i'd buy you the entire world, you know that?"

your lips tremble and you grunt, "stop thinking that buying me everything would fix every single problem! it won't! why are you so good at finding solutions for every single problem that includes everything BUT yourself?! it's so frustrating, jungkook! yesterday, you could've literally just called me!—"

"you didn't answer! i called you so many fucking times, noh? did you answer once? nah."

"THAT doesn't matter! it was just...like, one day, jungkook!"

"yeah, and? who knows what would've happened? i was thinking of every single possibility. did you get killed or something? had me fucking stressing for nothing." jungkook rolls his eyes, rubbing his temple.

"it was for just one day! calm down!"

"no! didn't even tell me where the fuck you were going. had to drive upto your fucking house to find out."

you pause for a second, taking a deep breath, gritting your teeth, "jungkook. stop swearing at me."

jungkook scoffs, accepting it either way with a nod.

"let's stop arguing. hate fighting with you, y'know? let's go home, y/n. this is stupid."

"you're stupid!" you fight back.

"stop acting like a kid, damn. i said sorry. we're going home."

jungkook doesn't let you continue as he turns around and sits comfortably on his seat again, eyes facing the front.

"your house or my house?"

"your house." your voice came out in a small squeek.

a few minutes pass by, jungkook managed to sneak his hand up your thigh to grope the flesh. you let him. it was one of his silly habits. each time you're in the car with him, jungkook would either hold your hand or grope your thighs. and when you questioned it, he'd say "for emotional support." what emotional support? you always found it funny. but cute though. sometimes, he'd get sneaky and slowly slide his hand downwards, little by little, and end up cupping your pussy. that itself was enough to make you go crazy. he'd start by slowly rubbing your clit through your panties, then sneakily make his way inside :) .

by now, you both had reached his house. jungkook parked his car in his garage and entered his room, who was laying on his comfy ass bed that was big enough for 5 people.

he lays down with you, big arms engulfing your smaller body. you let him, you're past the argument now. jungkook snuggles into your body, cheek smushed against your breast. his body temperature was hot, warming you up instantly.

"we good now?"

"mhm."

"talk more, baby. i want to hear you. what did you do yesterday? ate well?"

your face melts down at your boyfriend's words. cute man. cuuuuteeee. myy man. how could you ever hate him? :< . you spent the rest of the cuddling and jungkook trying to make it upto you. he gave you foot massages, back massages, made you food, watched your favourite show with you (which you've made him rewatch about 10 times already), ate you out good, ran you a bath, another foot massage, online shopped with you which resulted in him buying you goodies worth 500$ and more, head massage, fucked you good, rubbed your body to sleep and so on 😊.

maybe arguing isn't THAT bad after all.

taglist :

@fungie2332 @wintertxt @wheexine @hyunjinswifeee @ohsweetmimosa @canyon-txt @kooreo @rrosiitas @goldenjeonkoo

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Insatiable

Part 3/Finale to Cravings and Crash

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Summary: Frankie and reader spend some time apart before realizing that’s actually really stupid—and solid communication happens for once :) 

Notes: it’s finally HERE! Thank you all so much again for your words of praise and keeping with these two absolute idiots in love. Honestly intended the first one to just be a one-off drabble throw away thought, but I’m glad everyone enjoyed it so much to ask for more! I’m spitting this out earlier than expected. Don’t know if I’ve done them reasonable justice but this is what I’ve got—hope you like it!

Warnings: unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampies, mentions of m oral, pussy eating king returns, cum eating, missionary, doggy, cowgirl, overstimulation, fingering, squirting, bit of possessive and jealous Frankie, mentions of drug use, drugs present, language

18+ ONLY

- - - - 

You had cried when you got in your car. And again when you went to your cousin’s house to crash until you signed your new lease. And then again every night for a week straight.

You had NEVER cried this hard over a boy before.

Except this wasn't some boy—this was Frankie. The guy who comforted you through all your dates that stood you up, and shitty boyfriends, albeit few, that left you feeling less than worthwhile. The same Frankie who stood around you like a guard dog when you went drinking together so no one would even think to slip something in your cup, but who YOU have to comfort during horror movies because he's a big scared kitten. Who lets you sleep on his shoulder for five hours in the car no matter how uncomfortable it was for him, never once moving, but still ate the food you didn't like off your plate "because he's a garbage dump who'd eat anything, even mold." 

The first guy to tell you that you were beautiful when you weren't even trying to impress him. Who brings a hair tie with him when you go to eat because you always forget yours and get your hair caught in your fork. Who pushed you to take charge of your life and break up with your loser first love, and it was the hardest and best decision you could have ever made.

And you know what? The ONLY guy who made you cum 9 fucking times the FIRST time he went down on you.

You called Santi that night because you needed to let loose, and the only other person you trusted to hold you up outside of Frankie was Pope.

“So how is he?” Santi asked, as you immediately double fisted your first two shots. 

"I don't wanna talk about him tonight."

Santi nods, eyes widening as you don’t even resist the bitter taste going down your throat. He holds his finger up towards the waitress to order 4 more glasses.

You really didn't want to think about Frankie. The more you thought about him, the more confused you felt, and you couldn't afford to be confused about your purpose in his life right now. You knew battling addiction isn’t a linear healing process. That it would get worse before it got better at times. You're his friend. You're helping him. That's it. 

Frankie spent a whole year being physically intimate with you, but never once asked or made a move for anything more emotionally. So why let yourself get carried away even thinking about something more?

To even consider if you wanted more...

You snatch the shot glass out of Santi's hand right before he was about to sip it and catapulted it down your throat, the burning sensation taking your mind out of the gutter.

Fuck Frankie for not keeping his shit together. Fuck him for being hot and cold. Fuck him for using you when that's exactly what you’re here for.

It's much easier to keep it all that way. Easy to encourage him with sex to avoid overthinking his intentions. Easier to constantly verbalize it, knowing he won’t deny it, as a means of reassurance to yourself. 

But absolutely fucking HELL he’s being so difficult lately. The sex—wasn’t just good. It was fucking phenomenal. you could physically see how much better he was just moments afterwards, even if you were blacking out and falling asleep not too long after. He was so hungry for it too, why deny? But he’d been holding back too much now—getting too tense, crashing, then stressed again. You needed to get things back on schedule with him so he’d be happy again.

And gentle, nurturing, innocent, sober you just wasn't doing the trick for him anymore.

You barely hear Santi over the pounding in your head: "When we was the last time you got laid? You need a distraction from your Fix-a-Fish hobby."

You gulp down the last of the vodka on the table, suppressing a slight burp.

"I'm 'bout to do both tonight."

That was 4 weeks ago. You didn’t achieve either that night.

Fish didn't seem too upset when you left, ultimately making the choice much easier. You looked so fucking stupid walking in there, basically demanding sex from him when he made it clear all year that you were only there for HIM and not the other way around. He didn’t want you like that. 

Good. Makes staying friends that much easier.

Or it did, for a little while. 

You couldn’t get over the way he made you feel when all was well—when he’d serenade you so easily in affection like Querida, Carino, Hermosa, and you could barely contain the butterflies in your stomach each time. You had never once heard him even refer to his dates or ex girlfriends in the same manner. It was both confusing and arousing. He treated you like a best friend some times, but adored you like a lover more. 

Hadn’t the man heard of friendship boundaries? Aside from the fact he made you orgasm every minute of the day, what was Frankie like as a lover? What more could he possibly do to cross that line?

Who the hell treats their friend like that?

That last month, however, felt more realistic. Grounded in the truth of your relation. You didn’t realize how much he had gotten to you with sweet words first that made the change in his attitude so unbearable. 

You wanted to go back to being selfish with his unbridled love.

You hadn’t gotten off in over a week, a new record. But as you lay in bed, conjuring any and all pornos, audio eroticas, pillows, aching fingers, even the dusty vibrator still wrapped in its new plastic, nothing was getting you to that same addictive feeling that Frankie gave you every single day.

You should have called him to return his shirt you had accidentally packed in your bag in a haste to get out of there. But it still smelled like him. You felt perverted getting wet just by holding it in your hands, but it was doing the trick, and finally you could touch yourself without additional lubricant assistance.

All the memories that tumbled from then on only made the ache between your legs worse: The first night, Frankie between your legs, begging you to let go so he could force more orgasms from your shaking body. “Doing s’good for me, cariño. Give me more, fucking starving” ; when he held you in his lap as you grind down on his bulge, his head buried under his shirt that you were wearing as his lapped at your nipples, “Don’t you dare hold back those beautiful moans, wanna hear you singing when I’m devouring you”; when he’d come home from work and didn’t say a word, just grabbed your wrist and lead you to his bedroom, lied on the bed, slapped your ass a few times to get you to straddle him higher, higher, until you were right over his lips. He didn’t even wait for your hesitation, immediately bringing your hips down and crashing his lips on your pussy, shaking his head like a mad scientist at work, hell bent on discovering what makes you cry faster.

You pulled your fingers away from your slick cunt. No amount of memory would compare to the real thing—and it wasn’t all the acts that you needed, but the intimacy, the familiarity that came from Frankie—THAT’S what always sent you over the edge.

It scared you.

Santi was half right. You did need to get laid. Needed someone who wasn’t Frankie to remind you that you don’t rely on him for some shit like getting off (although you had developed a keen preference by now). You needed a new hobby that wasn’t thinking about Frankie all the time. YOU needed a distraction.

He was half wrong, however, because you knew very well that you’d be drowning in lame date after lame lay a million times before you got over the addictive feeling of being around Fish this past year.

It never felt like a chore. Well, obviously, you were getting ate out like a Sunday brunch. But it was everything else that made you want to keep staying around, even after he maybe didn’t need you anymore.

You realized then that leaving was the best for you and him. You had somehow managed to score a  date tonight, the first one in over a year, with a James. Or Jonathan. Or Jimmy. Something J. I think.

I’m excited. I’m going on a date. I’m going to have fun. I’m excited. Im going on a date. Im going to have fun.

You didn’t even have the care to shave tonight before you begrudgingly left for dinner and a movie.

-

He couldn't say it then. Frankie remembered so vividly the image that he wishes he could forget: you standing there, so meek and vulnerable, spilling your tears as you tried to level your emotions with your feelings and confront the fucked up situation he put you in. Maybe if you had screamed, yelled at him and cussed him out for being such a dick, then he could have told you how he truly felt.

He was always better at being shouted at by others from being in the service. The guys would let their tempers soar and just shout, honesty tumbling through like a flood, and then everything would be out on the table, and shit would get DONE.

The apartment is unforgivably quiet and cold.

He's noticing little things you left behind: your nice moisturizer, expensive shampoo, a paper towel holder. He thinks you’re mocking him by leaving bits of you around his place, so he collects them in a bin and waits for you to come retrieve them. But you don't contact him for the first week.

He starts to think maybe you left those things for him. You bought all these things while you were here, forcing him to use them with you:

"Your face is as dry as a desert; you need moisturizer, not body lotion.”

"You can't use a 4 in one hair and body wash!"

"Who the fuck doesn't have a holder for their paper towels?"

It wasn't all just sex when you were here. He remembered coming in to the bathroom when your feet were soaking in the tub, and you explained you were rubbing your calluses off your feet. He joined you, sweats pulled up above his knee as you held him down to get the stone on his crusty feet, the whole time laughing and squirming because it tickled too much. He fell on his ass in the tub desperate to escape your strangely strong grip around his ankle, getting his clothes all wet.

And despite how well he had known you even before your arrangement, he continued to learn new things about you. Like you took night showers, and could only go to bed with your hair in braid. He'd come to see you, agitated in his room all morning, waiting for you to finally wake up so he could distract his craving. He’d walk into the kitchen where you were already cooking him breakfast, slip his arms around your hip, and pull your braids out lovingly to smell scent of your shampoo waft off in waves, closing his eyes and feeling his jitters dissipate, instantly calming him like no other remedy.

Found it funny that you couldn’t use a regular spoon for cereal, always replacing it with a tea spoon because the other ones are “too big” for your mouth to fully close around. A sentiment he suspected to be a load of BS when you had no problem swallowing his cock whole and then gulping down his cum without spilling a drop.

Or when you got red sauce all over the laundry and had to borrow Frankie's shirt to sleep in. He liked that you smelled like him, that it draped over you so pretty, and you'd never wear pants underneath. He'd put you in his lap and make you hold the shirt up with your teeth, showing off your perky tits. His thumb circled your hip bone, large hand clasping your waist to keep you upright while he'd kiss your nipples, and then make you both look down and watch as he rubbed his fingers through your folds, sucking the juices off as he finger fucked you over top him.

He can't help but feel his twitch of his cock stir in his pants at the thought.

Ok. Maybe the sexual parts were a big part—how could they not be? That’s all it was, at first. And he was able to pretend like it was too. But the more time he spent with you. The more time he got to really know you, live with you, breathe you in, unravel you and bind him to you so that you had no sanctuary untouched by him, it was all over before it began. 

He sat down with Pope a week after you left: 

“You look like shit.”

Frankie grumbled, shrugging it off. He hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten like he used to when you were around. His beard was growing in more patchy and less manicured than before.

“Have you talked to her since?”

“Don’t wanna talk about her tonight.”

Jesus, a broken record with these two, Santi thought. But he knew Fish much better, knew the exact reason why he called him out instead of all the boys together is precisely because he needed to get this off his chest. “She thought you were stressed, needed time. Clearly she was right.”

Frankie’s jaw clenched, teeth grinding so hard that he could form diamonds.

Santi cleared his throat, twirling the ice in his glass casually. “Course, I didn’t tell her you’re head over heels in love with her. Why didn’t you?”

He doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t think he could again. “Imagine how that would have gone? She was crying right there. Right in front of me, BECAUSE of me, after I’d treated her like shit for weeks until her breaking point. Would have given her some fucked up idea that that was my expression of loving her. If I’d said it then, she would never have believed me. Would have ruined everything. Including our friendship.” He pauses, staring down at his rough hands. “She deserves better,” he said weakly, more to convince himself than anyone else.

Santi leans back against the booth. He’d heard the Frankie pity train before, but this was much lower than usual. “And friendship is still good enough for you?”

“I’ll take whatever she’ll give me at this point. I can’t lose her.” 

“You can’t? Or don’t want to?”

Frankie thought about that for a while. He had realized too late he didn’t actually still need you. He hadn’t really “craved” cocaine like before. He no longer needed you tending to his every reaction, overly serving his necessities and desires, always a few steps away to brighten his smile, or warm the house with your laughter, your cooking, your terrible taste in movies, all for the sake of keeping him sane and sober.

But damn it all, he still wanted you.

Frankie goes 4 weeks of the hardest withdrawal of his life. You were right, he was getting better at not thinking about cocaine. But without you here, he's more agitated than before. It's not that he craves it now, but rather craves a substitute to get him through your absence.

