#i can't even remember the last time i got a hate comment

[lakemichigans]

you procrastinate making videos cause being judged is scary you're so close to being forgotten the hate's imaginary. kind of a raw ass line tbh

[scarletcomet]

i feel like I'm gonna cry. not for any particular reason other than *gestures vaguely*

[reilemon]

🫧Love Don't Be Shy🫧

♡︎ pairing: Rafayel x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎cw:unprotected sex (as always), there's only one bed, sex toys, pulling out

♡︎word count: 2.9k

♡︎synopsis: Rafayel finds your mini "neck massager" while going through your makeup bag.

♡︎a/n: I hope you guys like how I wrote Rafayel.

♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this

banner by @cafekitsune

A defeated sigh leaves your lips. You have to share the bed with your friend (employee?) Rafayel. You just nod when Rafayel checks with you if it's okay, and of course you agree because you don't want to go around searching for another hotel.

The last time you had to share a room, and the bed, you barely got any sleep as he was tossing and turning all night, stealing the duvet in consequence. You couldn't be too mad at him as you know how messed up his sleep schedule is. Also, he was so sweet for remembering your comment how you wished to see a certain spot at that place.

This time is no different; he organized this little trip for you to make good use of your vacation days. He researched all the restaurants that you'd like, shops that he'd like, fun and interesting places to visit, and always takes the best seats in the airplane. But he always forgets to book two rooms in advance!

It's not that bad, you tell yourself. You're very comfortable around Rafayel; he makes you feel safe and he adores spending time with you. It's just that you have your own night routine. And you can't do it with him in the same room.

Oh well, the vacation will fly by quickly.

Even with this little inconvenience, you wish it won't. Not because you don't want to get back to work, but because you also adore spending time with him. And lately, with every meeting you hope to become more than just friends (more than just an artist and his bodyguard).

⋆ ˚｡⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚｡⋆

After unpacking Rafayel and you go outside to grab a quick bite at the city centre. Of course that turns into an impromptu shopping spree because the two of you stumbled upon a vintage flea market.

You drag your feet as Rafayel almost skips next to you, bags with little trinkets in his hands. It's a beautiful summer afternoon, with a refreshing breeze. You'd enjoy it more if there weren't so many people around.

He glances at your 'energetic' walk. "C'mon Miss Bodyguard, we had a good time there!"

You chuckle. "Sure, if you can call 'talking you out of buying everything you see' a good time."

"But everything was so beautiful!"

"Yes, but think of the luggage!"

He shifts his bags to one hand and offers you the free one with a soft smile. "Give me your hand. I don't want to get lost."

He says that, but he's the one leading you through the crowd.

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You had to take a little nap after coming back to your room, because Rafayel had more things planned for this evening, and you needed the energy. You wanted to look and feel good because you actually looked forward to it. You might've even bought some new outfits that you thought he'd like, even though he gives you compliments no matter how much effort you put into your appearance.

While you were asleep, Rafayel took a long shower.

When you awoke, you found him in your room with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips.

You blush and avert your gaze, opting to just not comment on it. "Are you at least wearing underwear?" You commented on it.

He looks down, like he forgot about his state of almost-undress. "I do. Wanna check?" His hand resting on the towel knot.

Your hand immediately shoots up to cover your view of whatever he's about to show you. "It's fine! I just didn't expect this to be the first thing I see after a nap!"

He laughs and strolls towards the closet. "You saw me in a bathing suit plenty of times. This towel covers more."

You can't help but sneak a peek at his toned back while he's picking out an outfit. For someone who claims to hate working out, he's more than fit. You can clearly see the way his muscles are carved under his pale still damp skin and the way they flex as he moves. As he turns around, you can’t help but crave to graze your hand over his defined abs and those veins leading down to -

"Like what you see?"

Caught red handed, you snap your head in the opposite direction, your face burning with embarrassment.

"I'll go take a shower." You mumble as you snatch your underwear and a nightdress from a drawer and escape to the bathroom, blushing even more as you catch Rafayel's mischievous laugh.

⋆ ˚｡⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚｡⋆

Refreshed, and not at all embarrassed anymore, you emerge from the bathroom to get your makeup bag. You don't know whether to put the outfit on before the makeup, or the other way around...

Your brain short circuits when your eyes land on Rafayel holding your makeup bag in one hand - and your mini vibrator in the other.

He holds it up and studies it "Is this like a mini neck massager?"

You're frozen in place. Your body is discovering new levels of embarrassment.

Hearing nothing from you, his attention shifts to your figure. You don't register the way his eyes admire you in your little nightdress. "Well?" He presses the little button and the little buzzing sound hits your ears like crashing waves of sweat hitting your body.

He's teasing you. He has got to be teasing you. Like he always is. There's no way he thinks this is for his neck!

"Give it back." You croak, your throat dry.

"Why? You don't want to show me how to use it?" He's really going through with this little bit.

"Why were you even going through my makeup bag?"

He explains how he forgot to pack some cream and wanted to borrow it from you, or something like that, you barely listened because he was not letting go of the little bullet vibrator. He's put down the makeup bag, but not the toy!

The buzzing gets stronger as Rafayel's finger presses the button multiple times. "So, which setting is the best?"

He flinches as you basically hurl yourself towards him to take back what's yours. He holds it in the air, away from your reach.

"What's up with you?" his eyebrows knot, cheeks lightly red at the close proximity.

"Give it back!"

Finding your frustration confusing but at the same time cute and amusing, he continues to keep it out of your reach, letting you chase him around the room.

"Nuh - uh!" he laughs and turns to you, only for his face to be met with a white fluffy pillow.

You smacked him across the face, not too hard of course; you're still his body guard. You earn a little 'hey!' with a flushed face and to defend himself, he puts the toy in his pocket and grabs his own pillow. You didn't even notice how good his outfit looked.

The two of you end up in a brief pillow fight - mostly him taking hits while you managed to dodge most of them. But then Rafayel swiftly snatches your pillow, and pins you down on the bed, holding your wrists in his hand and resting his knees on the bed.

He asks, out of breath "Is it not a neck massager?" While you were in a pillow fight he caught on how red your face is and how that shape doesn't seem like it's for the neck.

You struggle under him, aware of how your nightdress lifted under the impact, and how your breasts are on the verge of spilling out. A small whine leaves your lips in frustration as he's so much stronger than you.

"Yes! It's my vibrator, okay?" you can't meet his gaze. You're sure you look so damn pathetic right now.

But you don't see the delight in Rafayel's eyes as he takes in your cute flushed pouting face. He can't help but take a peek of your figure under him, the way your tits are barely covered, the hem of your dress lifted to show off your plush thighs pressed together.

He releases his hold on you and sits back, still straddling you. "Is that why you were upset over one room? You could've just told me and I would've taken a walk or something. Maybe even get you a snack to replenish your energy."

You could not be more mortified. Your eyes are still fixed somewhere to the side and your lips don't move.

His fingers softly hold your chin and you muster the courage to look him in the eyes. You notice how messy his curls are. "There's nothing to be ashamed of." He reassures you with a soft smile, and hands you over the wretched thing.

And you loved that about Rafayel - he knew when to stop teasing and when it's time to give you reassurance.

Still, you needed your little revenge.

It doesn't matter that he's stronger than you, you still have your hunter skills, and in a blink of an eye, you switch positions, straddling his lap.

He opens his mouth to make some dirty joke but only a yelp gets out when you suddenly press the buzzing toy on his side while locking his wrists with your hand.

He pleads for mercy as you continue to run the vibrator on second to highest setting all over his torso.

A blush creeps up on your cheeks, and heat pools between your legs as his whimpers and gasps keep leaving his plump lips and his body squirms under you, his crotch grazing your bottom.

Flustered and out of breath, Rafayel had enough of the torture and pins you down again - pressing you in the same position you had him in, but with his knee so dangerously close to your clothed heat.

"You're being cruel, kitten." he breathes, his tone a little too calm for your liking.

He takes the toy from you and starts sliding it down the middle of your belly, the contact making you squirm and laugh a little. "I was being supportive here and you go and start torturing me."