He's itching for his phone, for the number of his dealer he should have blocked and deleted so long ago.

He shouldn't. It would devastate you. You'd think it's your fault because you weren't here to distract him, only making the whole lie he’s been telling himself that you could still be just friends more abundantly evident. Pushing that useless tale even further, rooting it in your mind.

 In truth, it is your fault that his entire happiness is now emotionally and physically tied to you, but he can't really blame you for leaving him since he's the big idiot. He had the entire year to make it right, damned be the consequences of your possible rejection.

He’s clenching his fist at his sides, debating whether to text his dealer. He doesn't even want that shit, at least not the way before. He just wants a distraction from the real aches that you've left behind.

And if he did... wouldn't you come back to him to make it right?

You’re so clear in his mind that doesn't even struggle, doesn't hesitate as he pays the money and carries the little pouch in his hands. He gets back to his apartment with vigorous haste, slamming the door behind him, and sits it on the coffee table, staring.

Even if you don't come back to him, getting just a little bit high would help take his mind off it all. He'd be able to stop thinking about you, even for just the night. Just to get some sleep.

Just to stop feeling.

He shakily tries to undo the tightly sealed bag, but few particle traces catch in his finger tips from outside the plastic, and he instantly wafts the infinitesimal scent of it on his finger tips. He stops, feeling something he's never felt before when staring down at the thing thats caused him so much trouble in his life:

Disgust.

-

You considered calling Frankie a million times, but how soon was too soon? Would he think you were just desperate to get ate out again? Would he deny you the second you wanted to see him, thinking it was just a booty call again? You had made some stupid choices, like going on a shitty date with a guy you weren’t even interested in, just to get over Frankie, so that you could avoid thinking about how badly you had shattered your friendship.

And going right back to being his friend, which included sharing one of your reckless decisions you make on your own, was one of them. He’d be interested in hearing about it, right?

You dial him up quickly.

You rock back and forth on your heels, unable to sit still.

The phone rings out to voicemail.

He’s never missed a phone call from you. Not even at 2am on a work night. He's never on his phone, and yet still always managed to answer your calls even if it’s on the last ring.

He's just avoiding you again. It's fine. Santi said he'll get over it eventually. That you’ve done enough worrying for him, and need to take care of yourself for a change.

You glance at the key he gave back to you, and not even a moment later, are soon slipping on shoes and heading out the door with it in hand.

-

You unlock the door and slowly walk in to the familiar layout of Frankie's apartment. It's entirely dark, curtains drawn save for a small crack in the shades. You call out his name tentatively, the eeriness of the place making you anxious. When you see the bathroom light on and door slightly ajar, hearing the rushing sink water running, you sigh relief.

Thank God.

You gently push open the door. "Fish?" You see him, heart skipping a beat at how much thinner, paler he looked now than before, eyes sunk from lack of sleep.

His eyes light up when he sees you, and your heart breaks at how different he looks but STILL has the brightest, softest, loving smile at you.

Your eyes drift down, smile fading, horror quickly overtaking your face at the unopened baggie of white powder sitting at the sink. And his face drops at the realization.

You take one step back, unable to close the gape in your lips, petrified. "Fish—I—holy fuck..."

You had never seen him doing it, never seen him freshly blown high from it. The closest you ever got was what the boys would tell you, or seeing the long aftermath of his crash. They were always first on the scene and quite frankly, ensured you were never the one to find in him these states. You had never been able to mentally prepare to have to handle it now.

"No—no no no! It's not, I didn’t, I didn't! Look—ok it looks like I did but I swear I haven't touched it. It’s still sealed! I’m. I'm dumping it down the toilet."

You don't trust his word, seeing as the bag is here, albeit fully wrapped up, seal unbroken like he said. But here, nonetheless. With him. In front of you with no denial that it was his. 

He gets on his knees and wraps his arms around your waist. “Please don’t leave me. I didn’t want you to leave the first time…”

“And it’s taking you being high right now to admit that?!”

I’m not high, seriously. Check me.” You peer down closer, and aside from his rampant heart beating against your leg and big round eyes, there’s no trace of smell or lingering white powder anywhere on him. But you’re hesitant.

“I bought it but then realized It wasn’t what I really wanted…”

He licks his lips quickly, his brown eyes pleading up to you, biceps flexing against your ribcage.

Your chest is pounding, the encasing feeling of Frankie refusing to let you back away making you feel like a trapped rabbit. 

“Please believe me,” he breathes.

"Your eyes are dilated as fuck Frankie!"

"That's because of you!"

You both hold your breath, a pregnant silence ringing in the air.

“I—I’m. Um. I meant." His eyes trail off sheepishly as a warm blush takes over his face. 

He stands up, rubbing the back of his head. He can tell you’re patiently waiting for him to get over his blubbering awkwardness so he can explain properly. To find the words he’s combing his brain for. And find them he did: 

"I miss you, Querida.”

He breathes slowly, time catching up and suddenly stopping. 

You glance toward the bag, still fearful that he had gotten to this point while you were gone. “Frankie. I’m—I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. For your needs—“

“I don’t need you to fix me. I haven’t craved that shit for a while, still don’t even now. I just wanted you here with me.” He snatches the baggie and chucks it in the toilet, immediately flushing it.

You want to say that might not be great for the plumbing, but Frankie’s hands are on yours, holding them securely to his chest. “I just want you. I should have said it before you walked away.  Should’ve said it a year ago, when I knew I didn’t want to pretend this was just some—some drug replacement.” He goes quieter. “I didn’t want this to be nothing. I thought when we had sex, maybe you’d feel the same, but you didn’t—”

“I was afraid about what would happen to you If our dynamic changed, Fish. I was worried it was just another high. So I tried to make things go back to how they were since it seemed to be working so well for you before,” you rambled. He can see the shininess in your eyes, feel how your body is no longer resisting him and instead, cradling his neck with affection, empathy, nurture, all the things he’d been depraved of for weeks. “But then it made everything worse and I didn’t know what to do—“

He cut you off, as if suddenly things didn’t line up. ”Why did you come back?"

You lick your lips, eyes unable to meet his. “Well I called, and you didn't answer. And I wanted to check up on you, and tell you... um—I mean I always tell you about… I went on a date, my first one in over a year."

Frankie's eyes blankly drift lower, down to your feet, his arms retreating. He takes an awkward step back. "How... how did it go?" He asks slowly, feeling the distance between the two of you growing again.

You throw your hands up in the air, unable to express yourself. “He was…Handsome. Funny. Charming. Paid for me, made me feel pretty, treated me real good—“

He nodded, unable to bring his eyes anywhere else but back to the back on the sink as he listened. “S’good. That’s what you deserve,” he says, jaw tensing.

“Yeah. Yeah it is what I deserve.” You pause, here goes everything. “Except the whole time, I hated the fact that he was nothing like you." 

Frankie’s attention darts back to you as you cup his scruffy face in your hands. "You're irritable, and sassy, and needy and clingy, and you pout when you don't get what you want. And you don't listen to me or stop when I tell you to stop—“

A roasting fest? Now?? “OK, That's, Jesus, I get it—“

"And I love all those things about you.” You hold his gaze, feeling his breath seize in his chest. “And I miss being here. I miss waking up with you every morning, and your smug face being the last I see before I go to sleep. And it took me until after I left to realize how I actually felt about you. This whole year with you has felt like this perfect—“

"High?"

Your brows furrow shyly. “I didn’t want to put it that way, for obvious reasons. But fuck it. Yes. I don’t—I don’t wanna let that go.”

His fingers tense around your waist, almost begging you to say it, spill it out for him and don’t hold back ever again. 

“You got me addicted to you, Francisco."

You aren't aware of how fast he moves, his hands grabbing your neck as he smashes his lips to yours. Your heart is beating out of your chest when he sucks every breath from you, barely separating from your lips to utter "I've waited—so long—for you—“ He hoists you up on his waist and brushes out of the bathroom with your legs wrapped securely around him, his kiss hot and full of passion the entire time. "Wanted you since you first let me have a taste of you.” He slams you on the bed, the familiarity of you two being in this exact situation settles on you. “Wanted you to want me. Want more.”

He continues to engulf your lips with his, his moans vibrating against your tongue. "I shouldn’t—“ he hastily bites your lip with a grunt “—shouldn't have pushed you away—treated you so bad.” He pauses his assault. “I was so scared you didn't want me like that. Couldn't handle pretending I could be okay with it.”

You place your hands on his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart matching yours. "Frankie, I want you."

"Good," he smiles, leaning up to remove his shirt over his shoulders. You whine at the sight. Draping himself over you, his lips never leave your body as he kisses down your chest then back to your lips. You’re unable to bring yourself to action as his body dictates both of your moves.

You feel his bulge pressing painfully against your core, eliciting an obscene moan from your throat. "Frankie—Let me take care—“

"No. Fuck no. I'm taking care of you tonight. And tomorrow, and every fuckin’ day after," he growls.

He kisses you once again but then slowly backs away. "Um, if... if you want that."

He feels your hand tangle in the hair behind his neck as you bring his face back to yours, teeth clashing for dominance. "I want it," you whisper, sucking his lower lip and biting it possessively.

His jaw hitches. “Prove it."

You unbutton your pants, taking his large hand and guiding it down your panties in haste. His digits make contact between your folds, the two of you sighing.

"Oh f-fuck. You want this, don't you?"

"Want you so bad, Frankie. It fucking hurts.”

His fingers dont leave your dripping cunt, spreading your slick around your swollen clit. His other rips your string underwear off with incredible strength. He then helps push your shirt over your head, and you immediately unclasp your bra. Frankie growls lowly at the sight of your perky breasts bouncing from their release. "Fuck, I missed these.” His mouth wraps around as much fat of your tit he could before biting, making you lurch. 

“I—I’m not gonna be slow—I wanted to—“

"Jesus Fish, I don’t care, just take me!"

He plunges two of his thick digits into your soaking heat, making your back arch off the bed. He takes the opportunity to suck a nipple back into his mouth, half his body hovering over you to keep your form perfectly positioned between his mouth and fingers. They teasingly thrust in and out slowly from your hole, intentionally dragging out his torture against you. "So mean to me, baby." His teeth nip at your nipple with a smug grin. "Takin’ my sweet little pussy away from me like that. I barely touched you and you're absolutely soaked. Were you wet on your way here?"

"Frankie I haven't... haven't been able to get off in weeks."

"How long?"

You moan out loud, eyes rolling back as your brain turns to mush. Your hand tries to guide his wrist faster but he slaps it away, continuing his teasing ministrations.

"Answer me!"

"Since the last time you touched me!" You cry.

He haults his movements. 

The girl who bragged about cumming an average of 6 times a day just grinding on a pillow, now telling him she hasn't been able to orgasm in a month, because of him.

Ohhhhhhh fuuuuccccckkkkkfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. “That why you went on your little date, huh?"

You nod shamefully.

"Did you fuck him?"

You whine, eyes burrowing in confusion that he still expected you have coherent thoughts while he had you in this compromising position, teetering on the brink of your much needed orgasm.

"Your date.” He repeats, his wrist slowing down entirely. “Did. You. Fuck. Him."

“No—no! I didn’t even let him kiss me goodnight. Couldn't even get wet for him, that's how bad—Frankie, fuck! please!—bad you've got me fucked up."

He speeds up his hands, satisfied with your confessions. They are thrusting perfectly in and out at record speeds as his jaw clenched around your tit, watching your eyes roll back as your first orgasm in WEEKS overwhelms you fast. You’re shaking violently, legs desperate to close but Frankie pries them open with his strong hand, continuing to dominate your cunt with his incessant fingers.

You feel something else coming as he continues to ram his wrist against you, fingers digging so deep, curling so effortlessly that you can’t stop the gush of liquid squirting out of you. “Oh shit, oh fuckfuckFUCK that’s it! That’s my girl, holy fuck yeah—yeah keep going, Cariño, so fucking good.” He continues to finger fuck you repeatedly, working you through it as your pussy continues to contract and release your spend.

You hardly have time to process your embarrassment as he's shifting below your hips, throwing your thighs over shoulder and giving your soaked pussy a longing look. Your clit twitches excitedly. Cool air is blown on it, making you fist his hair harder. He presses his large nose into you, inhaling your scent like bloodhound, growling like a man possessed at the sticky coating. "I fucking missed you, Hermosa," he groans, and his mouth latched right on to your pulsing cunt. You gasp, hands fisting his hair as he rolls your overstimulated clit with his tongue, jaw opening wide to practically swallow your pussy whole, sucking away everything you're giving him.

Whether he was talking to you or your pussy, it didn’t really matter to you. All you could process was the rough feeling of his fat tongue and scruffy face rubbing perfectly between your legs as Frankie got reacquainted with his former addiction. "FrankieFrankieFranke-ohFUCK!"

You can’t stop him, can’t even warn him as the overstimulation send you into a fit of gasps, cumming again, legs squeezing his head as painful pleasure courses through you. His upper back is littered in your scratches, the red marks raising his skin like tiger stripes.

You're struggling to catch your breath with ragged moans. He slows his licks to draw it out, letting your spasms pass. His sinful, lidded eyes have never left your face, absorbing every reaction from you, committing it to memory.

"You really have neglected this poor pussy," he teases, kissing your clit as his fingers begin to spread your glistening folds once again.

You can only nod, arms covering your face as he starts to rub the pad of his thumb on your swollen nub again. “It’s—not as good—unless it’s you.”

He grits his teeth in satisfaction. “S’okay. M’ gonna take care of you now. Gonna fuck you real soon."

You whine when he pushes his fingers back in to your tight heat.

"And then, when I’m done fucking you—We're gonna fuck again," he laughs.

You’re a bit frightened with how he’s looking at you: like he’s fucking possessed by a hungry, malicious demon.

He makes you cum on his fingers again, then his lips, then both at once. He’s pinning you down so harshly, you have no choice but to take the endless barrage of orgasms he’s forcing from you, almost as if he’s trying to make up for the time you two have been apart. 

By the time his tastebuds are content, he brings himself back up to you, messily kissing your lips so you taste yourself, his beard and stache now soaked in your cum and rubbing along your chin.

You gasp when you feel his hard cock sliding along your folds. He rolls his hips against you, your copious slick letting him glide effortlessly, tip nudging your clit.

“Frankie,” you warn, unable to handle his teasing now.

He grabs the base of his dick. “Beg. Beg me for it,” He commands with a godly voice you’d never heard him use before. He slaps the underside of his throbbing member repeatedly against your pussy with a taptaptaptap. “Tell me you want it.”

You don’t care for the fat tears spilling down your cheeks as you whine like a bitch in heat. “Fuckyou, Frankie,” you seethe, anger building with your desperation. “I fucking want it, want it so bad, want you to ruin me, please, Fish, fucking please put it in already!”