"I was embarrassed!" you scream between laughs and pants.

He complains in his playful manner about how you attacked him while he was so confused, you can barely hear him over your involuntarily laughs. In your squirms and attempts to break free, your core grinds more than once against his knee and upper thigh.

And maybe he's inching his knee closer to you.

You open your eyes when you don't feel the tickles anymore. You're met with his soft hooded eyes.

"I want to make it up to you, darling."

He studies your face as his hand moves up and a gasp leaves your lips as it lightly grazes the underside of your breast over with the vibrating toy.

He repeats the same motion on the other breast. "Do you want me to stop?"

You sheepishly shake your head.

The grip on your wrists loosens, but you let him hold you down.

Finally, he gives attention to your already pebbled nipples, carefully rubbing circles around them. His eyes take in your flushed face - beautiful lips parted as you pant underneath him, eyes veiled with lust and desperation for more, sensitive nipples poking through the thin fabric of your nightdress.

Your panties are damp with the attention on your nipples and core grinding against his knee. And with Rafayel on top of you, with his cheeks flushed, messy hair and half lidded eyes gazing at you with adoration, you crave more.

He doesn't need to read your thoughts to know what you need. Your hips are desperately pressing against him, soaked panties leaving a wet patch on his pants.

A playful smirk stretches his lips, but he fights the urge to tease you. Instead, his hand trails down, avoiding your tummy this time, and presses the toy on your inner thigh, earning a jolt from your legs and a whimper from your lips. With his slender fingers, he lifts up the hem of your dress, exposing your panties.

You feel his knee move back, but still touching your clothed heat. Pressing the button for the lowest setting, he places the vibrating tip of the toy right between your folds, the familiar sensation of the vibrator making you moan. Only it's different now, because Rafayel is the one pressing it against you, the one making you feel so good, which makes you cream, your heart beating against your chest, your face and chest burning with need and desire.

With more confidence, Rafayel starts pressing and slowly rubbing your sensitive bud. "You like that princess? Does it feel good?"

You frantically nod, your pussy already throbbing with an impending orgasm. "Just like that!" You manage to breathe out.

His cock is painfully hard in his boxers, straining in his tight pants. He feels like he could cum just watching your beautiful face dazed with lust and listening to your sinful moans. Soft pants are leaving his lips "Fuck, you're so beautiful."

He releases your wrists to rest his elbow next to your head and he dips down, latching his lips with yours. You reciprocate immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck, relishing in the feeling of finally tasting his gorgeous pink lips.

Both of you are a panting mess, kissing sloppily, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth as your tongue intertwines with his.

And all of this is becoming too much for you, and you already feel the coil in your stomach is about to snap any second. You snatch the collar of his shirt, probably ripping from how tight you're gripping it. "Don't stop, I'm cummin' - !"

He watches you in awe as you tremble and mewl underneath him, unable to kiss him back as the waves of your release overtake you. His lips latch onto your neck as he uses his thumb and knee to help you come down from your high. His breath is trembling as he sucks and licks the sensitive skin on your neck, his face burning and cock throbbing.

He almost whines in your ear "Please, please princess, I need to fuck you so bad..."

Your fingers interlace with his messy curls and he lifts up his head to meet your eyes. His cheeks and ears are burning red, eyes pleading and hooded with lust.

You softly whisper "I need you."

The same second he hears those words, his working hand frantically works his belt and the pants, a sigh of relief leaving his lips as his hot leaking cock is freed. He wants to take his sweet time with you, worshipping you, but he's already on the brink.

And you're so impatient; you pull your panties to the side and take his cock in your hand and tease the tip against your dripping pussy, the action making the man above you whimper.

"Fuck, princess!" He moves your hand away and squeezes the angry red tip. "Watching you got me so worked up, I don't think I'm gonna last long." He admits with a weak smile.

You pull him into a soft kiss "That's okay, you already made me cum so hard."

He kisses your lips and slowly starts sliding in, a gasp leaving both of your lips. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes squeezed shut as he eases into your sopping cunt.

You bite his delicious bottom lip as he buries himself to the hilt, your walls fluttering around his cock and you feel like you're about to cum again. You release his bottom lip and you move onto kissing his jaw and neck. Fuck, he smells so good.

He stays still as he tries to hold onto his sanity. His hot breath fans over your ear "You're squeezing me so hard, doll."

You wiggle your hips and press his lower back, urging him to start moving. Exhaling a shaky breath, his hips slowly start rolling, yours moving at the same pace. Mewls and moans are leaving your lips, as his cock keeps stroking the sweet spot inside you, glazing his length in your slick.

Rafayel needs to make you cum around his cock, but he’s already so painfully close, with your wet walls squeezing him so hard, your pretty lips on his neck and your bewitching voice in his ear.

He was so captivated by you that he almost forgot about the little toy lying next to you.

Your eyes widen when you see him snatch the toy and turns it on to a higher setting and props himself up, angling his hips to reach your swollen and twitching bundle of nerves. Intense shocks of pleasure take over your body as he starts rubbing the vibrator again, and in seconds you're a whimpering mess as his cock thrusts into you, repeatedly hitting that sensitive spot, and his hand pressing the toy on your clit.

"Raf - I -" Is all you manage to say before another orgasm overtakes you, your breath catching in your throat and for a second you think you're going to pass out. You can barely hear Rafayel's soothing and strained whispers of you how gorgeous you are and how pretty you sound.

But hear him whimper "I'm gonna cum, princess."

He tosses the drenched vibrator to the side and with a squelching sound pulls out of you, and your hips twitch as he presses the tip against your still throbbing clit as he jerks himself off, ropes of hot cum spilling all over your belly and drenched cunt. You’re thankful he pulled up your dress in the process, but you wouldn’t mind if he stained it.

After both of you take a moment to catch your breath, he puts his weight on you and you wrap your arms around his back squeezing him tight.

He peppers you with soft kisses all over your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids. His fingers caress your face.

He chuckles with that playful smirk on his lips. "I should snoop around your stuff more often."

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

Summer breeze

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

Summary: You and Eddie haven't been around each other in a long time since he's been on tour. When he gets back, he decides to take you on vacation.

Warnings: smut, slight angst, hurt/comfort. Established relationships, unprotected sex, and use of safe word. Mild choking. Aftercare. Eddie is a sweet boy in this. No use of y/n, nicknames used (baby, sweetheart, and good girl)

Word count:3.1k

A/n: Not proofread. Please ignore any mistakes. Divider by me. Please comment and reblog to show support. I'm reposting because some parts were missing.

Somtime early morning in Palm Springs.

You awoke to a nice summer breeze on your skin, and your boyfriends arm slumped over your waist. His mouth slightly opened as he whistled a small snore in your ear. You smile to yourself as you watch the sunrise through the sheer white curtains of your hotel room.

Eddie had just gotten back from a very extended tour with Corroded Coffin. This was the first time both of you were away from each other for months and months on end. Most of the time, he'd fly you out to visit him. Since you started up your own business, that wasn't possible this time round.

The two of you agreed that once the extensive tour was over, you would take time off from your work and go on a little vacation together. A much needed break for the both of you. Eddie made sure you knew how much he missed you. Almost every night for over half a year, he'd call you before bed. Sometimes, you would fall asleep with each other on the other line.

Now, here you finally were snuggled up with him as you watched the sunrise. You wanted to wake him up so bad and begin your day sightseeing or lounging by the pool. You glance over your shoulder at him while he sleeps. His hair is wildly spread across the pillow as his various chains around his neck were all tangled up. He looked so peaceful that you couldn't wake him just yet. This was probably the first time he actually slept through the night since leaving on tour.

Carefully removing his arm from your waist and easing yourself out of bed. Tip toeing to the bathroom as you did but not before almost tripping on his discarded jeans next to the bed. Quickly looking up at him, you curse quietly to yourself. He's still sprawled out on the bed, snoring away, or so you thought.

"Hey, where are you going?" His low raspy voice calls out for you. You giggled at his sleepy voice that he hates so much.