He grins, big and sadistic as he watches your face contort with the first push of his tip into your wetness. “Oh F—“ he breathes, eyes closing as your tight walls do their best to accomodate his size.

Your eyesight is blurry, waves of pleasure rolling throughout your entire body, delirious as he bottoms out. Where he belongs. Where he’s always meant to be.

He presses his forehead to you as his hips start rutting.

He’s hardly fucked you for a few seconds, but the pressure building inside of you, desperate for this moment again after months, isn’t giving you a choice to savor it. “Fish—fuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK! ‘M not gonna last!"

He growls excitedly, driving his cock more harshly into you, reaching that special spot he’s decided is only his to abuse. “It’s okay, babygirl. You cum for me. You're always so good at it."

And you are, you really are. “OH FUCK FRANKIE!” You scream. Your body agreeing with him so much that your abrupt orgasm squeezes around him so hard, his movements stop altogether.

“Oh shit—“ he hisses, your pussy greedily milking the cum right out of him. He only pauses for a moment, shaking over you for a moment as his first orgasm subsides before his hips are moving of their own accord, his cum forced out with each thrust.

“Keep goin’, pretty thing. Give me more,” he grunts. 

You nod deliriously, eyes rolled to the back of your skull as he pounds your battered puussy.

He pulls out, the sudden withdrawal making you whine with emptiness. He sinks to his knees again, yanking your knees up to your chest. Your pussy twitches, his cum spilling out and sinking down your ass.

He lets out of primal groan from the back of his throat before smashing his mouth on your cunt, sucking your clit and tongue fucking your hole like a cream filled pastry. You feel the descending bob of his Adam’s apple against your rear as he swallows the mixture of your cum, drinking it like liquid life from the source. “We taste—so—fucking—good, Princesa,” he taunts, tongue lapping your little clit in quick succession before shaking his head back and forth aggressively against your mound, smearing the obscene mixture across your folds and making a mess.

Oh fuck, he’s so gone.

He quickly gets on his knees, turning you over on your stomach like you weigh nothing. His hands grip around your hips, bringing them flush against his crotch again as you arch your back for him. He puts his palm on the small of your back, keeping you right there, pressed tight against him as his cock slides back into your eager and cum coated cunt.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans, setting a faster pace this time. You hadn't realized just how much Frankie was holding back the first time you had sex. He leans over your body, hands splayed past your shoulders, fisting the bed as he rails you deep, his thighs crashing against you with harsh slaps. Your temple lands against his cheek, meeting eye contact. He smiles, breath caught in his throat like running a mile at your fucked out expression. 

He continues to fuck you like an animal. A soft hand grips your chin lovingly, tilting your head further back so his lips meet yours with each punishing grind. You’re surprised by how much you love the hold he has on you, willingly submitting to him without being told. Drunk on each other’s lust.

You suck greedily around his tongue, hand reaching behind the two of you to play with his soft brown curls, refusing to let him leave your mouth. He stutters with a few more thrusts before halting, eyes scrunched closed. “AUUGHHH—haaaahh!” You feel the twitch of him inside you, draining his balls some more of his plentiful seed. 

“Fuck, fuck I love it when you cum inside me!” You confess. The action makes you fall forward, mouth burying into his pillows as you muffle your own cry of your release again.

He pulls out of you and flops to the bed. You think maybe he is done, after having cum twice now, bur Frankie is quick to bring you to straddle him, his dick never once softening as it presses incessantly to your entrance again. He licks his lips, watching his cum spill down your thighs, right to his creamy cock that refuses to fully part from you. 

“Frankie,” you moan, unsure if you can take him again.

“Want you just like this. Ride me,” he breathes. He’s covered in sweat, out of breath and shaking with a mix of exhaustion and adrenaline if it were possible. His hands gently wrap around your waist as he guides you. Eyes so lidded, transfixed on the area where your mound slowly swallows him again.

You’re nodding, body taking over all actions, completely starved for the man under you. 

He leans up to get a good look at you, taking it slow, burning this in head to remember.

"Thought about you... everyday.” He whispers, mouth parted in lust, gliding your hips along with steady rolls. “Couldn't sleep."

His hands down along the curve of your ass, to your thighs spread out over him, before rubbing up the length of your back, holding you as close to him as he can possibly bring you, your tits pressing against his chest. He struggles to breathe evenly as your creamy pussy continues to tighten around him each time he breaches you, the two of you moaning softly into each others’ open mouths. He occasionally catches your lips, slotting perfectly as you grind against him.

His mouth finds its way back down to your pebbled nipple, biting gently before kissing it better. He brings his face back to yours. “So perfect for me,” he whispers.

You start grinding on him more fervently, lifting yourself on your knees ever slightly and baring down on him. He grits his teeth, sinking further down into the bed, eyes never leaving you as his digs his nails into the meat of your hips, forcing you to bounce harder. 

“That’s it, baby. Ride me just like that. MY girl, my beautiful girl.”

You bite your lips, feelings your clit catch on his public hairs. The sloppy squelching of his cum being driven out of your heat by his thick cock is no match to the heavenly sounds you were making atop him. The vein in his neck strains like he’s suffocating himself from air, refusing to slow down, to take a break, to let go for even just a moment.

“More. Give me more,” you moan, confidence soaring as you feel him begin to meet your hips with every thrust. “I want all of you, Frankie.”

He shouts out, lifting you up, his feet digging into mattress as he fucks you from below. “Fuck, fuck!”

You want to throw your head back, ride out this high, but the dangerous allure of him watching you brings your focus down to him, watching the way the two of you are getting off to the other falling apart.

“Just like this. You n’ me. Want it just like this. Forever.” He mumbles repeatedly, ragged pants uneven as he fills you the way you had been unknowingly wanting for months.  

You feel the build of your umpteenth orgasm building in your lower tummy. “Frankie-F-Franke! I’m—I’m gonna—“

“Do it, Querida, do it f-for me.” He thinks he can starve off the low build of his third orgasm of the night, just enough to make you cum for him once more.

You feel the heavy knot in your stomach snap. With absolutely no hesitation, no doubt behind your word, you cry out, “I love you!” as you cum harder than any time before.

Lifting you both practically off the bed, Frankie’s hips seize, pressed so tightly against yours there was no room between you. He shouts loudly, animalistic, snarling with his teeth baring at you and 0 control left in him, immediately emptying his load deep inside with each heavy pulse of his cock against your cervix, painting your walls white with the last of his cum that his balls could give you.

You collapse on top of him, the two of you sucking  air like you were underwater for years. Neither of you say anything, covered in sweat and cum, but finally being able to relax from the pent up release that’s been building there far longer than it ever should have been.

His hand rests against your lower back, somehow pressing your naked body closer to his. 

“I love you,” you whisper again to his collarbone. He brings your eyes to his, and this time he knows you mean it.

-

Frankie wakes to a cold bed.

His arm reaches out subconsciously for your body, but only feels cool empty sheets at his side. His eyes fly open, head sitting upright as he scans his bedroom. There's no sign of you. None of your clothes are scattered on the floor, no immediate trace of your scent. He feels a strong pain in his chest suffocating and stabbing him all at once.

He lies back flat on his pillow, fingers rubbing his forehead. He has two thoughts: the first thought, the one he'd rather think is true, is that it was all dream. You hadn't come home to him.

Before he could bring himself to consider the pain of the second thought, the fear is instantly squashed when he hears the door creak open, your sweet soft smile and gentle eyes landing on him.

‘Hiiiii,” you whisper in a singsong, gentle morning voice. Tip toeing bare foot on the hardwood floor, he see’s you’re dressed in nothing but one of Frankies slightly torn over sized, faded band T shirts that swallows your body. Your bed head still evident, eyes baggy yet happy from the events of last night.

He didn't realize he had held his breath the moment before you walked in, afraid that rather than having dreamt it all, that it did happen, and you had left him anyway.

"I made you tea," you hummed, setting the two cups down by his bedside table.

Your ears go red at the image of him: sheet pulled half way up his hip, his bare chest and torso visible as he props himself up with his elbows to get a good look at you. And the WAY he's looking at you, like you’re the only thing that matters in the world, has you sheepishly avoiding his big brown pupils, sliding in to the covers and nuzzling your head against his shoulder.

He wraps his arms around you, unwilling to let you sneak off again. “Don’t wake up before me like that again.”

You giggle. “Frankie, it’s 4 in the afternoon.” 

He checks his digital clock by the bed, true to your word. You both had fucked so hard, so long last night that he didn’t even realize it was well into the morning by the time you had drifted to sleep. 

He lies back down in bed, encircling you to him again. He can more clearly see the damage of last night’s episode on you: bite marks along your tits, hickies against your inner thighs and swollen lips. he doesn’t even need to touch your pussy, feeling its puffy soreness pressing against his leg. He kisses you gently yet passionately this morning, cradling your head so you can’t back away. Not that you want to—he doesn’t feel any resistance in your movements as you devour his lips. 

“I love you,” he says clearly. He can feel the way your breath hitches, the blush on your cheeks at the confession. “I love you, and I’m so sorry it took me so long to say it. I’m sorry I caused you so much confusion and I—“

“Okay, Fish. It’s okay. I know.” You bite your lip, pushing your hand against his chest so that he’s lying down on his back. “But I’m not sure I forgive you just yet.”

A brief moment of confusion wracks his face before you’re clambering on top of him again, your naked lower body straddling his under the sheet. You fist the t shirt of your head, letting your soft supple breasts fall. Frankie immediately grabs them tenderly with both of his warm hands, his breath quickening. His length twitches, hard as a rock and pressing right against his lower stomach as you glide your slick folds along him.

“I think you should keep making it up to me.” You align the tip of his throbbing cock against your swollen entrance and sink down, hands seeking purchase on his chest, scratching the skin there as he fills your sore cunt, taking him down to the hilt in one go.

You let out the tiniest, sexiest whimper, and Frankie is ready to drop everything he’s ever owned just to hear it again. So smitten with you, he’s grinning harder than he has his entire life. Like a big dumb idiot.

Your big dumb idiot.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Querida: I love you.”

Tagging people who either requested a part 2/3 or directly requested to be tagged. At least what i can remember (sorry if I missed you!)

- - - -

Series masterlist

Series Taglist: @paleidiot @pedropascalsbbg @tonakings @nerdieforpedro @thewritermj @ahintofkiwistrawberry @perfectly-imperfect-me23 @sammy-4103 @survivingandenduring @millercontracting @emilyjustemily @boiistfu @pedritoferg @missladym1981 @titlee78 @fairytale07 @multiplefandomwritings @steviesimp @marisemonteiroo @dilfluverrrrrrr @howdigetinhere @jessthebaker

Permanent Taglist: @harriedandharassed 

[zorosprincess]

I Fucking Hate You

PAIRING - Tsukishima Kei x Reader WC - 4.5K GENRE - smut CW - mentions of drinking, short(er) reader, manhandling, some degradation... i mean c'mon... it's tsukki, fingering, mentions of spit, unprotected sex, creampie

MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

If you would have known that letting your best friend Aiko convince you to come to the university volleyball team's 'end of trimester' party would end with you here, like this... you would not have come. You would have said to hell with her begging and her crocodile tears, the pout on her lips that was replaced with a huge smile the second you gave in and said yes.

"You're worse than that Oikawa boy." You had said the words just to watch her face twist up in disgust as she gagged, "never compare me to him again." "You know he likes you, right?" you'd joked, hoping to get her irritated enough with you that she'd rescind the invite. It hadn't worked, her hand waving in dismissal, "you're not making me uninvite you."

So yeah. If you'd known that this is where it would have gotten you, you would have said no. If you'd have known that your best friend's ex boyfriend would have been at the party (a fact you were sure Aiko purposely forgot to mention it to you for this reason) you would not have come.

And if you would have known that you and the aforementioned male would be forced to actually interact thanks to your bitch of a best friend, you would have pushed her down the stairs the second you got here and ran for the hills. Because here you were. Alone. With one of the people that you hated the most. The one person you argued with the most.

Honestly, knowing who was throwing the party, you could really only blame yourself. He was on the team. You should've expected him to be here. Really you just didn't think he'd be the type to come to a party. The type to let himself be convinced to come. It was stupid, really. You realized so the second you pulled up to Tadashi's house with Aiko.

The same way you would always show up for Aiko, Tsukishima Kei would always show up for Tadashi.

You had determined that the best way to avoid Tsukishima was to drink with Aiko. To glue yourself to her side because you knew he didn't want to come around both a girl he hated and his ex-girlfriend. As long as you didn't let yourself get pulled away by a teammate then you should have been fine.

Should have been.

What you did not account for, however, was being shoved down the hallway after him by said traitor best friend as he was sent to go find extra towels because a couple of the boys wanted to jump into the pool.

It had taken you all of five minutes to give up on finding the towels and to sit yourself on the bed, eyes trailing after the stupid bean pole as he kept digging through cabinets of the room you'd been pointed to.

"Would you care to repeat that?" he sneered out the words and it occurred to you that maybe you hadn't called him that insult only in your head.

"Nope." you popped the p on the word and rolled your eyes. You were suddenly aware of how stupid the drinks with Aiko had been. It wasn't that you were drunk, but you were compromised enough to have no filter between your mouth and your brain. No impulse control. "No one wants to talk to you anyways," you giggled as you let the name Hinata taught you slip from your lips, "Suckyshima."

You were trying so hard not to laugh at the glare he gave you then. He let out an annoyed huff of air as his tongue poked at his lower lip in irritation. He was towering over you at that point - When did he move in front of you? Why did he have to be so tall that it hurt for your neck to crook back and look at him? - he was looking down at you with his signature condescending smirk.

"Listen, shrimp," his smirk widened as you glared up at him, "I'm sorry the simple task of looking for towels is too hard for that dumb little brain of yours to understand," he emphasized his words with a flick to your forehead and you nearly growled as you swatted his hand away, "but don't take it out on me." He laughed and stepped away from you.

You clenched our teeth as you stood up then, not that it helped much, he still towered over you as you straightened to your full height. You tried your hardest to keep your tone unbothered as you struck out, trying to hit a nerve, "ya know, lamppost-" you couldn't help your smile, almost seeing the tilt of his head and eye roll at the sound of the nickname you'd never once let up on since the first time you'd met- "if you weren't such an ass maybe someone would actually enjoy talking to you."

He scoffed, continuing to look around the room for the third time. "Like you? I'd rather be deaf and mute for the rest of my life."

You made an amused sound in the back of your throat. "At least I'd never have to listen to your stupid voice again." It was a childish jab, you knew it and he knew it, but you couldn't help yourself. The need to piss him off, to annoy him, it was just too overwhelming. You had to do it. "I mean doing the world a favor really. Maybe knock that smug look off your face, sitting there, thinking you're better than everyone."