His eyes are still heavy from sleep, and his hair is even wilder than you thought. He lets out a low groan as he stretches. His joints popping loudly

"I'm just going to get ready." Shaking his had he pulls the covers back slapping the mattress.

"Nuh uh c'mere." He motioned for you to get back in bed. a boyish grin spreading across his face. You can't even see his eyes from the mess of his bangs hanging lower than last time you saw him.

You thought about it for a moment and decided to rejoin him in bed. You ran and jumped back under the covers, laughing while he wrapped his arms around your body.

The pair of you missed being cuddled up in eachothers arms. This vacation is going to be two weeks long, and there is plenty of time to explore your surroundings. Staying in bed for a few more hours wouldn't kill you.

Around 1 p.m., your alarm rang.

You woke up again to the cool breeze on your skin. Only this time, you were alone, no sight of Eddie anywhere. Frowning, you remembered he did have a few meetings he had to do on your first couple of days here. Not knowing how long they would be. You gaze at his pillow, seeing a tiny daisy left there for you with a little note.

"I'm sorry I couldn't be there to see you wake up. I have some business to take care of. then after I'm all yours. - Eddie."

You smiled, reading the note and smelling the flower he left for you. You hurriedly got out of bed. you decided maybe visiting the hotel pool would be a nice way to relax until he got back. You ran and put on your bikini, packing your tote back with the essentials you'll need.

Spending the next couple of hours down by the pool lounging got boring after a while. You tried reading and listening to your Walkman. Nothing seemed to help cure it. The only thing on your mind was Eddie.

How you missed the way he would hold you. His dumb jokes he'd wake you up in the middle of the night to tell you. You missed his smell and how soft his lips were against your skin. How he carefully took his time with you. The way he'd make you cum over and over again. You needed him. That longing feeling taking over you has become too overwhelming. Nearly to the point you're on the verge of tears.

You just want him. All of him.

Jumping up from the beach chair, you hurriedly make your way back to the hotel room. You practically run through the lobby to the elevator, hoping he's there by now. Much to your surprise, he is, and a sigh escapes your mouth when you see him. He's standing by the couch in the living area, taking a puff of his cigarette. He notices you staring at him and smirks before looking you up and down.

Licking his lips, "Hey baby, what you been up to?" His voice low and sultry.

"Just waiting for you to get back, so I decided to go to the pool." You pointed over your shoulder.

He hums as he takes another drag of his cigarette. There is so much sexual tension growing thicker between you two. The way he keeps looking you up and down while he smokes, practically eye fucking you. You try to make small talk with him, but he just keeps staring you down. Almost like a predator hunting for its prey. The thought sends a shiver of excitement down your spine.

"C'mere baby." He motions for over for you to come closer.

You do as you're told and go to him. He bites his lower lip and puts out the rest of his cigarette. He pulls you in even closer to him and wraps his arms around your middle. Bringing his hands down to your ass, squeezing softly, giving it a light few taps.

"When did you get this little thing?" He took one of his hands away from your ass to tug at your bikini top.

You look down, "I've always had it."

"Hmm, have you?" Eddie eyebrows raised in amusement. His playful tapping turning into a harsher grip.

All you could do was nod, feeling the wetness pooling between your legs.

Eddie leans down closer to your ear.You bite your lower lip and gasp when you feel him grip your ass painfully tighter. You grasp onto his shoulders for leverage, trying not to stumble as you're practically on your tip toes now. You let out a small whimper, and he loosens his grip on you. Eddie hooks a finger under your chin, making you look up at him. His eyes blown out with lust.

"Lets go to bed." His voice is deep and husky by your ear.

Nodding your head again slowly as your mind struggles to form any words.

You swallow dryly. "Okay."

Eddie takes you by the hand and leads you to the bedroom. The sun is setting now, giving it a nice orange glow. You stand before him as he gazes down at you. You look up at him, waiting for his next move.

He reaches behind you and pulls the strings to your bikini top slowly, letting it fall to the floor. Your nipples harden instantly as the cool air hits them. You move your arms to cover yourself, but he stops you.

"Don't hide from me." Eddie gently commanded.

You listen, moving your arms back down. He goes to undo your bikini bottoms, letting them fall to the floor with your top.

He mumbled rubbing his hard cock over his jeans, "You're so goddamm sexy."

Eddie sits back on the bed, bringing you to straddle him. Your lips instantly attacking his in a feverish kiss. He tastes like cigarettes and mint. you can almost cry at how much you've missed his taste. You begin grinding against him, your clit rubbing on his prominent buldge straining in his jeans. Rubbing yourself on him back and forth, a moan escapes your lips. You've been waiting so long to have him, and now he's here. Removing his mouth from yours, he kisses down your jaw and neck.

"I need you, now." Your voice is coming out much needier than you expected.

"Lay back for me, sweetheart." His husky voice mumbled against your throat. "Be a good girl."

You look at him, licking your lips."I'm always your good girl."

"You sure are, baby." He chuckled at your response, knowing how much you loved it when he called you that."You suuuuure are." He drawls.

Eddie didn't hesitate after that. Hearing you beg for him made his cock rock hard. he couldn't wait to bury it deep inside you. He quickly strips himself of every piece of clothing he had on. His cock springing free when yanks down his boxers. You move up closer to the headboard, laying back against the soft pillows. He makes his way up the bed, crawling his way to you.

He settles himself in between your legs, and you spread them open wider for him. He strokes his cock up and down a few times, pumping it lazily. Your breathing becomes heavy with anticipation. His cock has always been intimidatingly big. Eddie always made sure to get you nice and warmed up before taking him. This time, though, he didn't do much of that. There was no foreplay. you didn't mind it at first. Since you were both so desperate to have one another. Your lust and desires clouding your judgments.

"Eddie, please, I need you inside me." You kept begging him.

He bit his lip, muttering something under his breath. "Fuck, I really have missed you baby."

He looks up at you through his lashes and without warning he's lines his cock at your entrance thrusting all the way inside you. You let high-pitched moan and squeeze your eyes shut tight. Eddie doesn't stay still for long he grabs your hips harshly and begins pulling almost all the way out and slamming back into you.

Your mind going foggy as Eddie's cock splits you open. He's thrusting into you harder and faster. His hips slapping into yours roughly. You grip his biceps, digging your nails into his skin. Your pussy is making a loud squelching noise as he pumped his harder cock in and out of you. Your slicks dripping down your ass and soaking his length.

"S-so fu-cking tight," He grunted, throwing his head back as he plunged his cock harder in your pussy.

"... And wet–Jesus christ, you're making a mess on me."

Your back arches up "Mmmfph – eddie," you moan. "Don't stop."

The tip of his cock rubbing against your g spot the deeper he pushes inside you. You were moaning and writhing underneath him. Calling out his name every time slammed back into you. Every plunge of his cock felt like he was going in deeper. Your bodies slapping together

After a while, your pleasure was starting to feel more like pain. His movements were only getting rougher, and he didn't seem to be slowing down anytime soon. There was a slight stinging sensation between your legs, which was becoming more prominent.

Your breathing became heavier as anxiety started taking over. Eddie, without thinking, put his hand to your throat squeezingly only lightly to your pressure points. Tears prickled your eyes as you tried your best to ignore the growing pain between your legs.

You didn't want to use your safe word, but in this situation, it just wasn't feeling good anymore. You've never used it before and were scared to it, even though Eddie has always encouraged you to if it became too much. The bed rocking against the wall harder made you aware of how fast he was really going, — you wouldn't be surprised if there was damage done or if the bed broke. Looking up at him, he doesn't really seem to be focusing on much of anything else, but how good you feel. His eyes squeezed shut, and his mouth hanging open. His cheeks flushed pink. His hips slammed into yours at a bruising pace.

You felt guilty for doing this, but you have no other choice. His thrusts are becoming too overwhelming for your liking, and his hand on your throat is now squeezing just a tad bit harder. Your moans were now chokes and quiet sobs. He didn't even notice. Eddie was too caught up in how good your walls felt clenching around him.

"Eddie." You whimpered quiely, but he didn't hear you.

"Oh fuck I'm gonna cum." He managed to groan out.

"r-red," you quiely choked out, but he kept pumping into you. His hips smacking into yours as he only sped up even more. Chasing his own high, assuming you were getting close too. You started to panic, and the pain was getting worse now. Your anxiety kicking into overdrive.

"RED!!!" Your voice manged to scream out, and Eddie haulted his movements instantly. His face falls. His eyes are full of worry as he removes his hand from your throat immediately. Carefully and gently, he pulls out, causing you to hiss at the sting. He winced seeing the pain on your face.

"Baby, what's wrong?"— "Are you okay?"Talk to me, please."He was pleading with you to just talk to him. Tell him anything at this point. There was so much concern in his tone.

All he cared about was knowing if you were alright.

Eddie voice rang in your ears over and over again. Finally, you let out a sob covering your face with your hands. You felt embarrassed and ashamed. Eddie, on the other hand, was trying his best to soothe you. He goes to move your hands from your face, but you slap them away. You refuse to look at him, turning your body from him. Your reactions to his care were purely instinctual. You know he'd never go out of his way to cause you pain like this on purpose.

He just sits there desperately wanting to tend to you but also terrified to touch you. You laid there crying, trying to calm down and get your breathing under control. You take a deep breath and sit up, bringing the blanket to cover yourself.

"What's wrong? You gotta tell me!" Eddie urged with so much panic in his voice. He was trying to keep it together, knowing you needed him more right now.

"It hurt....i-it was too much." You stammered, swallowing the lump in your throat. You turned on your back keeping yourself under the blankets.

Eddie hesitantly goes to wipe away the tears from your face. You don't flinch or smack his hands away this time. He let out a shakey breath before speaking again. He couldn't believe he didn't notice you weren't enjoying yourself. Your small whimpers of pain replay in his head now, making him feel like such a bad boyfriend. How could he possibly not have noticed his girl was in pain? The thought has him wanting to be sick.

"I'm so so sorry I didn't mean to you hurt you." His voice cracks as he fights back tears of his own. "What do you need from me, baby?"

"It's okay. I'm okay." You reassured him, but he shakes his head.

"No you're not...I'm so fucking horrible." He said running a hand down his face and through his hair.

"You're not horrible, Eddie. we both just got too caught up."

"I'm so sorry." He repeated again, bringing your hands to his mouth as he kissed them.

"Please forgive me sweetheart you know I'd never harm you in this or any way ever."

"I know it's okay. We should just take it slow like we usually do." Your hand goes up to caress his face. A small smile slowly appeared on his lips. He took your palm, giving it a gentle kiss of reassurance.

"I should have taken my time with you, baby." Eddie sighed deeply, still riddled with guilt.

You wiped away the last remaining tears from your eyes. "I just– I need that warm-up, you know?"

"Yeah." He cleared his throat. He understands where you're coming from. Eddie was selfish earlier, and for that, you paid the price.

God, he still can't get your voice yelling your safe word from his mind. He wanted to break down and bawl his eyes out. He wanted to wait on your hand and foot until he was for sure you were completely fine.

There was a long calming silence in the room now. Eddie was trying to figure out what to do next. He, let's go of your hands and brought you in for a hug. He lets out a breath of relief that you're not pulling away from him.

"Wanna cuddle?" He pulled back to look at you and examine your neck where his hand used to be. You reached up, brushing back his bangs.

"Can we?" Your face lighting up.

"I'll do whatever you want me to." He moves to curl up next to you and shuts off one of the lamps on the table. He wraps you up nice and tight in your blanket. "Did you want to order room service and watch something funny?"

You wiggled around in his hold, getting yourself comfortable. "Only if you order me the biggest burger on the menu."

"Ahh, a giant burger it is, and maybe something sweet too?" Eddie leaned over to kiss your temple.

"Definitely want that too...and I want to watch something spooky not funny." You grinned over your shoulder at him.

He shook his head. "Alright, alright, ginormous burger, ice cream, and a horror movie." Eddie pauses for a second, rubbing your side in a soothing way, "anything else you might want?"

"Nope, that's all." You teased, reaching around to pinch his side. He laughed and jerked away.

"Wait! and cuddles." You added lastly.

The sun has finally set, and the room is now covered in darkness except for the TV playing a scary movie of your choosing. Your food is sitting on a tray across your laps. Every other second, he stopped eating to ask if you're really okay. To which you reminded him you're fine and you were just overwhelmed earlier.

Eventually, he stopped asking and opted to cuddle you close to him. He didn't ever want you to feel unsafe with him. The nice summer breeze blows on your skin as Eddie holds you tight against him. Your vacation may have started off on a bad foot, but Eddie was determined to make it up to you.

"I love you, sweetheart." He whispered in your ear, giving your cheek a loving kiss. "You're always safe with me."

"I love you too."

[krypticcafe]

Okay so we’ve got the boys reacting to being called babygirl, but how would their partner react to being babygirlified??

When they call you babygirl (COD:MWII)

rating: mature

character(s): GN!Reader, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, John "Soap" McTavish, Simon "Ghost" Riley, König, Gary "Roach" Sanderson, Hound

warning(s): language, suggestiveness, angst, a smidge of a graphic injury, general military violence, no beta read haha

a/n: reminder to all my gn and masc readers that I'm using babygirl in a gender-neutral context and so is the reader!! Also, I can't guarantee that it'll all be lighthearted as the last part but I can guarantee y'all eatin good tonight :)))

Previous

Gaz

Funnily enough, he purrs it out when you come to bed after a long day of work, pulled into his side the moment you laid down.

"How's my babygirl doing? Good, yeah?"

You're stunned, surprised at the fact that he even used it at all.

He's amused by your reaction and presses a soft kiss to your head, making a mental note to use it more often like this.

Like him, you try not to fall too into the feeling, but he already knows the effect on you.

Luckily for you, he doesn't abuse it, but almost torments you with it, using it in private or a soft tone that only you can hear.

But you like it. It's intimate, a little special in how he uses it to get you smiling or flustered. Much like a lot of other aspects of your relationship, it's something you can trust him with and be respectful about.

Most of the time, you'll find him using it on a sleepy morning, arms around your waist with his chest against your back and his face nestled on your shoulder blade, mumbling a "mornin'" or a "how'd you sleep last night?"

For him, it's best when he can get real close to you and just pour his affections out with that simple little nickname.

He watches you stumble out of bed while he pours a cup of coffee for the two of you and smiles innocently when he offers it.

"Sleep well last night, baby-"

"You are so damn lucky I love you." You warn, taking the cup and rolling your eyes when he laughs.

Don't worry, he knows he's one lucky bastard.

Price

"Atta soldier, how's my babygirl holding up?"

He's watching proudly from afar while you finish pummeling through a group of enemies like it's nothing.

"Doin' alright Captain, we're clear to push on." You respond with confidence.

But you don't tell him that his comment through the comms alone nearly threw you off your rhythm.

He uses it again when you're all at the pub celebrating another landmark success, subtly bragging while half-drunk about how you carried the team today.

A part of you is mortified not just because Price tends to open up a little too much when he's drunk, but also because you hated the fact that you liked hearing him call you that in the first place, how you didn't need a drink for your mouth to get dry and your face warm. Not to mention it was in public—practically a declaration that you belonged to him.

Not that you minded.

His grip grows firm on your side while he speaks with admiration, your face grows warm since one, he was calling you that in front of so many others, and two, he didn't just hand out praise to anyone so when he meant it, he really meant it.

Later when you're both headed to your shared quarters, he asks, "So were you havin' a fever earlier or..?"

Of course he noticed.

You explain to him it just caught you off guard, that's all. Especially when he says it in such a way.

In the back of your head, you hoped he'd be too drunk to remember this in the morning but knowing him...

"I see... well then, we'll just have to put that to the test tonight, won't we?"

You have no objections.

Soap

"There's my babygirl, been lookin' for that smile since we been back."

After a particularly rough mission, Soap had been glued to your side for the past hour or so, talking it out with you.

When a particularly dumb joke of his finally cracked you, that's when he said it.