"Like you're any better?" He turned to look at you, eyebrows raised and lips twitching, mocking as he re-closed the distance he'd just put between the two of you. Why did he have to be so stupidly tall? "Walking around, acting like a bitch, like the world owes you everything." He glared down at you and you looked right back up at him in defiance. "Think you'd know better since you haven't been able to attract a boy since high school - yeah Maki's told me all about it. Walking around like you're the shit just because you're a pent up bitch."

You could feel your face heat up in anger. Embarrassment coursing into your system as you silently cursed Aiko for sharing that information with the enemy. It wasn't like you had actively looked for someone and had been turned down, so it wasn't like it was something to be ashamed of. But knowing that Tsukishima knew about it suddenly made all rational thought leave your brain.

"You don't know shit." You shoved at his chest and he took a half step back at the force. He let out a soft scoff, almost like he was impressed you even had the gall to lay your hands on him. "Like you've landed a girl since you were with Aiko in high school?" You shoved again and watched as his tongue poked at the bottom of his cheek, a telltale sign that he was holding back his words, his insults. "You're nothing but an ignorant," shove, "arrogant," shove, "asshole," one last shove. "I hate you." You rolled your eyes and pushed past him. "Not worth my time."

"I'm real fucking sick of your mouth." Tsukishima's voice cut through the air and you barely registered the feeling of a hand on your arm before your back slammed against the wall. It took you a moment to register his frame caging you in but he was already speaking. "Watch your attitude." The words were formed more into a growl as he pushed them through his teeth, one of his hands keeping you pinned to the wall by your upper arm.

You let out an embarrassingly high-pitched squeak at the motion and almost felt the need to submit overcome you before you snapped yourself out of it. Your mind was begging your body to ignore the proximity between the two of you. Begging your body to ignore how hot annoying it was that he was towering over a foot taller than you, caging you against the wall.

You felt the heat travel past your face and start on your neck. Your head spun trying to figure out if it was still just anger or if there was a blush starting on the skin too. You hated the thought. You pushed at his chest again and tried to yank your arm away. "Fuck off!" You seethed at him and a final tug of your arm almost set you free only for him to catch you again and pull you back.

"I wasn't fucking done talking." You struggled against him but he didn't let up, your body twisting in his grip. You groaned as you were once again pinned between him and the wall. But this time, your hands rested against the flat surface, just barely keeping your chest from being fully pressed against it.

"I don't fucking care what you have to say." You struggled to move and only grew more irritated when you couldn't quite get away before you were pinned back to the wall, again. "I'm fucking leaving, you asshole." You took a chance and tried to press your whole body weight back against him to throw him off and create a larger gap between him and the wall but it backfired quickly.

His quick reaction made you realize your mistake. He'd read your movements and his whole body quickly pinned yours to the wall, making it near impossible for more to move. You were reminded again of how bad you had messed up by drinking alcohol. The stupid alcohol that removed the filter between your mouth and your brain, between your body and your brain, as a desperate moan involuntarily clawed its way out of your throat. You froze and your eyes widened as you realized what you had just done, body tensing up immediately.

"Oh?" You could almost see the smirk etching its way onto his lips. A light chuckle vibrated out of his chest against your back as he refused to move. "I get it now." He leaned down, lips leveling with your face, breath tickling the top of your burning ear as he taunted. "You're just a desperate little slut."

"I fucking hate you." You growled at him, jerking your body away from the wall, trying to get away from the embarrassing situation you'd put yourself in. "I'm fucking leaving." You barely got two inches away from him when his muscles tightened and slammed you right back against the wall.

This time, however, he pulled you up on your toes and purposefully ground his hips into your ass. "You're a bitch." You let out a pathetic whimper against your will, the heat crawling its way across your skin as you could feel him harden against you.

The feeling of your core heating up was one you would have welcomed in any situation but this. Any situation where it wasn't Tsukishima Kei pressed against you from behind, you would have already given in. But it was him and you hated him. Your voice was weaker this time, "Get the fuck off me." You pushed again, struggling to escape his grasp.

His weight lifted off your figure and you thought you were home free. You wiggled against him, trying to escape the predicament you had gotten yourself into. Of course if you were thinking a little clearer, if the scent of his cologne wasn't fogging up your senses and the heat of his body wasn't suffocating you, you would have realized that you were only making it worse. He stifled a groan as you brushed against his hips a little too hard and suddenly it felt like you were more trapped.

He slotted his thigh between yours, using it to separate your legs and keep them in place as he leaned down, pressing his cheek to yours. Even the slightest movement from either of you created a delicious friction that had your breath hitching and your panties dampening. "Someone should put you in your fucking place." The way he growled sent shivers down your spine, the heat of his breath bouncing off the wall and fanning both of your faces.

You reached behind you to try and push his thigh down and away, the heat in your body becoming unbearable. "I fucking ha-"

You were cut off by one of his hands snatching both your wrists and pinning them to your lower back. He forced you to arch against the wall, the motion causing your dress to hike up and you to lose your balance on your toes. He pressed his thigh up, angling it just right so that when you slipped off your toes, you unintentionally ground yourself against his thigh. You let out a strangled moan and internally cursed your body for giving in so easily like this. "Don't know where you think you're fucking going now."

You took a deep breath and bit your lip, trying to stop another moan from escaping as he began to move his thigh, the friction sending electricity through your core. There was no way you would let yourself fall apart in front of fucking Tsukishima. No fucking way. You ignored the pleasure flooding your body as you struggled to get your wrists released and get away from him.

"I'm fucking leaving." Why did he have to be so fucking strong. "I swear to god Tsukishima-" a quiet whine interrupted your threat as a particular struggle of yours lined up perfectly with the movement of his thigh and the fabric of your underwear caught against your clit just right. "Let me go." It was supposed to come out as a hard demand but with the way your breathing couldn't steady, it came out more as a pathetic plea.

The cold of his fingers met the heat of your upper thigh and you gasped out as you felt them quickly trail up to pull your underwear aside. "Why don't you tell me to stop then." His condescending tone sent shocks straight through the center of your body in all the ways you hated but his movements slowed as he gathered the slick that had pooled in your underwear, like he was waiting for you to actually say it.

You couldn't. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. Couldn't stop the disgustingly needy whimper that clawed its way out of our throat. "I fucking hate you." You protested but your body worked against you, pushing into his hand a little more.

A breathy chuckle left his lips, "Yeah, and that's why you're so fucking wet, right?" he mocked and sunk two fingers into you without warning. Your mouth dropped open and your body lifted onto your toes as your hands clenched at the sudden feeling. "That's why your stupid little cunt is squeezing my fingers like this?"

"Fu-fuck." Your breath stuttered and you didn't notice when his hand released your wrists, your hands finding purchase on the wall, holding yourself up as he slowly curled his long fingers towards the perfect spot inside of you. A whimper left your lips as he pressed hard into you with his fingers.

"Go on then," he started with an amused huff, "thought you were going to leave." Reality crashed on you again and you snapped your jaw shut. You squeezed your eyes and begged yourself to pull yourself away from him now that you had the chance. But the way that his fingers kept rubbing so perfectly against your g-spot kept your mouth from forming the words, kept your body from leaving the dizzying sensation.

"You're dripping down my hand, you know." He taunted, twisting his wrist slightly and hitting a new angle. He pressed deeper and a cry left your body as you felt his thumb brush your clit. "Here I am, knuckles deep in you," your eyes began to roll back as the pressure in your gut started to build-god why were his fingers so long? why did they move so well? "bet you wanna cum on my fingers now, like a little slut." He laughed again as you let out a broken moan, nails starting to claw at the wall. "Go on and tell me you hate me now."

You bit back another moan and clenched your teeth. You reminded yourself that there was no fucking way you were letting fucking Tsukishima break you like this. "I fucking hate you." You gritted out and pushed off the wall, going to separate yourself from him.

He was quick to catch you by your waist with his free arm, pinning you against himself, this time with no help from the wall. He removed his fingers from your warmth and brought his newly freed hand to your hips. He pushed your dress up further and before you could register what was happening he had turned the both of you and was throwing you down onto the bed.

You were pinned facedown on the bed before you could think. "You need a fucking attitude adjustment." He growled in your ear as he hovered over you, his hands still on your hips, trapping them in place under him.

"Fuck off." Once again, it didn't come out as harsh as you meant it to, your out of breath tone ruining the purpose.

He only laughed at you and both of his hands left your hips, seeking out and finding your wrists quickly. He pinned them against your lower back, once again, holding them in one hand with a bruising grip. He used his other to pull your hips up, listing the rest of your body onto the bed easily and pushing you forward, forcing your knees under your hips and your back into a deep arch. Easily, like you were a fucking ragdoll. The thought pissed you off but sent a new wave of heat rushing for your core.

You hated it. You hated him.

You could barely hear the rustling of fabric, and you definitely didn't recognize its meaning, over the blood rushing in your ears, the position you were in making you feel vulnerable to the one person you would swear up and down the coast that you hated the most.

You realized almost too late that his hand had left your hips and instead it was his knees and thighs holding you in your position. "You don't need these, right?" It was a mocking question that he didn't let you answer, that you didn't even register before the sound of fabric being ripped and your now ruined panties were removed from your frame.

"You ass-" the sound caught in your throat and turned into a squeak as you felt the head of his cock brush against your clit. You couldn't see it, couldn't even shift your hips back to try and gauge how big it was. But the feeling of it spreading your lower lips slightly made you want it inside of you.

"Why don't you keep quiet and let this slutty little pussy have what it wants." It wasn't a question. His fingers dipped back into you barely, just barely past the pads of his fingers and you let a needy whimper slip out at the teasing. He chuckled again, pressing the head of his cock right against your clit, sending a jolt through your body again. You couldn't move and you hated it. Wouldn't even if you could and you hated that too. "C'mon shrimp," he taunted, leaning down and lowering his voice, "tell me how much you want me to stop."

"Shut. Up." You panted it out, your cheek pressed against the mattress. It wasn't a stop. You knew that. He knew that. You could almost picture that stupid smirk on his face as he leaned back up. Picture him shaking his head in amusement, running his hand through that stupidly pretty blonde hair of his.

"Have it your way." The feeling of something cold and wet dripping down onto your hole with perfect accuracy brought a loud gasp out of you. But before you could register how lewd it was that he'd not spit on your pussy but let it drip onto it, he pushed the self-made lube in with the tip of his cock. "Fuck." He breathed out as you let out a pathetic squeak. He was thick. So deliciously thick. "Fuck you're tight."

He released your wrists and your hands instantly flew to fist the comforter by your head as he pushed the full head of his cock in. "Think you can take it?" His voice was breathy but the condescending, challenging tone in his voice was still there. You were nodding before you understood what you were doing. He laughed a you and you heard spit leaving his mouth again before you were distracted by both his hands on your hips. "Good." He bottomed out in a single thrust and your vision went white.

A choked moan escaped from you as you were suddenly engulfed by the feeling of being split open. He was seated deeper than you had ever taken anything and the pain that jolted through your core had never felt so delicious. And nothing had ever sounded as good as the moan that left his lips as his fingers on your hips tightened, no doubt leaving small bruises in their wake. You opened your mouth to say something but all that left was another cry as he moved his hips, starting at a brutally fast and hard pace.

You couldn't call the sounds that left your mouth moans, couldn't even call them whimpers. They were shrill cries of half-formed curses and pleas, desperate whines as he pounded into you. Your hips were bruising as you tried to hold on to the comforter to ground you to reality. The pain and pleasure of the pace and force that he was rutting into you was making your mind go hazy.

He wrapped one of his hands into your hair and yanked, keeping your back arched but pulling your chest off the bed. Your arms scrambled to find their way under you, begging to hold up your body but failing as his hips refused to slow their pace. The new angle that his hips slammed into you at had your mouth left open, eyes finding a home at the back of your skull while pathetic, shrill moans left your body unfiltered. "Please, please, please." You begged without shame, heat burning all of your nerve ends.

"Please what?" he growled out, "what do you want slut?" You whimpered at the derogatory term. "Oh? Feel that?' he taunted, slowing down slightly to let both of you enjoy the way his cock stretched and rubbed against your inner walls, "the way your cunt just tightened when I called you a slut?" You cried out and tried to nod but couldn't due to the hold he had on your hair. "So tell me what you want, slut."

"Ple-" a cry left your mouth, "please wanna-" another broken moan escaped, "wan' cum." You slurred the words out as he tightened his grip on your hip and your hair.

"You wanna cum on my cock?" You tried to nod desperately, a flurry of slurred "yes"s leaving your mouth. He laughed and halted all his movements. A frustrated groan ripped its way out of your throat as the heat dissipated ever-so-lightly. "Look at your cute little cunt drooling all over my cock." He laughed as you whined, trying to push your hips towards him to get him to move again. His grip steeled, making it impossible for you to move. "Ask me then." You widened your eyes at his words. "And don't you dare fucking cum without permission." He growled in finality.

"Wha-what?" He gave a harsh tug on your hair and your eyes fluttered. Fuck it. "Please." You whimpered lightly. He moved his hips lightly, drawing out and pushing back in ever so slightly. Not enough. "Please can I-" he cut you off by resuming his previously brutal pace as the heat returned in full force to your belly, tightening pressure building quickly.

You remembered his threat and struggled to get your tongue to form the question. "Can I-" a scream ripped through your body at a particularly hard thrust, "can I please." The last word was drawn out with a long whine, trying to catch your breath. "Please," you tried to catch your breath as moans fell effortlessly from your mouth, "wan' cum, wan' cum, cum ple-ah!" your mindlessly babbled pleas interrupted by your cry.

"Can I- can I- please." He mocked you, shifting his pitch up before laughing. "God so stupid you can't even ask a question?" His voice was strained but collected as he pounded into you impossibly harder, cries falling from your mouth, eyes rolling back again, tongue flipping past your bottom lip. "Fucking cum then. Cum on my cock like a good little slut." Like a command.

"Fuck!" You cried as you felt every one of your muscles tighten around him, his movements refusing to let up on your body as you started to shake. He released your hair and your upper body crashed down to the sheets as he resumed a two-handed grip on your hips, recklessly starting to lose his rhythm as he pulled your body to meet his every thrust, fucking you through your orgasm. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, Kei!" His given name fell from your lips in a shriek and almost immediately you received a response.

"Fu-ck." The word left his lips in a broken moan. A higher pitched leaving right after you felt his length twitch inside of you, spilling his load deep into your core. He paused for barely a second before pushing you flat onto the bed, disconnecting your bodies easily.

So that was that. You thought, preparing to catch your breath and lay there in your shame. That plan, however, was interrupted as Tsukishima gripped your legs by your knees, easily flipping you onto your back and drawing you towards the end of the bed. You leaned up on your elbows, looking and watching, speechless as he rid himself of the pants that had been half on this whole time. Your breath hitched as he tore his shirt off next.