You groan, still laughing while leaning your head into his shoulder, muttering about how "irresistibly insufferable" he could be sometimes.

"So you admit I'm irresistible?"

That gets him a lighthearted punch on his chest and some more hearty laughter out of the two of you.

You now find him using it here and there to get a smile out of you. He's got an eye for when you're a little more tense or stressed than usual.

He doesn't use it in excess either, he's sweet and soft about it, not as casual with the pet names as some would think.

Oh, but don't take it for granted because he can and will tease you. You like to blame him for your ability to keep your guard up for so long and for his ability to somehow find new ways to break it again and again.

And while you think it's a horribly corny pet name, you know he has nothing but good intentions, and you can't ignore the way it makes your heart flutter.

He loves it too, he's a sucker for giving and receiving cheesy nicknames, stuff that really gets a reaction out of you but doesn't cross the line.

"If you don't like it, then why dinnae you give me a different thing to call you?" Cue the McTavish SmirkTM, and you wonder what he has planned this time. And like how you got yourself into this relationship- you decide to humor him.

"You already call me 'love' and 'sugar', I don't think you need any more to torment me with, McTavish."

"I don't know... I'm thinkin' 'my fiancé' sounds pretty damn good."

"But I'm not your-"

Oh.

Oh.

Ghost

You're thrown into the air and onto the ground after a blast hits, one so loud that you're left hearing nothing for several seconds.

Out of the chaos, you hear Ghost call your name, and you try to stand only to fall back into a pair of arms.

"It's me- it's me." He lowers you down onto his lap and looks over you, "Fucking hell... what did they do to you?"

You realize what he's talking about when you try to hold yourself while gasping for breath, but find a cold metal rod jutting out of your abdomen.

"Okay, I'm gonna get you up, we're gonna get to the others-" He halts when you scream out in pain and lowers you back down.

"Nonono- please Simon, it hurts, it fucking hurts so much I can't-"

His heart breaks at the sound of you choking on words, holding you closer, and trying to reassure you (and himself because he's never had his heart pounding so hard and his mask feel so damn suffocating and god dammit he can't afford to lose someone again-)

"I know, I know, I got you babygirl, I got you. It's alright now, but I'm not leaving you like this. You're gonna be alright, it's gonna be okay."

You can only nod your head, tightening your hold around his neck when he carries you. It feels pathetic every time you let out a yelp or sob of pain, but Simon's patient, he's constantly giving you reassurance and letting you know that there's just a bit more left to go. At some point, you let exhaustion take over your body.

Thankfully, you wake up laying in an infirmary bed, with a sleepless Simon at your side. "How are you feeling?" He asks.

"Could be better," You cringe at how hoarse your voice is and thank Simon when he gives you a cup of water, "You seem worse than me to be honest."

"Yeah? 'n whose fault is that? Oh right, the one who took a pipe to the stomach."

Rolling your eyes, you try to remember the last things you saw before blacking out and smirk to yourself when it comes back to you.

"So, since when were you a "babygirl" type of guy? Is it a common thing in Manchester, or are you just that soft for me, Lieutenant?"

"Maybe I should've just left you there." He groans, and you scoff, laughing as you shove at him. Even if he's shit with words, you know deep down he would never have the guts to do so.

Only a fool would.

König

Let's be honest, he'd only really say it after you've said it to him.

You don't push him, knowing he just has trouble trying to get a natural feel for it and it's not a huge deal. Plus, you already adore all the other names he's given you, most of which are more familiar and natural for him to say with them being in his native language.

Unfortunately, one night at the bar, you find someone else directing the particular nickname at you.

"Hey babygirl, what's a cutie like you doing all alone here?"

But fortunately, you were in fact, not alone.

Konig rises from the barstool behind you and his height alone should have the person pissing their pants.

"You should mind whose 'babygirl' you're talking to, arschloch."

You know what? Close enough.

You turn back to check on König and wow, that. Is. A. Sight.

König's chest rises and falls with his aggravated breathing and you find yourself lost in how intense his glare is while he watches the person scamper away. His words are on a loop in your head with how the rasp and snarl in his voice have your stomach twisting and your heart running laps.

You'd never admit it to him, but you have to repress all of your urges whenever he gets like this on the battlefield. Christ.

"You alright?" You breathlessly sigh, wrapping a hand around his.

His tension instantly melts at your touch and you smile at that.

"I should be asking you that..." He murmurs, almost ashamed as if he had any reason to be.

"Oh I'm more than fine now."

An idea comes to you.

"I'd be even better if you can tell me what you just said to them, perhaps in private? I don't think I can hear with how noisy it is in here" You snicker, tugging him closer.

You just absolutely know he's burning under that hood when his eyes go wide.

"I'm just kidding, liebe," you chuckled, taking another sip of your drink, "But honestly? That was kinda hot. Whaddya say we get outta here and cuddle tonight?"

His response is a quick and eager nod, making you laugh and whisk him away to your quarters.

Roach

Ah if only you weren't such a curious soul.

You overheard some of your teammates call each other "babygirl", which made you wonder if there was a sign for it.

You blurted out this question to your boyfriend, not thinking much of it because, hey, you always asked him about signs you weren't sure of or hadn't quite learned yet, or in this case, pure curiosity.

He stares at you dumbfounded before signing the words.

"Oh, so it's literally just 'baby' and 'girl'?"

He nods, "Yeah. What, do you want me to start calling you that or something?"

He lets out stifled laughs when he sees the look of realization on you before you throw your burning face in your hands.

"I'm a damn idiot."

"I know you are."

You nearly strangle him for that comment.

You make him forget about the conversation, but he keeps the thought in the back of his head for future reference because oh you are so gonna regret this >:)

After a mission, he comes up to you and asks, "How'd it go? My babygirl didn't get too roughed up this time, did you?"

"No, I'm good, wasn't a huge bust-" You stop organizing your gear right then and there, mentally replay what he signed, and slowly turn your head, narrowing your eyes at him. "-you little shit! I told you forget about that!"

"But you like it, don't you? You're trying so hard not to smile right now!" He gushes.

"Sanderson, I'm gonna kill you!" You run after him, chasing him around before tackling him down to the ground.

"I could get used to this." He muses, "Maybe you should call me babygirl, kinda suits me too. Oh! We should get matching patches, don't you think?"

"..."

"Wait where are you going—"

Hound

This time, you had been separated from your team for days after a mission had gone horribly wrong, with no way to communicate otherwise you'd all be jeopardized before you could be rescued.

You didn't even know if there was a rescue.

Just your luck, an enemy had you cornered with the audacity to use your own gun against you. And it was your last one, too. You brace for impact only to see them get knocked out while a voice called out your name.

It was Hound. They immediately run up to you, checking you all over, hands hovering around you worriedly, "Did he hurt you? Christ, they told me that you'd be in danger if I went but shit, how am I supposed to wait when—"

They stopped the moment you began to tremble, instantly pulling you into a tight embrace, and tucking your head in their shoulder.

"Hey hey, c'mere, it's okay. I'm here now, you're gonna be alright, it's okay." He softly repeats, and you weep in relief. "Oh babygirl... they can't hurt you anymore, I promise."

It was warm and safe.

You were warm and safe.

Hound spends the evening tending to you (you told them they didn't have to, it wasn't like you had major injuries), doing your paperwork for you, getting you food, and cleaning you up.

But all you want is to get your mind away from the events of the past few days, a distraction to feel good, feel safe, and feel loved, and he happily complies with your every need for the night.

"Figured you'd need some help after last night... sorry about that." They sheepishly mumble.

You wake up the next morning in your shared quarters, sore but in a pleasant way. The door opens and it's none other than your partner with a plate from the mess hall.

You pull them down for a quick kiss and thank them, telling them not to worry about it as you take the plate.

"You need anything else babygirl, or-"

You choke on a piece of scrambled egg, and they're already rubbing your back, holding back laughter.

"Whoops, should've waited until you were done, I didn't think you'd get so- I mean I thought after last night—" He's practically giggling now and while you'd normally relish in such a rare sight, you whine at him.