As much as you hated to admit it, he was a fucking sight to see.

Sculpted abs flexing with every movement. Sweat dripping down his perfect, lean muscles. Blonde hair damp and mussed without care. And his still hard cock. Fuck. It was fucking gorgeous and glistening with a mix of both his and your cum.

You swallowed hard and met his eyes as he smirked down at you. That stupid fucking condescending smirk that made your skin burn with hatred, and now lust.

"Did you think I was fucking done?" He was inexplicably intimidating from this angle-towering over you. He laughed at your wide-eyed expression and reached to tear off your dress. "What's wrong, slut? No smart remarks this time?"

You groaned and lost your balance on your arms as he quickly pushed two fingers back into you, watching with sick satisfaction as his cum gushed around them.

You moaned despite yourself. "I fucking hate you."

a/n - i need to be shot down please. tsukishima brain rot is back

TAGLIST - OPEN @tetsuskei

[vscabarca]

immediate regret - pablo gavi

summary: gavi and you fought after a game, so you made him leave your apartment.

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: swearing

———

„Can't you just shut the fuck up for once and not be so annoying? Bother someone else." Gavi yelled through the apartment, making your body flinch at his words.

„i'm just trying to help you!" You spoke in a distressed voice.

„i don't fucking need your help." He was still angry, yelling around the room without even looking at his girlfriend, throwing his hands into the air.

„Why does everything have to be a struggle with you?" You asked him in disbelief, your voice cracking mid sentence.

Barcelona lost against Real Madrid in el Clásico, the most important game of the season. Additionally to that, Gavi received his fifth yellow card, meaning he'll be suspended for the next game.

You knew how hot-headed he could become after bad games, but this was new. All you've wanted to do is make him feel better, so you tried to talk to him. The two of you had your arguments, yes, but he had never yelled at you before.

Gavi felt immediate regret in seeing you stand there almost in tears. He was quick in approaching you, trying to apologize to his girlfriend.

You backed up, feeling a familiar tightness in your throat as your vision became blurry.

Quietly, but with a firm voice you spoke to him.

„Leave my apartment." It wasn't much what came out, but enough to make Gavi widen his eyes in devastation.

„Pero nena... please, i didn't mean it like that." he argued with pity but you couldn't stand seeing him right now.

„No, i dont wan't you here tonight, not after what you've said." Your voice trembled but you still wanted him gone. Maybe that way you both could cool off a bit.

„Look, i'm sorry" Gavi wanted to embrace you in his arms, but you interrupted him.

„Just leave Gavi, i can't see you right now." Tears were streaming down your face, making it hard to breathe.

He looked at you once more with nothing but regret in his eyes and left your apartment with a huff.

In the car he scolded himself for being so reckless with you, trying to figure out why he said what he said. His temper after games often led to arguments between you two, always bickering about how gavi couldn't control his emotions very well.

You felt like time would do both good. You knew somehow you would fix this mess but didn't want to discuss this in the heat of the moment.

———

Both slept worse than usal the next days, and the guilt ate Gavi up alive. His practice suffered from your fight, his mind was often somewhere else, thinking how to apologize to you.

He spoke to Pedri, getting some helpful advice in return and made his way back to your apartment.

You were currently watching a series to distract yourself from having no contact with Gavi for the last two days.

The knock on your door made your head turn as you did not expect anyone today. You opened the door, revealing Gavi on the other side.

He looked at you with a warm, small smile. In his hands were tulips.

„Can i come in?" Gavi asked carefully, waiting for your answer.

„Yeah come in." You answered, smiling slightly too.

The truth is you missed him very much, you hated fighting with him.

As you got seated, he placed the flowers onto the coffee table.

„you know, buying me flowers won't make me forgive you pablo." You raised your eyebrows at him.

„i know that, but i saw them and still wanted to give you something in addition to my apology." he replied chuckling. „i behaved like an idiot. i should've never screamed at you, you just wanted to help me. You know what a hot-headed kid i can be and I'm very sorry i took my anger out on you amor." he continued, holding your hands in his.

You smiled up at him, realizing he meant it.

„i know it means much to you, but i just want to help you with whatever you're dealing with. You could've just told me to leave you alone and i would've given you some time." you replied sincerely.

„i'm sorry amor. i promise it won't happen again. besides i had the worst two days without you. Am i forgiven?" Gavi asked once more as he scooted closer to you.

„Mhm. i've missed you too." you answered and leaned in for a kiss.

Gavi leaned in too, placing his plump lips on yours.

„i've missed your cuddles." you said as he pulled you down to him and wrapped his strong arms around your waist.

„Then lets watch something and cuddle." Gavi placed a sweet kiss on your head and snuggled closer to you if that was even possible.

[eldritch-nightmare]

Can we have headcanons where the reader gets scared of the pastas and try to run away?

a/n: yes you can!! decided to just do 5 creepypastas here just to ease myself back into writing. this isn't proofread btw

includes: jeff the killer, the bloody painter, eyeless jack, homicidal liu, and zalgo.

warnings: unhealthy relationships, possessive behavior, mentions of cults, overprotective behavior, kidnapping, swearing, does this qualify as yandere? i think it does so, that's basically the gist of it, yeah.

JEFF THE KILLER

Okay first of all, how fucking dare you? Second of all, how fucking dare you?

You should be scared, honestly.

I mean, honestly, what the hell were you thinking? You can't run away from him, you idiot. There's no escape. You're stuck with him! He thought you knew that already.

Apparently not, seeing as the lovely little cabin he was keeping you in was empty and the front door was wide open when he arrived.

You're not going to be able to calm him down when he eventually finds you. It doesn't matter how long it takes, or how far you've gotten. He will find you. You're his. You're not allowed to leave him, ever.

"Do you wanna fucking die?" Were the first words that came out of Jeff's mouth when he found you. You had been running through this damned forest for hours now, and it was when you finally decided to take a short break that he had caught up to you. It wasn't hard to find you, he knew these woods like the back of his hand.

The anger was heavy in his words and in his actions. His grip on you has always been tight, but this was worse. Your arm stung as his nails dug into your skin, dragging you closer to him. You tried to ignore the knife pressed against your side, but it was easier said than done.

You ran from him because you were scared of him. That was your excuse, as you struggled to get out of his grasp without getting yourself stabbed.

It definitely got a laugh out of him, one full of malice. Oh, you're scared? Big fucking deal, that doesn't mean you can up and leave him. And when he drags you all the way back to the cozy little cabin in the woods that he lovingly kept you locked away in, trust me, you'll regret ever trying to run away from him.

If you want him to leave you alone so badly, then so be it.

THE BLOODY PAINTER

He's a little annoyed, to be honest. He thought you loved him, so you running away from him certainly made him upset.

Helen didn't want you to be scared of him. He wanted you to love him, and he wanted to have a normal relationship with you.

But he supposes he isn't all that shocked. He's a serial killer, after all. It's not surprising that you wanted nothing to do with him.

The moment he realized you were gone, he was abandoning everything to hunt you down.

Even if you are scared of him, he can't let you leave him.

There was a look of heavy disappointment in Helen's expression when he found you. It's the most emotion you've seen on his face in the time that you've known him. He had you cornered, so you couldn't get away from that damned expression.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be," He had said when you stumbled backward as he approached. Helen would never hurt you, so why are you so afraid of him? Can't you see that he loves you? Is it really that hard to trust him? He thought you loved him, so coming home to an empty house just... it hurt him a lot, can't you see?

He doesn't want to hurt you, he just wants you to take his hand so he can take you home.

But he won't hesitate to knock you out if you refuse to go willingly. He loves you so much, there's simply no way he can ever let you leave him. Besides, you know far too much. It would be risky if he let you go.

And when you wake up, you'll be confined to one room until he's certain you won't try and leave him again. He gets that you're scared, he truly does, but you need to behave.

EYELESS JACK

Feels genuinely guilty for maybe a solid 5 seconds before instincts take over.

Honestly, he's probably the only one here that will catch up to you immediately. He has a keen sense of smell, and you're his mate, so of course he's going to be able to find you with ease.

He doesn't like that you're scared of him. You were supposed to love him! You're mates! Why are you scared of him?

Like... actually genuinely confused as to why you ran away.

You could've just talked to him! Why'd you have to run?

Well, it's too late now. You chose to run, so he'll gladly chase you down to the ends of the earth if he must. He's not going to let you leave him, there's no chance.

The Jack you know is awkward, and stoic. But he's stressed to you many times that he loved you deeply. The Jack that crashed into you after spending hours hunting you down after you ran away was different.

Sometimes you forget that he was a little less than human because when he dragged you to the ground with him, his chest was heaving and he was barely able to contain the growl in his voice as he spoke, "I caught you."

His claws were digging into your skin, threatening to draw blood if you so much as squirmed underneath him. A subtle threat, one that you took very seriously.

It truly isn't his intention to scare you. He loves you more than you'll ever know. But you can't leave him. You can't. He needs you. The second he decided that you were the one for him, your fate was sealed. He refuses to let you leave him, no matter how scared of him you are. You'll learn to get over this fear, he's sure of it.

HOMICIDAL LIU

Oh. Yeah. Okay. Totally. That... that hurts, yeah. Don't get him wrong, he gets it. But ouch.

If he were in your position, he'd probably be scared as well. And for a brief moment, he considers letting you go but...

He can't. He just can't. He loves you too much to let you go, and it's just too dangerous for you to be out there in the world, where he can't protect you.

He's really good at tracking people down, it's basically his specialty, so you won't be able to get too far before he's behind you.

He knows you're scared. He gets it. He understands. But he's doing this for your own good. He hopes you'll come to understand that one day as well.

He had found you hours after you managed to sneak away from him, but he didn't make his presence immediately known. He was having an internal struggle, torn between letting you go and bringing you back into his arms. He didn't want you to hate him, but he couldn't stand the thought of you getting hurt.

He made it quick, knocking you out before you had even realized he was there. And when you wake up, back in the safety of the little hideaway he keeps you in, you see Liu with an expression of pure and genuine guilt in his expression.

"I'm sorry." He had said, because he was.

Liu is doing this for your own good. He's just trying to keep you safe. If he had let you go, who knows what could've happened to you! You have a target painted on your back, and there's someone out there who wouldn't hesitate to kill you if it meant getting to Liu.

So, no. You can't leave him. He needs to keep you safe.

ZALGO

Yeah, good luck with that. The likelihood of you ever being able to leave Zalgo is damn near nonexistent. He has eyes everywhere, always watching you.

But let's say you do manage to run away without him noticing. Good job, by the way. That's not an easy thing to do. He'd be really pissed though.

He doesn't have attachments to people, seeing them as objects for him to toy around with until he grew bored. But you? You were special.

You were his favorite toy. He cherished you, kept you locked away so no one else could have you. Your fear was cute! He couldn't just let you go.

Rest assured, he will find you. He'll drag you back to your rightful spot.

Zalgo had been both impressed and enraged when he saw that you were gone. He had eyes everywhere, always watching you, alerting him if anything were to ever happen to you. For a moment, he had thought that someone had up and taken you. After all, why would you run away from him? You were smarter than that, surely. But he was wrong. You had left. Somehow managed to sneak out without him ever noticing.

Finding you wasn't going to be too much of an issue. His power was immeasurable, his influence vast. He had too many cults to keep track of, and they were all hunting for you. He was sure to greatly reward whichever cult found you first.

And once you were safely brought back to the cage he kept you in, he would linger around more than he normally does. Clearly, the pieces of him that he leaves behind to monitor you have been growing complacent, so he intends on sticking around until you learn your lesson, "Aw, does my presence make my little human scared?"

He thinks your fear is adorable, and he can't fault you for that. He's very angry that you ran away, however, and rest assured that he won't let that go unpunished. Clearly, you've gotten too comfortable here in this realm of mortals. Perhaps it would be best if he brought you to his domain... you would certainly have a much harder time escaping if he did that.

You'll only have yourself to blame if he chooses to go through with that train of thought.

[fallinglikemagic]

Okay, now that everybody's had some time to process and gotten some of the doomposting out, here's my thoughts on the whole situation.

First of all, I'm not really worried about whether or not RWBY will continue in some capacity. It's uncertain, sure, but no more than it was already. In February we got the update that they were talking to potential partners about getting volume 10 made, so clearly they weren't just relying on Rooster Teeth and Warner Brothers for it - maybe one of those companies will pick it up, maybe a different company will, either way I'm sure it *will* be picked up by somebody and unless they get real unlucky, the show won't be much worse off than it was before - if anything it might be better off, considering that WB have been shitty about animation for quite a while now (if you're not already familiar and you're up for some extra research, I recommend looking into the Coyote vs ACME situation that's been going on recently for a great example of WB's bullshit). And while it's unclear exactly how much involvement the original crew will have in the show's future, I'm pretty optimistic about it. I doubt the writers are going to let go of creative control without a fight, if for nothing else then for Monty - I don't like focusing too much on the whole Monty's Legacy stuff in general, but I do think that the crew are going to want to keep their friend's work alive and authentic and as accurate to what he wanted it to be as possible. None of this is a certainty of course, but I think RWBY is gonna be fine, things will just be kinda rocky for a bit.

With all that being said, while this may end up ultimately being a blessing in disguise for RWBY as a franchise, it sure ain't one for everybody who worked at Rooster Teeth. This entire situation is still horrible - so many people being fired on the spot, effective immediately, with no warning and with several of them only finding out by seeing articles about it being posted on Twitter, it's fucked. I know Rooster Teeth wasn't exactly lacking in controversy and problematic behaviour, to put it lightly, but there were still plenty of amazing people there who are now in a really shitty situation. On top of that, while again this isn't exactly anything new, especially for WB, it is the latest instance of a huge problem in the animation and entertainment industries. So no matter how things pan out for RWBY, we should still be really fucking mad about this.

And we definitely shouldn't be celebrating. I've seen some posts saying "good riddance" and celebrating RT's downfall, not just from people who hate RWBY (I mean don't get me wrong I'm sure the hatedom is out in full force but that's not the kind of thing I'm referring to right now), but people who like/used to like the show and just hated the company. And don't get me wrong, I didn't like a lot of things about the company either, I've actually been wanting RWBY to separate itself from RT for a pretty long time (be careful what you wish for I guess 💀), but there's a time and a place and this certainly ain't it. Plenty of people who have worked there have said that they loved their jobs, plenty of others said it was horrible and toxic and nightmarish, but either way a job is a job and in this industry work isn't always easy to find, especially in recent years. Celebrate in private if you want, but now is not the damn time to be bringing out the cake and confetti.

TLDR; I'm cautiously optimistic about RWBY's future, I'm pretty sure it'll be fine and they'll be able to keep the core crew to at least some extent, but this is still a really bad situation for everybody who just lost their jobs, don't be a dick.

[jeankluv]

Cherry Lips || Fem!Trafalgar Law x Fem!reader

Words: 1.4k

Warnings: +18, modern au, roommates, best friends to lovers, masturbation, oral sex, sexual toys, fingering, female law, no use of y/n, no description of the oc

Notes: finally the queen made her debut on the anime and what a better way to celebrate it than making a lesbian nsfw one shot.

Materialist

She was her best friend, but she was so down for her. Hell she has been for years. She knew how she felt about women long before she met her best friend, but the moment of meeting her and becoming close had awakened something in her that she had never felt before.

She had tried every means to sink those feelings deep down, but she had been in vain. It didn't care how many dates she had or how many one-night stands she had, he could only think about her and her tattoos, her ear piercings, her short dark hair, her big gray eyes. her. Oh my god I was so screwed.

And now alone in the apartment they shared, she wanted to tear her hair out. She had left to go on a date with some asshole. But of course she couldn't blame her for anything when she did the same thing.

“Fuck it.” She sighed.

Besides, Law had never shown interest in her, or in any other girl. Since she met her she had only dated assholes, as she liked to call it.

“I should have gone out today…” She closed her eyes, rubbing her temple. “At least I wouldn't be here dying of jealousy.”

She could be spending a night with some girl but she was there alone, in her apartment watching a shitty movie. It was barely eleven at night, and I was not sleepy. What could I do?

An idea crossed his mind. Law probably wasn't going to arrive in a couple of hours. So he could take advantage of this time alone to enjoy himself. Normally she had to control herself, even though Law had told her more than once that it didn't matter. But that made her worse, she meant that she didn't feel anything from her when she heard her moan at night when she touched herself.

She got up from the couch and went to his room, it was hot. Thinking about Law and the dress she wore for her date had made her horny. And she needed to touch herself or in the end she would explode from helplessness.

She walked to her room and looked for the vibrator she had bought a few years ago. She dropped the black pajamas she was wearing and lay on her bed.

She began touching her nipples, sending a shiver down her spine as her cold hand collided with her nipple. And with his other hand he sucked two of his fingers to bring them to his entrance and then insert them.

Moans began to escape her mouth and she imagined it was Law, the one pushing her tattooed fingers into her pussy. She wanted so much for those fingers to touch her and for those lips, painted with a cherry color, to devour her.

“Fuck Law…” She moaned out loud.

It didn't matter how much she moaned, she didn't care because she was alone and her best friend wasn't going to know that she was fantasizing about her. She took her fingers out and picked up the vibrator from the table and began to pleasure herself. If I continued at this pace he would cum in just a few minutes.

“Fuck yes.”

Her breathing was becoming more labored and her pulse was even faster, she was so close, so close to arriving. Until she heard her name being called. She could feel how she paled in that instant. Law was standing in front of the door, mouth half open, looking at her. It was not the first time she had seen her naked, but it was the first time she had seen her in that situation.

“Fuck Law!” She screamed, trying to cover herself up. “Why are you here so early?”

“He was an asshole and I left earlier.” She said without stop looking at her. “Like you said.”

“Of course! I’m always right. You always match with the worst kind of guys.” She said, looking in another direction.

What’s up with that look on her face?

Law called you once again. “Did you came?”

She looked at her, of course she didn’t. “No.” She whispered.

Law nodded and left the room without saying anything. She looked at the spot where Law had been a moment ago and felt something in her chest vibrate. Why had Law been looking at her like that? There was something she didn't understand, something she was unable to decipher.

She felt Law's footsteps approaching her room again and there she saw her again. She entered her room and closed it behind her. Approaching the bed she climbed up, causing the mini dress she was wearing to ride up more than expected and probably expose her red underwear.

“Law, what are you doing?” She whispered when Law touched her leg.

“You said you didn’t came, so I’m going to help you.” She said, grabbing one of her legs and placing a kiss on them.

“Law! You don’t…” She was shaking, just one kiss had made her shake like that.

“I don’t what?” She smirked, getting closer to her. “You were moaning my name so prettily just a few minutes ago.” She held her chin and looking at her.

“I…” Shit, she heard her and now she was there wanting to make her cum.

“Tell me, you want me to make you cum?” She lend closer to her lips.

She swallowed and nodded, if she wanted it, of course she wanted it. "Yes please."

“That’s my girl.” She said leaving a kiss on the corner of her lips and laying her on the bed.

Law placed herself between her legs and began to devour her best friend's pussy. She began to moan, it was not at all what she had imagined, it was much better. Law's tongue entered and touched places that she thought were not possible, while with one of her hands she played with one of her nipples and with the other hand she rubbed her clitoris.

“So sweet.” Law licked her lips, once she came.

“Law…” Her chest moved up and down, trying to restore her normal breathing, trying to calm her heart. Because no matter how much she tried to deny it, she was so screwed by that girl with tattoos that at any moment, she would break.

“Yes princess?” She touched her hair approaching her.

“I… you.” She looked down, Law also deserved to be pleased.

She turned around, both of them, leaving Law behind. The gray-eyed girl looked at her with surprise and then with a smirk on her face. She lowered the straps of her dress, revealing more of the tattoo on her chest and then her naked breasts, decorated with a piercing in each nipple. She moved her mouth to one of them and started playing with it. She could hear Law moaning her name and pulling her hair. She lowered her hand to her entrance and without warning she inserted two fingers inside her, making her turn her back at the sensation.

She changed the nipples but kept moving her fingers in and out of her, while Law kept repeating her name and saying that she was going to cum. When she finally felt her cum on her fingers and Law's heavy breathing beneath her, she pulled away from her nipple and looked at her with a smile on her face.

If this had been a feverish dream she hoped she would never wake up. And if it had been reality, she wanted it to happen again.

“That was…” She started talking.

“Amazing.” Law smiled, cupping her cheeks.

“Law I…”

“Yes?”

“I like you.” It was out, finally it was out of her chest. “I know you don’t feel the same and it’s okay, I just hope our friendship isn’t ruined by this.”

“Who said I don’t feel the same?” She looked at Law with surprise.

“But you… You…”

“I have been trying to deny my feelings for quite some time but every time I see you those feelings come back to me, stronger than ever. Tonight’s date was just my confirmation, that it doesn’t matter how much I search, there is no one else like you.”

She was speechless, she felt the same way as her. “Law…I felt the same way. For so long, the only one I could think about was you and only you. And these feelings have been killing me.”

“Well princess, it’s over now.” She smiled and kissed her.

The kiss was sweet and slow, filled with all the love they had kept for so long

“Should I move to your room?” Law whispered into her lips.

“I think your room is bigger, I should move to yours.”

“That’s a good idea.”

[presidentlokis-hornyhelmet]

Pavitr x reader

Reader having her period PLEASE 😚

My Little Heat Pack

Summary: It's that time of the month for you. Cue mood swings, cramps... and misunderstandings. Tags: Misunderstandings, Mood Swings, period, Pre Menstrual syndrome (PMS), menstrual cramps, Pav being a sweetiepie A/N: Sanam means smth like sweetheart or lover idk: Meri jaan = my life (pet name)

Also read on AO3

"I hate it, i hate it, I hate everything!", you snap. 

It's been like that for a week now; you've been all snappy and angry and sobbing at something someone said for no reason. It was petty and you hated it but you couldn't control your emotions. It was a fucking mess.

And then, there's your stomach, cramping at the most inopportune times. It was that fucking time of the month. It didn't help you had PMS either, which made it all the more worse.

Pain flares in your lower abdomen, joining the one in your knees. You curl on the bed hugging the pillow with a heat pack on your tummy, hoping the pain goes away. The bloating and the blood flow throw your mental peace into a blender, skin feeling annoyingly hotter. The bra hurts your sore breasts and to add insult to injury, pimples had shown up! 

With your lower back killing you, you just want to roll over and sleep, feeling exhausted. Moaning in pain, you reach for your phone and put on some music. At least that will make you feel better. 

________

Pavitr sat on his bed pouting like a sad puppy.

Since last week you've been behaving weird and even though he only began to date you a month ago, he feels he should at least know if you were mad at him. 

Were you mad at him? He had no clue what he'd done to make you upset, worried that he somehow fucked this up. 

It began last Monday when he threw his arms around you in greeting.

"Sanam!", he'd yelled in your ear, trying to lift you up for a spin. 

You squirmed in his arms and removed yourself with a polite smile, leaving him with a lame excuse to walk with Gayatri.

Since then you two have been sticking together. You usually do, but now it seems like you don't want him around, finding excuses to run away from him and it made him sad. 

He decided to give you space, thinking you were in a bad mood. (And, in a bad mood you were). Either way, he was sure you'd feel better by the end of day. 

His hope wilted when Pavitr found you looking increasingly irritated as the day progressed, as if you were annoyed with anything and everything. You were cursing more than ever! You had been lying down the whole day, occasionally clutching your stomach and when he asked, you replied you were fine, which made him more worried. 

Alarms went off in his head and he grew all the more concerned when you won't hang out with him. 

Why were you avoiding him? What did he do wrong?

He thought back to the last week and what he did that might've upset you, in vain. He got up, pacing in his room as a hundred scenarios ran in his head -nothing helpful. It was frustrating.

Lost, he went to find Maya aunty for advice.

_______

Music had started off good enough but right now you were in "I hate being a girl" mood, and the song currently playing wasn't much help. Rain splattering against your window managed to calm you down a little, though; you've always loved the rain. 

"Knock knock." 

You startle as you see Pavitr sitting on your window pane, surprisingly not wet. "Pav?", you sniff, eyes watery, "how did you-" 

"Magic", he says, stepping into your room. He tenses seeing your tears tracks. "Sanam, are you crying?" 

"Arcade", you explain, "That song is so sad.."

Pavitr smiles in relief and hands you a tissue, kissing your forehead after. You watch him, curious as he takes off his hoodie and reveals a grocery bag from inside it. 

"I come bearing gifts!"

Gifts? Vaguely, you recall snapping at him earlier and an apology is on the tip of your tongue when the cramps come again. Fuck fuck fuck! 

"Shh, it's okay, I'm here", he says in a soft tone, running his hand over your tummy. His touch is like magic and you instantly feel better. 

"Wow.. my cramps stopped!" 

Pavitr blushes hard at that, words abandoning him as he tries to speak. Giving up, he reaches into the bag instead.

"Chocolate? I read it makes you feel better during these times." 

Just like that, your mood soars as you eye the sweets. All types -milk, coconut, strawberry, dark chocolate, a couple of snickers' and mars bars. Beneath it you find a tub of ice cream, assorted sweets and then some.

Pavitr just chuckles as you greedily munch on the candy and refuse to share. 

"How did you know what to bring?", you ask when you've had your fill. 

He rubs his neck shyly, "I thought I did something to upset you and that's why you won't talk to me. So I asked Maya aunty and she said about.. this... I did some googling to find out what would help." 

Your heart practically melts, eyes tearing up in joy. "Aww, you're such a sweetiepie, Pav. I'm sorry to make you think that way. I didn't realize it." 

"No need to apologize, meri jaan. I just want to help you. Speaking of..", he trailed, looking hesitant, "may I cuddle you? I heard it helps ease the pain."

You grin nodding and lie down in a spooning position, welcoming him. Pavitr is more than happy to oblige and wraps his arm from behind, rubbing your tummy in soothing circles. The pain in your abdomen and private parts rapidly becomes more bearable with his presence. 

"Stay like this?", you plead and he grins his approval. You snuggle closer, sighing as your body finally relaxes. He really is what you need!

"Mmm.. you're my little heat pack." 

Pavitr smiles seeing you slowly nod off in his arm, not ceasing his rubs when you shuffle in your sleep. He places a soft kiss on your cheek and tucks a loose strand behind your ear, amused when your lips twitch up slightly. 

Pavitr smiles as his extra sensitive hearing catches you mumble his name in your sleep, cooing over you. 

"You're little heat pack." 

_____

Hope you enjoyed it! Reblogs & comments appreciated <3

[henrioo]

°•*⁀➷ SMAU: CROCODILE

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : TransReader (but can be read as cis because have only one mention about pregnancy), MALE READER, GAY RELATIONSHIP, MALE PRONOUNS, mentions to sugar daddy relationship (more like a joke), dark jokes (it's Robin after all), Buggy x Shanks x Mihawk and Buggy x Mihawk (is more a joke and fight to give more entertaining than really a shipp) age gap (not specified but Crocodile is older than reader and reader is older than Luffy, but none age is mentioned)

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : I decided to try make one SMAU because I really like the ones of @sanjisboyfie then thanks for the inspo, I don't know if I gonna make more but I really like this one. Enjoy!

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

crocobaby posted:

liked by MLuffy, Hawkeyes, Akaagami and 638,973

crocobaby_ helping him get late for work... But it is fine, he is the owner ;p

view all 20,327 comments

TheCrocodile you are always so troublesome...

╰ TheCrocodile I wasn't.

╰ crocobaby I didn't see you complaining...

ClownKing that's why you are always late...

╰ TheCrocodile say one more thing and you're gonna regret it

╰ ClownKing DON'T SAY THINGS LIKE THAT!

TheCrocodile posted:

liked by Hawkeyes, Akaagami, QueenIVA and 291,083

TheCrocodile this boy was waiting for me finished the meeting so he could give me flowers... How can I say I'm a little old for that?

view all 8,367 comments

crocobaby but you are my man, you deserve flowers 😔

╰ TheCrocodile I appreciate the flowers but I am not a teenager for that my dear

╰ crocobaby you never are going to be too would for me... And if I don't give you flowers what can I give to show my love to you?

╰ TheCrocodile find me in our room and I can show you some things I can think of...

MLuffy posted

liked by RoroZoro, San, CatNami and 893,547

MLuffy me, my dad and my friend that dates my dad! Wait that makes him my dad too? How much dad's one person can have at the same time?

view all 40,754 comments

CatNami WTF IS (Y/N) DATING YOUR FATHER?? YOU INTRODUCED US SAYING THAT IS ONE OF YOUR FRIENDS LUFFY!

╰ MLuffy so? He is my friend and he dates my dad, he can't be both?

╰ CatNami I'm gonna just ignore that because (y/n) isn't that young too... BUT DAMN @crocobaby YOU GOT A SUGAR DADDY AND DON'T SAY TO US???

San by my count you have four dads if we count with Shanks... If you count the two boyfriends of Shanks then there are six dads... You probably have more dads than we all have together...

╰ ClownKing wtf you saying with two boyfriends??? @akaagami

╰ Hawkeyes 👁️👁️

╰ ClownKing YOU KNOW THAT HE WAS DATING BOTH OF US AT THE SAME TIME???

╰ Hawkeyes Actually probably is you that is dating two men at the same time, because I don't date Akaagami and only date you.