"But seriously, if you need anything, I'm there in a heartbeat."

You nod and thank whatever higher being out there for such a patient partner.

a/n pt2: hope the ghost and hound bbygirls enjoyed the "creative liberties" I took because I know I did teehee- anyways lmk how y'all feeling after that :)))

[pedgito]

hi! would u ever be comfortable writing about eddie's uncut cock? if not, it's totally fine. hope ur having a great day! <3

author’s note: funny you ask, because yes, absolutely. and look, i know people have varying opinions but let me be a whore in peace with my own nsfw headcanons, i don’t care what others think about eddie’s dick because this is just what sits in my brain. this was meant to be a small blurb so ignore the lack of form that i usually keep.

cw: 18+ (minors dni) obviously lots of dick talk what else do you expect, talks of self-exploration/masturbation, eddie dealing with some body issues pertaining to the topic in the ask, handjobs, oral (m receiving), i don’t apologize for any of this.

word count: 1.4k

eddie doesn't realize how uncommon it is until the reactions become the same and frequent, eventually forcing eddie to hate any kind of sexual interaction outside of himself for a while—he knows it's not a big deal, but the judgey looks and offhanded comments about how weird it was didn't make him impenetrable. it was always there in the back of his mind.

but eddie has always been about self-exploration, maybe to an unhealthy degree as he got older, interacted with girls less, buried himself into hellfire club and his side business of dealing—he usually kept interaction to a minimum, which wasn't hard when most of the school despised him.

and he can't imagine how anything could be better, his dick laying heavy against his belly as his fingers dragged up under his balls, touching delicately, almost teasing in a way before he gripped himself forcefully, tugging down until the head peeks past the skin in all of it's glistening glory, precum smeared over the slit as he slides back up, squeezing the head between his thumb and forefinger under the foreskin.

he thought being this sensitive was normal, but he was proven wrong time and time again. he's learned over time and through a lot of experience how to hold himself back, squeeze himself at the base to keep himself from coming too early or letting go completely, occasionally trying the tactic of squeezing the head until the feeling fades, it works wonders, but still, it doesn’t prepare him for the real thing—he's embarrassed when he's coming in the hands of some beautiful girl he sat next to in english class at the beginning of his first senior year, only some unrhythmic strokes of her hand and her thumb rubbing over the head of his cock before he's there, spilling over her hand without warning.

and when he’s really eager and seeking the relief, he's quick, knowing just the ways to touch himself, how sensitive the head of his cock can get under the skin and he's there before he can even process, groaning through clenched teeth.

he meets you somewhere between the beginning of his hopefully last year of school and the few weeks before then end of '85—he doesn't understand how you came into his life, telling himself how he surely manifested you, that there's no possible way you were real.

regardless, eddie's is riddled with nerves the first time you touch him, making some off-handed comment about how not pretty his dick is, hoping it isn't a total deal breaker.

you can't help but look at him, eyes wide but your gaze scewed, confused on why any of that would matter. you can't remember the last time you've found that to be a dealbreaker.

when you finally get his pants down, sneaking your fingers into the waistband of his boxers until his dick springs free, you realize just how dramatic eddie was being about the whole thing, having been fed some idea that uncut dicks weren't as acceptable as the contrary and it's a shame, because if it isn't the prettiest dick you've ever seen, arguing his earlier statement with a quick quip that has eddie laughing through his nervous blush.

"eddie—i don't say this to too many guys, none actually," you glance up at him briefly before trailing your fingers along the hard ridge of his abdomen, barely grazing him, "your dick is very pretty."

"careful," eddie warns with a grin, teeth peeking through slightly, "you'll give me an ego."

eddie watches you wearily, your eyes taking in the full sight of him as your fingers wrap around the shaft, the soft velvety texture of his skin pressing against your palm and fingertips.

his thick, not so much that it's intimidating but he fills out your hand in the best way and somewhere between seven and eight inches, the head of his cock a deep pink that slightly contrast the softer shade of his skin and you're pulling the skin back to rub your thumb over the tip, earning a hiss from eddie in response.

"sensitive?" you ask teasingly, smiling at eddie's reaction before you repeat your previous movements, circling his head with a torturous pressure that has eddie gripping the pillowcase above his head, chin tilting down slightly against his chest to look at you, his eyes squeezing shut momentarily as the feeling becomes too much.

"okay, okay," he rushes out, "maybe ease up on that unless you want—want this to be over in the next five seconds."

he's right, so you relent, continuing the slow drag of your hand as you gauge his reactions, the easy glide that the skin creates until you're leaning forward to lick a stripe along the underside of his dick, tracing along the faint vein that ran there before you’re practically drooling over him, the mix of your spit and his own precome making it more overwhelming before you're closing your mouth over him completely, keeping the same pace of your hand as your mouth hollows out around the tip.

eddie feels like he might die, but he's fully accepting it.

"oh fuck—shit, that's so much better than—" eddie rambles mindlessly, "never—never had anyone suck my dick before."

which is a shame, because it's easily becoming your favorite thing.

"can't see how," you reply as your bottom lip drags along the ridge of his blushed tip, “but i guess that makes me lucky.”

“just—girls always looked at me strange, said it was weird,” eddie comments, “like i have any control over that, guess my parents have always been destined to fuck me over, even from birth.”

you laugh along with him, his rambling thoughts slipping past his lips and filling the quiet lull of the air.

you were so thankful eddie wasn’t the type to stay quiet, because while his sounds were torture, the way his voice cracked with every few words was even better. you let him talk as much as he pleased until he physically couldn’t, his fingers slipping over the top of your head and into your hair, squeezing lightly as your shifted your hand up, skin slipping back over the head as you pressed your tongue over the small glimpse of his slit that was still visible, moaning softly as he tugged a little harsher, mumbling something under his breath you couldn’t make out.

“can’t wait to have you inside me,” you confess, his eyes lighting up as they connected with yours, “don’t ever want you thinking anything negative about yourself again, either—it’s not true.”

eddie nods slightly, “fuck—can’t say stuff like that with my dick in your mouth, sweetheart.”

you prod further, breath ghosting over his dick as you spoke, “why?”

eddie groans quietly, speaking through gritted teeth, “really need you to stop unless you’re okay with me coming in your mouth—i’d hate—hate to do that without asking.”

your teeth drag along your bottom lip, biting at the skin briefly.

“is that you asking?” you giggle softly, stopping briefly with skin pulled back to take him into your fully and fast, earning a choked gasp from eddie.

eddie nods again, more needy, “uh huh—yes, yes—god, please—“ and it’s only a few seconds later that he’s spilling into your mouth, his own hand wrapping around his shaft to pump it quickly, swatting your own hand away, salty slick pooling over your tongue in spurts, the warm liquid wouldn’t be as enticing if it wasn’t for it being from eddie—and you wouldn’t dare let a man come in your mouth like this, but eddie had earned that right.

you pull back slowly, swallowing for show as eddie squeezed at his dick, thumb rubbing over the head tenderly as his body jerked slightly with aftershocks.

“i’ve never—“ eddie sighs heavily, catching his breath, “never came that hard, holy fuck. i’ve always been sensitive but jesus—“

“i guess that’s quite the perk then,” you tease, crawling back up the slowly until your clothes cunt is pressed over his slowly soften dick, “amongst others.”

“you sure it doesn’t gross you out?” eddie asks curiously, having been programmed to always think it does, needing to hear the words for reassurance.

you grind the soft fabric cover your hips over his cock, feeling the subtle pressure it applies and watching eddie wince from the overstimulation, chucking weakly.

“positive.” you smile, leaning forward to press a sweet kiss against his lips, quickly turned dirty from eddie’s obvious impatience, his tongue slipping into your mouth to taste a mix of you and himself, the tanginess strange but welcoming as you moaned into his mouth openly.

“about being inside you—“ eddie starts, speaking softly against your lips, “can i take you up on that?”

“i thought you’d never ask.”

and it’s safe to say that eddie never doubts himself again, learning just how beautiful every piece of him is.

[amaranthineghost]

ahh!! i think i speak on behalf of a lot of people when i say i need a part two, because that was so amazing and so beautifully written 🫶🏻🫶🏻

| I CAN'T NOT HAVE YOU, I'LL TRAVEL THE SOLAR SYSTEM TO MEND OUR STARS ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairings: lando x reader

ꕥ parts: 1

ꕥ tagging: @gulphulp

ꕥ summary: they hadn't seen each other in months after their breakup, which left them in more misery than they thought. because now they'll do anything to make it work.

ꕥ authors note: I've been planning this in my head while writing the first part to this and i really like how this came out! going to work on christmas imagines and also finish up a request that I've been meaning to write!

ꕥ warnings: smut (at the end if you don't want to read that part), heavy angst (wanted to break some hearts), mentions of alcohol abuse and heavy drinking, mentions of eating struggles. not proofread the end.

IT'D BEEN MONTHS. months since he last abandoned her in their old apartment. since he drove off in his mclaren, punched the rearview mirror because he couldn't take it. to this day, he regretted it with every fiber of his being. he tried to convince himself for days on end, it was for the better. but was it really?

he was struggling. he couldn't sleep properly, staring at the dark ceiling, feeling beside him in the bed for another warm body, breaking his heart more every time he reminded himself that she wasn't here. it was cold.

it was cold despite the blistering summer heat of monaco, windows open to let in the heat. max swore at him every time because despite being rich, he was letting out cool air. but lando couldn't stand the cold. without her, his heart was frigid.

it worsened as the months grew colder and races passed him by. he was peforming fine, for now, but he'd reach his limit soon enough.

he hated when the air got bitterly frozen because this year, he wouldn't have her. he wouldn't have the heat that radiated off her to keep him warm.

he'd waste himself away with alcohol to forget the memory of leaving her. it turned his stomach in knots everytime to think of her watching him leave because they didn't know what to do to fix them. he wish he knew, he should've.

more often than not, he'd spent his nights on bathroom floors of the club, puking his guts out into the toilet, or sitting on the kitchen floor belonging his temporary roommate, max fewtrell. he sat against the tiled floor and wooden cabinets with a half-emptied bottle in his hands, tears on his face.

he'd sit there for hours, wasting away with every sip burning at his throat. he hated alcohol, but it was the only way to cope because he didn't want to remember any moment without her.

when he was nearly passed out on the floor, max would drag him up by his arms, forcing more than a few glasses of water down his throat. he'd grown familiar with his friend's new sulking.

max threw him on the guest room bed he didn't bother to make because he was miserable. he made it everyone's problem then. he'd leave his passed out friend a concoction of medicines to help with the hangover, he'd gotten used to this routine for the past couple of months.

when lando would stumble his way down the stairs, hands wrapped in his curls with a splitting pain through his head and a grimace on his face, all max would comment is "well, aren't you a pitiful sod."

lando rolled his eyes, groaning at the pain as he did so, sitting on a chair at the table across from his best friend, cringing at the resemblance of dinners with his girl—who wasn't even his anymore.

"jesus, mate, maybe you do need an intervention." he'd push his bowl of oatmeal towards lando, watching the expression on his face closely.

"I'm fine."

"clearly not," max scoffed, "mate, it's great havin' you here, but y'need to sober up."

"I will."

"you've said that last month, and the month before that, and the month before that." he shook his head, "I don't even get why you guys broke up."

lando groaned, rubbing his fingertips to his temple and chugging the water before he spoke, "it wasn't working out, 'ts for the best."

"for the best? are you kidding me?" he scoffed his friend's words, he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

to max, breaking up was for the worst. he could tell lando was in misery, and he'd guess she was the same, maybe worse. maybe he didn't know much, but he knew enough to know that they were meant for each other.

"I'm not kidding," he muttered, pushing the oatmeal around the bowl, his spoon clinking against the sides, "besides, we tried to fix it, 'n it didn't work."

he paused, "fix it 'ow?"

lando rolled his eyes, feeling the consequences of his actions through his head, mumbling under his breath, "we went out to eat."

"you're jokin' me?" he leaned forward, a look of disbelief and disappointment on his face, "you went out to eat? how's that goin' to solve anything?"

lando shrugged again, refusing to look max in the eye as he pushed the mush around in his bowl, picking out the bits of fruit throughout.

"you're a real geezer, y'know that?" he sighed deeply, leaning back into the stool as he sat looking at his idiotic friend, "it was a perfectly salvageable relationship, mate, and you just threw it away." he shook his head, his arms crossed against his chest as he leaned his head on one hand.

"you gonn' call me a muppet next?" he aggressively bit into the small strawberry.

"might as well because you're acting like one. now why did you break up with her?"

"she broke up with me." he quietly corrected him, though it didn't seem to shed light on the fact that they didn't try as much as they thought they did.

"then fight for your relationship!" max exclaimed, throwing his hands up in response, "did you ever talk about what was wrong?"

"we didn' have time to," lando admitted, "and we didn't know what to do." he pushed aside the bowl, having barely touched the food residing in it. it's gone cold now, just like him.

"make the time!" he suggested, jabbing his finger into the counter to make a point, "when was the last time you were alone together?"

"when we had dinner together."

max groaned, shoving his face into his hands, rubbing his closed eyes on his palms. lando was starting to give him a headache, "when was the last time you were alone together, no people, no cameras, no fans, just you and her doing something?"

"i 'ont know."

"jesus, man." his voice muffled into his skin as his face remained in his palms because of the idiocracy of his friend.

"well, what do you suggest i do then, max?" lando's tone got seemingly more aggressive and annoyed, the volume of his voice raising slightly.

"actually spend time with her! take her on holiday!" he suggested, matching energies.

"mate, I can't just ask her after months of not speakin'," lando's stool pushed against the floor as he stood up, he was agrivated. he harshly grabbed the bowl with the cold food and shoved it in the sink.

max turned in his seat, "right, so just give up and go back to drinkin' then?"

lando ignored the comment, it infuriated him because max was right. if he didn't find the solution to his problem, he probably would go back to getting blackout drunk. all in hopes that'd help forget his misery

he leaned against the sink with his arms, his head hung between his inner biceps with his eyes closed, taking deep breaths before asking, "how should I ask her then?"

"you truly are a muppet."

"christ, just help m'out here!" lando pleaded because he couldn't take it anymore. he'd been losing himself to however many bottles of alcohol that'd stacked in the bin and the amount of over-the-counter drugs he'd force down his burned throat. all to forget what seemed like an impossible fix, but all he needed was another person. just because they didn't know what to do doesn't mean others wouldn't.

and of course max would help. he just had to give lando a hard time for screwing up so badly because he would've never expected him to show up at his front door midday, stumbling drunk and muttering slurred phrases about her.

his first thought when he saw his disoriented friend was to wonder if something had happened, the obvious answer being, obviously. because lando barely drank. max knew how much he couldn't stand the taste and chasing burn so it wasn't often you'd catch him drunk, much less to this extent.

he knew it had to involve his girlfriend by the here-and-there words he could decipher from the rest, but he couldn't expect to get the full story from the utter nonsense his friend spewed.

it wasn't till morning max discovered the extent of lando's stupidity.

" 'ts your relationship," max sighed, "and you realize she might not be so accepting to see you."

it hurt to think about. he didn't know what was worse, for her to be in such misery like himself or for her to not want him back. his stomach tied itself in knots to even think about, but he was the one who left her in the first place.