╰ Akaagami WTF YOU MEAN THAT YOU'RE WITH BUGGY????

╰ RoroZoro THAT FUCKING CLOWN??? SERIOUS DAD???

crocobaby posted

liked by Hawkeyes, Mr0001, ROnico and 348,869

crocobaby Damn... He always knows the best places to take me...

view all 32,785 comments

TheCrocodile you deserve the most beautiful things in this world and I will be the men giving you that

╰ crocobaby I don't think there is anything more you could give at this point...

╰ TheCrocodile that is what you think. Let's see the future...

ROnico hope you enjoy your time there, it is gonna be more calm without Boss here 🤭

╰ TheCrocodile any complaints about?

╰ ROnico never sir

ClownKing posted

liked by Hawkeyes, crocobaby, buggyfanclub and 1,647,536

ClownKing if they two gonna act like too teenagers in love I'm leaving right now

view all 70,374 comments

TheCrocodile we actually didn't invite you... So please leave

╰ ClownKing you are fucking mean

Hawkeyes it could be worse, you could have a vacation with them because our sons are friends. Then you gonna be stuck with them because you tree are adults are you have to pretend that you not realize that they are fucking each other only with their eyes.

╰ crocobaby I kinda don't want to go on vacation with you anymore...

╰ Hawkeyes I agree, please don't.

╰ TheCrocodile You really need a boyfriend...

╰ Hawkeyes I have one.

╰ TheCrocodile The clown doesn't count.

crocobaby posted

liked by MLuffy, Hawkeyes, ROnico and 2,347,743

crocobaby Okay... Maybe he hasn't given me all before... But now I definitely have everything I could wish

view all 89,753 comments

TheCrocodile you are the only one that deserves all this

MLuffy are you giving me a brother now?!

╰ crocobaby DON'T FUCKING ENCOURAGE YOUR DAD HE'S JUST WAITING TO TALK ABOUT THIS WITH ME AGAIN

╰ TheCrocodile you can't run now, we live at the same roof.

ROnico I really hope you enjoy your honeymoon and it would be horrible if Crocodile dies but if we think in a positive way you would be a billionaire and probably a boss more chill than him 🤭

╰ TheCrocodile Well I can't say I wouldn't pretend my death only to have eternal vacations...

╰ crocobaby Please don't, I'm supposed to be the househusband, not you!

╰ TheCrocodile so demanding...

QueenIVA SO HAPPY FOR YOU CROCO-BOY AND (Y/N)-KUN, WHEN I GONNA GOT A INVITE TO TALK TO YOUR LOVELY HUSBAND ABOUT YOUR PAST TOGETHER?? I HAVE A LOT OF STORIES

╰ TheCrocodile I'm gonna send the police after you if you show here

╰ crocobaby I'm kinda curious now... And I'm really interested in those stories...

╰ TheCrocodile no you not.

﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋﹋

[ashwhowrites]

I need help! Are we wanting a happy ending with them getting together or them not ending up together? Let me know your thoughts

Here is part 2- not much that has action. More internal thoughts on both sides of the situation :)

never proofread

Eddie found himself back in a hotel room, again all over. His hands burned whenever he looked at them. The hands he put on his own kid. He was spiraling out of control. He did exactly what his wife was praying he would never do. And then added fire to it all when he lost control with Jake.

She told him to get a lawyer and he didn't know where to start with what she meant. Did she mean divorce? Fidning for custody? Was she going to turn him in him for putting his hands on their son? His brain was going a million miles an hour.

He should have known he couldn't just stop. He heard the story about Liam, he heard about the aftermath and how fucked up he became. Why did Eddie think he could easily avoid the addiction? That he could spend many nights getting high and just turn it off in a day?

He hates what Liam put Jake through, and he hates himself for doing it to him and Aria. He knew Y/N didn't deserve it either. She lost someone she loved to drugs before, and now it was happening again. He felt so damn guilty for putting her through this again. He can't imagine the nights she spent crying when he was at parties and blowing his life away.

She loved him and supported him with everything and he betrayed her in a way that was too close to home.

Eddie knew in his heart that his family was more important than the drugs. He knew he wasn't that far gone that he would choose the drugs over them. He just did a horrible job at showing it.

But he wasn't going to just give up. He had the time to get clean, he had places to go if the withdrawals were worse than he planned. He wasn't afraid to throw himself in rehab if that's what she wanted. He was going to get clean and stay clean.

He knew he had to make it up to Jake as well. All the games he missed because he couldn't get out of bed.

He wasn't going to be in any of Aria's birthday pictures, and one she will ask. He owed to make that up to her too.

And Y/N? He didn't know where to start with making it up to her. She welcomed Eddie into Jake's life and he put Jake in danger. That was unforgivable in many ways. And Eddie wasn't sure if that was something he could exactly "make" up to her. But he knew he'd never make his family feel scared of him again.

~~~

He called every morning, and every night. Sometimes she'd pick up, tell him about Aria's day but that was it. She never said a word about Jake and Eddie understood that. It's been a week since the fallout. He knew that he didn't deserve to even get to call her so he took every minute she gave.

Jake had a game this afternoon, Eddie was nervous to show up, but he refused to miss another game. He wanted to be better and this was a shitty step in the right direction. It wasn't much but he hoped it showed he was serious about being there.

He found Y/N and Aria on the bleachers, he respected their space and sat on the opposite side. He didn't want Jake to be distracted by him. He didn't want to upset Jake in a place he always felt positive in.

As the game went on, the more Eddie got invested. Kicking himself for missing so many games. He tried to keep his cheering low and to himself. Not wanting to alert anyone that he was there and make them all feel uneasy.

Jake's team won and he watched as the boy ran to Y/N, hugging her and talking all about his hits. Eddie craved to be there with them, and it hurt knowing he messed up. It was a reminder that even the little things were different because of his mistakes.

~~~

Y/N was used to being alone since Eddie was distant the whole time he was on tour, but this was so much worse. Knowing he was just blocks away and she couldn't feel him. It was like when she was being tortured, he was dangling right there, but everything was different. It wasn't easy, he messed up and it hurt her to make sure he was held accountable. She wanted her husband back and wanted to fall asleep in his arms. She wanted him to make Aria breakfast, and drive Jake to school.

She just wanted it to go back to the way it was before he left for that damn tour. Before he ruined everything and put them in this tough spot.

She almost felt like she was seeing him places. She felt like he was at that baseball game but when she looked he wasn't there. She shrugged it off and took Jake for his celebration ice cream. Aria blabbing happily in her arms.

~~~

As she got Aria settled for bed, she heard her phone ring. She set Aria down and pulled out her phone. Eddie's name and face flashed across her screen. She took a deep breath and answered the call. Allowing him to say goodnight to their daughter.

Once Aria was set for bed, she moved out of the room. Eddie nervously asked if he could talk to Jake. Eddie felt disappointment settle in when Y/N said that Jake refused. But Eddie accepted his answer.

"Thanks for answering, I love you." He held his breath as he waited for her to say something back. A tiny whisper of "I love you too," traveled through the phone. He felt himself smile as she hung up. It was small but it was something.

She got herself ready for bed, Eddie's side still left untouched. She wanted her husband and her family back. But there was a ton of damage done. She was worried they might not be able to come back from this. Would she look like a fool for forgiving him? Would she be a horrible mother for allowing him near Jake again? She had so many questions and hated she was the only one with the answers.

~~~

Jake tossed and turned in his bed. The picture of him and Eddie framed on his desk was taunting him.

He knew what Eddie did was wrong, but he missed him. He never saw his real dad and barely missed him. But Jake has missed Eddie since he left for tour. The Eddie that came home from the tour wasn't his dad, and he missed that version of Eddie.

He believed that version of Eddie was still there, inside him. How did he know?

He saw Eddie on the bleachers during his game. He still cared and he wanted to make up for his mistakes.

Jake wasn't scared of Eddie, he missed his dad.

~~~

Eddie was seconds away from passing out when he heard his phone ding. He blinked open his eyes and adjusted to the brightness on his screen.

"Thanks for coming today, dad"

Eddie smiled at the text from Jake.

He has a lot of work to do fixing himself for his family. But he knew he wouldn't stop until he did.

Tags!

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[stevieschrodinger]

Part Two

Part One

Eddie sits in his van, and he cries about it. He cries so much the already tangled mess of yarn in his hands becomes nothing but a colourful blur. He knows a lot of this is hormones; his neglected Omega falling further and further into depression.

If he neglects his Omega much more, another heat spent alone might actually kill him. Eddie vaguely recognises he's far enough gone that simply not waking up one day sounds kind of nice.

He bought the most expensive yarn he could afford. He knew it wasn't good enough for a pups blanket, but he just couldn't afford the nicer stuff. Yarn is fucking expensive.

So yeah, he got the cheaper stuff, attracted to the colours as much as anything, even knowing he'd have to double it over to make it thick enough to knit. And that was how the trouble started because doubling it over meant unspooling the whole thing.

And now it's just another thing Eddie has fucked up.

He's not a good Omega, he knows that, he's been told it his entire life; too brash, too loud, too imaginative, not good at cooking and cleaning and organising and all the stuff Omega are supposed to naturally be good at.

Which if he didn't care, then it wouldn't matter, but Eddie wants a pup. Wants one like it's a burning urge inside him. Wants to carry one, wants to make another person who's a part of him. His Omega whines and whines and whines and Eddie wants it. Wants it enough that he tries to be a good Omega; he just always fucks it up.

And that makes it so much worse.

Some of the Omega in senior year are already mated, already walking around with bites proudly displayed on their necks. Fancy Omega with good breeding and nice families who have chosen Alphas for them. Which, sure, Eddie's not sure he'd like to have an Alpha picked for him, but to have a pup of his own? Eddie would put up with a lot.

One girl is already pregnant, everyone congratulating her and celebrating with her; as soon as she started to show Eddie found he couldn't even look at her any more, the envy was eating him alive.

But it'll never be for him.

They're supposed to make pup blankets in Omega class and Eddie can't even afford the fluffy yarn. He's already failed.

And then Eddie nearly shits himself when someone bangs on the driver side window. He's been ugly crying, and he tries to wipe his eyes and snotty nose to see who it is, winding the window down. Steve Harrington; fucking wonderful.

"Hey, man, look, are you, okay?"

"Fine," Eddie answers, clearly not at all fine, one hand smeared in snot and the other wound so tight in the fucked up yarn his fingers are turning white.

Steve sees it, "do you, want a hand with that?"

"I don't think there's any saving it." Eddie says, defeated, but it was unexpectedly decent of Harrington to offer so he tacks on, "thanks."

"I was just here, late, you know, shooting some practice hoops, maybe if we go in the gym we could spread it out, maybe?"

Eddie just stares at him for a minute, because this is the nicest anyone's been to Eddie for ages and it's coming from and Alpha which just makes it that much worse so Eddie just...nods. Finds himself following Harrington into the gym.

They work in silence for a while, and at Steve's suggestion, they do end up cutting the yarn once to make it easier.

"Thankyou."

"No worries man, I knew we could do it, what's it for?"

"Omega studies," Eddie mumbles at the gym floor, "pup blanket"

"Ah, right, that's cool, Why'd you pick it? I like the colours."

And in what universe is Steve Harrington making idle conversation with Eddie Munson, "was all I could afford," Eddie admits, shame faced.

"They make you buy it?" Steve's frowning, "even though it's for a grade?"

Eddie just nods, and then shrugs.

"Oh, well what did your Alpha think?"

Eddie snorts, can't help it, the ridiculousness of it, "I don't have an Alpha," Eddie declares, much more loudly than he'd really ment to.

"Oh. I just figured...I mean you're so pretty. You must get plenty of offers."

Eddie just...stares at Steve. He must have fallen and hit his head, surely. It's the only explanation for what's happening here, Eddie laughs again, "sure, if I want to get on my knees in the bathroom." Which is true, Eddie gets plenty of offers, just not any he'd like to participate in. He's going to loose his virginity to an Alpha who cares for him, in a nest that Alpha built, even if it kills him.

Which it just might, if he goes through another heat alone. He sees the way Wayne looks at him, the worry in his eyes. He knows he's not well, but he's just going to ignore it. There's nothing else to be done.

"Oh," Steve says, he looks uncomfortable but then he ploughs on anyway, "you do smell...well, I...I can tell you're maybe not doing so hot."

Great. Time for Eddie to fucking bail on this. He's hit his limit on Steve Harrington pity for the day.

It's the next day when Eddie finds a paper bag hanging from the windshield of his van. There's five skeins of yarn inside; dark blue, a little sparkly, and the softest thing Eddie's ever felt. He looks around to see who could have done this; across the car park Steve Harrington gives him a shy, two finger wave.

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

Trans Femme-Stevie where she transitions after graduating, so when Eddie holds the broken bottle in her face in the boathouse, he doesn’t recognise her right away…

oh my god!!! thanks for the prompt- this is a great idea!!!!! behold:

-----------------------------------------------

Eddie isn't thinking when someone enters the boathouse he's hiding in. He isn't listening to what they're saying to each other, can't even hear over the pounding of his own heart and his shallow breaths that sound about twenty times louder than they actually are. And when something digs into his side, prodding at him under the tarp he's hid himself under, he definitely doesn't think as he leaps out of his hiding spot, pinning his attacker to the wall with a broken bottle to their throat.

Her throat. His attacker is a girl, apparently, with soft shoulder-length brown waves and pink lip gloss and big, scared-looking doe eyes. Great, he's on the run from people who will definitely think he murdered one sweet, defenceless girl (she was so sweet, and she didn't deserve to go like that), and the first thing he does is threaten another one.

He's still not thinking, really, when he vaguely registers someone else talking, a familiar voice- Henderson? The kid is saying something, something about trusting them, about how they're not here to hurt him- "I swear on my mother, Eddie."

The girl under his hands nods as best as she can with the bottle still pressed to her throat. "Yeah, swear on- swear on Dustin's mom," she says, voice strained and slightly familiar in a way Eddie doesn't have the brainspace to figure out right now.

Eddie looks to Dustin (and is that Band Buckley behind him? And his neighbour? He didn't even know they knew each other), his eyes wide and sincere. And he backs up from the girl. She immediately doubles over, clutching at her neck with a gasp of relief that has Eddie feeling even worse than he already did.

He sends an apologetic look to the girl as he curls back up into himself, mutters a sorry that has the girl waving him off. She shoots him a reassuring smile and a shrug like hey, been there. It would probably work better if she wasn't still rubbing her neck, and if Buckley wasn't patting her shoulder and sending Eddie a death glare over it.

"You're okay, Eddie, it's just me, it's Dustin- and you remember Max, right? Lucas's girlfriend? And that's Robin and Stevie, remember I told you about them? They're my babysitters. Well, Stevie is, Robin's just like, her... I don't know, helper?"

Buckley- Robin rolls her eyes at Dustin, which Eddie can sympathise with. Like, what the fuck, Henderson, he has literally never cared less about who is or isn't his babysitter. Eddie has no idea who Stevie even is, which is weird now that he thinks about it. She's got to be around Eddie's age, and there's only one high school in Hawkins, so he must have seen her at some point. And she is kind of familiar, but Eddie feels like he'd definitely remember seeing this girl around. She's really pretty, soft golden skin dotted with moles, and her shoulders had been firm with muscle when he'd felt them, like she did softball or something.

Actually. Eddie squinted at her a moment. Golden skin. Moles. Droopy, hazel eyes. Muscles. Stevie.

"Wait, Harrington???"

Stevie freezes up again, the same fear returning to her eyes that she'd had when he held a bottle to her throat. Robin glares at him even harder, Max joining in, and even Henderson seems a little defensive.

"Stevie, yeah," she says, voice cool. "Problem?"

Holy shit. "No! I mean- me too! But, uh, opposite."

Stevie's eyes light up, and everyone's jaws drop. "What, really? But- you've always been-"

Eddie nods. "Yeah, since middle school. Remember? I'd just moved to town and I had that buzzcut? My uncle was letting me, like, be a dude and I kind of overcompensated. Worst haircut of my life."

"Holy shit," Stevie whispers, voice full of awe. Eddie can relate.

They both sit for a moment, revelling in the mutual wonder of finally meeting someone even a little bit like them.

And then Dustin ruins it.

"So what happened with Chrissy, Eddie?"

Oh, yeah. He'd almost forgotten this was the worst day of his life.

[anxious-witch]

Sooo, since like, literally three people asked(like I need more enabling lmao) here is a drabble/snippet from poly!JO soulmate au from August. It isn't finished and kinda a kess so read at your own risk, definitely not up to my usual quality.

Tw for alcohol, vomiting, character's drink being spiked (if I forgot anything, please let me know)

Bojan was born with four stripes on his stomach. Yellow, red, purple and blue. It reminded him of a mini rainbow. When he was little he used to trace them. Wondering how it related to his soulmate.

His parents seemed reluctant to tell him. And Bojan didn't understand. Not until his sister pulled him aside one day before he started school and explained. Soulmate marks indicated something about his soulmate, but his was special. Bojan remembered that she specifically used the word special.

Not weird, not odd. Special.

She said that since his has more than one color, it probably means more than one soulmate. That there was nothing wrong eith that, but that he had to be careful since not everyone would understand. 

She told him it was easy enough to cover with clothes, but in case he needed to, she showed him how to hide it with makeup.

Bojan hadn't been seven for awhile now. He was twenty four and he understood much, much better why his sister was so careful about all of it. At best, people with multiple marks were looked down upon. And Bojan didn't always have the best of luck, either.

He wished he could say that the reason he wanted to convince Kris to join the band was purely because of talent. Not that Kris wasn't extremly talented because he was. Bojan was already laying groundwork to ask him to join. And then Kris tied his hair back in a ponytail, revealing his soulmark.

Four stripes. Red, pink, purple and blue. Perfectly lined up. 

Bojan had to swallow past the lump in his throat. Found one of you. 

He didn't want Kris to join the band because of that thiugh. So instead he did his best to charm him. Teasing and laughing and promising. Kris agreed, under the condition that Jan may join too.

"He is my best friend and my soulmate. I am not going anywhere without him."

How could have Bojan refused?

Kris and Jan were polar opposites that somehow managed to work in perfect harmony. Kris charmed you with his cute laugh and politeness, while Jan disarmed you with flirting and downright filthy things he could say with a straight face.

Bojan planned on telling them about his mark. He really did. It was just that everytime he tried, fear of rejection wrapped itself over his chest.

What if they didn't want him? What if it would make things weird? 

He was a coward. He knew as much. He just couldn't bring himself to tell them. 

His mark ached sometimes. Especially when he saw how gently Jan would kiss the mark on Kris's neck, or Kris wrapping his fingers around the one on Jan's wrist. 

Jan made it worse with the way he wore his so openly. Like a badge of honor. Bojan suggested him to put a bracelet or some makeup on it once, to hide it.

He remembered Jan's fury to this day.

"What, do you have something against it? Do you think I should be fucking ashamed of my soulmates?"

Bojan took a step back, raising his hands in a placating gesture.

"No, of course not...I just think it might be wise not to show it off. People get beaten up for less. I don't want to see you hurt."

Jan looked at him for one very long moment. Bojan felt like he was being carved from inside out and examined.

"Let me worry about that. What business of yours is that, anyway?"

Bojan's mark pulsed under his shirt. He resisted the urge to rub the pain away. He shrugged.

"None."

They never spoke of it again. Years passed and Bojan got used to the yearing that came with being so close and yet so far. 

And then Jure came along. Bojan was still sad because of Matic leaving. That's the only excuse he had for not noticing Jure's mark sooner.

It came to a head during summer vacation. Jure joined them at the pool. And on his leg, just under his knee, was a mark. Four strips. Yellow, pink, red and purple.

Bojan heard Kris gasp from somewhere far away. His own mark throbbed underneath the band aid he put on. The lie he said was that he had a scar from surgery that he didn't want to show. Jan teased him for being vain, but no one ever questioned it. 

He and Martin exchanged a glance. Silently agreeing to leave and give them a moment. If Bojan's heart felt heavy or his mark burned, knowing he belonged there too, well. That was only for him to know.

Bojan was running out of excuses. Jure made a perfect new addition to Kris and Jan. While they certainly took some time to find a way to navigate a new configuration, they did work it out. Sometimes Bojan was so jealous he could taste it. 

Which usually meant he got hammered and left with the first person who wanted to take him home and fuck him. 

Other times, he just got hammered and called Luka through Skype. Luka who'd cursed him out and scolded him for being an idiot, but would still try and get him to take care of himself. Made sure he drank water and had a bucket nearby.

That was probably more than he deserved.

"So let me get this straight. Three of your soulmates recently got together. Which disproved your theory about them not wanting you because they are monogamous. Shocker, really. And instead of telling them now, you got hammer."

Bojan raised a finger in the air.

"And made out with a girl at the party in front of them."

Luka pinched his nose. He took a deep breath.

"And made out with a girl in front of them. Great! Lovely! What's the next step in your brilliant, self-destructive plan?"

Bojan shrugged. Luka sighed again.

"You are a menace. But you are also my friend. Which means I want you to be a happy menace. Please tell them."

"I'll think about it."

Luka shook his head and looked at him sadly.

"Sure you will."

---

He didn't end up telling them. In his defense, he really was preoccupied. Few days later, Martin told him he was leaving the band to concentrate on finishing college.

Bojan grieved the loss of another friend, as ridiculous as it sounded. While Kris and Jan loved Martin as well, it was different. They had each other and Jure now.

So Bojan arranged everything for Martin's last concert with them. And looked for the replacement. Which was how he found Nace. 

Bringing Jan along was his first mistake. Perhaps if he hadn't it could have been avoided. 

Nace fit into the criteria to perfectly replace Martin on stage. Jure even joked they looked similar enough that fans won't even notice the difference. Bojan would, though. He wasn't only losing a friend who he worked with since the beginning, but also his last line of defense. 

His mark ached harder than before ever since Jure joined in. 

He and Jan interviewed Nace and it was all going well. Bojan was finally starting to relax, realizing Nace would be a good fit. He was responsible, but knew how to joke still. They did need someone to keep them in check on occasion. And Nace didn't drink. His guitar skills were amazing too. All in all, perfect.

Up until he took off his leather jacket and stayed only in short sleeves. Showing off a soulmark on his right biceps.

Four stripes. Yellow, pink, red and blue. Bojan froze. 

"Nace," Jan said, sounding almost breathless, "is that your soulmark?"

Nace looked at him in confusion. Jan raised his hand to show off his wrist and Nace's eyes widened. 

"You are-"

"Yes. And I have found the other two. You are the forth."

Bojan felt like he was watching a private moment. Nace seems to be at a loss on what to say, simply looking at Jan like he was a miracle.

"So...only one remains."

A lump formed in Bojan's throat. His mark burned viciously. As if it was screaming: I am here!  Bojan got up.

"I'll leave you to settle...um. This. I think we can conclude Nace is a good fit by what was said already anyway. Have fun."

Jan's heavy gaze followed him until he took a turn in the alley, away from the view of the café. 

The next few weeks were torture. Watching them was torture. The way they all balanced each other perfectly. Jure's jokes and pranks contrasted Nace's mature, thought out responses. Kris' anxious energy was match by Jan's always relaxed state. They mixed and matched and still-

God, his mark burned. Bojan had too many moments where he had to excuse hinself and just breathe. Will the pain away. 

They were all there. Missing only one puzzle piece. All he had to do was go there and tell them. Just-

"Bojan?" Nace gently called out, startling him.

He turned from where he was leaning on the sink in the kitch to face him. Nace was always so measured in his movements, in his words. He told that that was because he used to be wild in his teenage years. He appriciated measured, gebtle approach a lot more now. 

"Sorry, I got lost in thought. Did you need something?"

"I just wanted to talk to you, if you have a minute?"

Bojan shrugged, even as his defense mechanisms rose up. Did he know? How would he have even realized? No. Impossible. 

"Sure. Shoot."

Nace's gaze traveled over his face and Bojan had the urge to squirm. All of them were attractive of course, but Nace and Jan had this odd ability to make him feel like they knew all his secrets. Bojan didn't have time to unpack why he was bith terrified and attracted to the feeling.

"I know this whole thing can't be easy for you. With all of us being bonded, you must feel left out. And I am sorry if I contributed to that by joining the band."

Bojan bit his lip. Oh. That was so thoughtful. He felt even more guilty about lying now. 

"It's not your fault. And I'm-I'm glad you guys found each other. It just gets a bit...much, sometimes."

Nace nodded.

"I can imagine. Kris told me you haven't found your own match yet, so it must be doubly hard for you."

God. He could just tell him. Bojan opened his mouth.

"Nace I-"

"Nace!" 

Jure came running, to show Nace a very specific cat video. It broke their moment and Bojan's sudden bravery disappeared.

He didn't tell him.

Which was why he ended up at the bar again. This time, without any of them around. He chatted up a guy who vaguely reminded him of Nace. Accidentally of course. 

It tricked his brain into feeling safe. So Bojan wasn't watching his drink as attentively as he should have.

He only realized his mistake when the room started to spin. Panic gripped him. If he went to the bathroom, he was going to show he was suspicious. But what could he do?

Now, Bojan will admit he wasn't someone who ever studied the soulmate bond. But even he knew about it. In theory. He tried to block in out of his mind most of the timez terrified of exposing himself.

But in his panic and confusion, he found it. He could feel faint flashes of what the other four felt. And he, idiotically, pushed all his fear and panic through the bond. 

The closest way to describe the feeling was smashing the fire alarm. 

Suddenly he could feel all of them. As if they they were reaching out to him. Jan's fierce protectiveness, Kris gentle reassurance. Jure's playfulness was there, even with his worry. And Nace was a warm, stable presence of comfort.

Bojan's phone rang. The guy he was drinking with seemed annoyed, but it gave him an excuse to step away and answer the phone. 

He managed to make it out of the club, to the fresh, cold air. 

"Hello?"

"Bojan, where are you?"

Jan's voice was sharp and urgent. It immediately brought tears to Bojan's eyes.

"At the bar near my apartment. I'm sorry I-I think the guy put something in my drink. Everything is kind of spinning and I swear I only had one drink! Jan, I'm scared."

He heard Jan swearing at the other end, and there was such an intense wave of protectivness that came through the bond that Bojan felt like it wrapped around him. 

"It's okay. We are coming to get you. I will give Kris the phone now, okay? Stay on the line."

"Okay."

He sat on the ground, to get the spinning under control. He was so tired.

"Bojan? Can you hear me?"

"Kris," he sighed contentedly. 

Kris had such a nice, soothing voice. Bojan wanted to fall asleep to him talking.

"Yes, it's me. Can you tell me how are you feeling?"

Bojan hummed, thoughtful. Woth everything they were feeling, it was hard to pinpoint how he felt.

"Tired. Kinda sick? Not like I'll throw up but like I didn't eat something right. And everything is still spinning."

Kris kept talking to him and asking him irrelevant questions just to keep him on the line. Bojan fought against drifting off, but it became harder.

"Kris," he whined, "I am so tired."

He gently shushed him.

"I know sweetheart. Just a bit longer. We'll be there in a minute."

The rest was a blur. He remembered them picking him up and driving him home, but drugs made everything hazy. Last thing he remembered was being put to bed and then everything going dark.

[animentality]

Something I love about Durgetash I don’t see getting talked about a lot is like. The pain Gortash must feel, seeing Durge be a wreck physically and in terms of their memory but also healthier than they’ve ever been, mental and emotionally wise?

Like I feel like he and Durge probably came to the conclusion they were both deeply fucked up, irredeemable pieces of shit. But that’s ok, because they can be fucked up pieces of shit together. Then Durge disappears on him, and comes back with morals and a conscience and a found family holding them accountable and making them be better than they were and like?? Gortash thought that wasn’t possible. He thought they were both unsaveable, unredeemable, unloveable. But here Durge is loved and saved and seeking redemption.

If he took even a moment to confront what that meant he would realize that means he too is redeemable and saveable and lovable, but he can’t be. Not after all he’s done. Not after all this work he’s put in. So instead he tries to pretend things can go back to the way they were. That his Durge hasn’t changed, just come home to him.

I think it would break him to think the Durge he knew was never real, and that the person in front of him that abhors everything that his old friend stood for is the real them.

Anon hi.

do you like the taste of my heart on your blade?

what a gentle way to be massacred.

there's always been something so heartbreaking about Enver Gortash looking upon his former lover and refusing to see that they've changed.

he wants so badly to believe you're the same old you, he denies it every time you tell him you've changed.

he needs you to be the same because otherwise he truly is alone, just as he always feared.

if he accepts that you're different, he's accepted that you've died twice. he knows the pain of losing you twofold.

and it's unbearable, because he couldn't even accept that you died the first time. never allowed himself to feel that grief.

and he thought he got off scot free when he found out you were alive again.

but refusing to accept the truth... ooh that got him, didn't it?

it got him.

it's even worse knowing that the person you were wasn't your true self too.

and it would've been harder to accept that maybe he's not being his true self either, that the child he abandoned long ago in the hells, that scared little boy, is the true Enver Gortash. so he goes to his grave stubbornly denying his own humanity.

and the lynchpin was refusing to accept that the dark urge was more like him than he ever suspected.

that they were as broken as him, but had the capacity to fix themselves.

and in the end, they were stronger than him in every way they could be.

ah. anon.

take your hand out of my chest, please.