"yeah, I know."

he was lost without her. everything seemed so meaningless without her by his side, though she hadn't been for months, even when they were together. but the idea of her presence somewhere in his vicinity was all he needed.

she was like a drug he tried so hard to quit because it seemed to be getting him no where. but he was addicted. all he thought about when he wasn't drunk was her. every single dollar wasted on booze was drank to forget her. the lack of her in his life.

so when he showed up at her doorstep, it was more than just a shock. she'd opened the door, the last thing she expected was to see him, standing with an expression that seemingly matched hers. the smell of booze wafting from his clothes and the bittersweet smell of his cologne she had long forgotten about. smelling it again brought back everything she tried to learn to forget about him.

she wanted to be mad, to push and kick him away, but she'd been waiting for months for him to reappear into her life. for him to come back to her, the anticipation built in her body every time the door bell echoed off the walls, or knocks that pounded against the door.

but instead she slammed the door almost immediately, and he didn't blame her. how could he when he'd been the one to leave. because on the other side of that door, her heart was pounding.

she'd been wanting to see him for so long, so badly wanted him back in her life, but what if they made the same mistakes? she couldn't take losing him a second time because she'd already lost most of herself when he drove away the first time.

because she'd watched her future slip through her fingertips and there wasn't anything she knew that would make her catch it.

she knew she was to blame for breaking them up. it was for the best, she told her guilty conscience, but it didn't change the heart-wrenching want to have him back.

she'd spent months in the cocoon she made of their cold bed, ultimately settling on his side to feel closer to him. but what was the point? he hadn't slept in that bed in months, the sheets that reeked of him faded, and even more so when he left her, for at the time she thought, forever.

"love, please," he pleaded against the door, his forehead against the cold metal, "I screwed up, but please, let me fix this, us."

she hesitated. she knew she was the type to let people who hurt her back into her life so easily, as if nothing happened, but she was the one who forced him out. she knew that.

so when the door creaked open, he pushed himself away from the door as fast as lightning. her doe eyes peaking around, staring at his chest before they found their way to his face. he'd changed. he looked tired, unkept. she'd be lying if she said she looked the same as she did months ago because she honestly looked worse than him.

because being apart brought out their worst qualities in themselves that they'd helped the other through, but it resurfaced.

when he'd gotten a good look at her, he realized she definitely wasn't the same girl she was months ago. he'd notice the dark circles under her eyes, half-lidded and puffy, begging for sleep. the oversized hoodie he left her, though surprisingly clean, was well-worn by her. through the baggy cloth, he could tell her physique was slimmer, he felt nauseous.

she couldn't stand the silence between them even when they lived the last months of their relationship filled with it. they were both hurting and they both knew it, but they'd assume the other would be the one to patch it up. that's where they messed up, they seem to do it a lot.

"so why now are you here?" she'd cut through the silence with a butter knife, sawing back and forth as she stumbled where she stood. she struggled to keep her balance, lack of energy will do that to you.

"I realized how much of an idiot I was," he stepped closer, bringing his hand to hers, pressing her fingers between his. he trailed the pads of his fingertips down her hand and to her wrist. he'd latch on, caressing the soft skin, he'd remember the feeling.

"but I was the one who broke you with you."

he didn't mean it like that, to insinuate that she was the idiot for breaking them up because in no way did he blame her. he put the blame all on him for not fighting for them.

" 'nd I was the one who left."

she stared up at him, her big eyes doing things to him, he shouldn't feel it in a moment like this, but he did. he just wanted her back, to feel her lips on his, her smooth skin under his soft but callused hands.

her lips parted when she'd realize the feeling of warmth against her face, his hand running along her jaw to her chin. though she was already looking up at him, he pushed her head up further, but so softly.

his voice was raspy and deep, pleading, "please, darlin'." she couldn't say no even if the voice inside her head and the feeling in her heart told her to.

"just don't leave again."

he could never, not after the misery he'd been through without her, blackout nights to forget everything that had led up to their break up. he couldn't imagine the anguish he put her through.

and at those words, he couldn't hold back anymore, his lips colliding with hers so desperately, like he needed her to survive. he kind of did. he tasted faintly of alcohol and fruit, she tasted like mint. her lips moved softly against his passionate kiss because he was acting like she was his oxygen, his water, his everything because she was.

his hand tangled in her hair, the sounds of their breaths between their lips, the heavy heat that surrounded the air as they separated.

"let's go somewhere," he'd suggest, his chest rising and falling more noticeably now.

her lips became a swollen pink as she looked up at him, dazed as her eyes flickered between his green eyes, "where?"

he shook his head, smiling. god, she missed that smile. he spoke so softly now, "anywhere, you pick. it'll jus' be us."

money didn't matter to him. if she wanted to travel to the moon and back, he'd make it happen because he wanted to make things right. he wanted to show her he was all in now because he would never take another step out ever again.

so they'd travel across the world. he'd rent out hotels, restaurants, amusement parks, anything she'd want. like max said, he wanted this between the two of them. no cameras, no fans, no public. just them enjoying their time together and alone at the most beautiful places she could think of.

she'd end up on an island with him, the only other people being the employees of the resorts he'd rent out. he did everything with her.

they went on yachts around the crystal waters and coral reefs surrounding the beaches that they'd later lay and tan on. they'd talk as they bathed in the sunlight. snorkeling while holding hands and pointing out various species that inhabited the waters.

candle-lit dinners sitting across from each other, though their hands never left each other. they'd been offered fancy wines, lando ultimately opting out. she understood. they tried the exotic foods and other virgin drinks the resort had to offer.

they had long runs along the beach, heavy makeout sessions on stranded towels where they couldn't take their hands off the other, deciding to take the trip back to their hut over the waters.

when they'd make it back, he wasted no time because he missed her, the feeling of her around him, the taste of her.

as soon as the hut door slammed shut, his veined hand would be pressured on her neck, pushing at the skin under his fingertips to pull her into his lips. he was desperate, she knew that.

his lips were harshly against hers, she could feel the vibrations of his groans against her flesh, feeling his working hands across her chest, having left her neck temporarily to undo her tied bikini top. it was discarded onto the wooden floors with no further regard. they'd separate, foreheads pushed together and their noses clashing as their breaths mixed in the middle.

his head dipped below her jaw, biting at the skin of her neck. whimpers left her lips and she felt his smirk on her skin while she grasped at his curls. he slowly pushed their bodies towards the open laid bed behind her, her calf's meeting the mattress. he tugged at the elastic of her beach shorts, though deciding to take his time, which made it all the more agonizing for her, she needed him.

his lips trailed her body, leaving trails of his saliva and marks where he nipped at her skin, from her neck down to her chest. he groped her tits, earning a low groan from her as his tongue swirled her areola. she tugged his hair, his curls between each of her fingers as she bit back the sounds that forced through her throat. he was starved of her, which only turned her on more. she felt the heat between her thighs.

he'd kneel on his knees in front of her as he'd continue to leave a string of dark hickeys down her skin as he'd continue to her stomach, and just above her panty line, pulling the elastic of her shorts down. she'd almost just rip them off because she couldn't take how slow he'd move compared to when they first ended up in this situation.

his finger wrapped around the band, slowly pulling the material over the curves of her body, but he'd left her panties, which infuriated her. he did it all while looking straight up into her eyes, the glint in his eyes filled of lust and mischief. he'd lift her leg with his hand wrapped around the back of her knee, helping her kick off the clothing.

he'd kiss the skin just above the side of her knee, his lips glued to her skin as they traveled higher up her thighs, as well as his hands, sliding under the side of her panties. his nose brushed against the cloth of her cunt, ghostly stimulating her clit. it provoked a reaction out of her as she whined, and he'd continue to kiss along the line of her undergarment.

he may have started off desperate, but now he was taking his sweet time to take care of her. she wanted to badly for him to just hurry it along, wanting to feel him, but he'd rather enjoy the moment he had with her, like it was his last.

he pushed aside the cloth barrier, licking his lips as he eyed the wet patch caused by him, his warm breath panned across her cunt and she pleaded, "lan, please." god, he loved to hear her beg, it was music to his ears, but her moans were a symphony.

his two fingers slowly parted her folds, feeling her pulse under him as she moaned against the contact, he 'tsk'd at her reaction, "so wet for me, darling." his voice was raspy, deep and she cursed under her breath as she watched him lick her off his fingers.

the taste of her brought him back, he'd savor it because he hadn't before, not when he didn't realize it could've been the last. she was sweet, her skin smelling of vanilla as his nose brushed against her.

he'd had enough teasing for now, and gently he'd pull down her panties. she'd be fully exposed, but he was still dressed, his clothes feeling tighter around his body, specifically his swim shorts.

he didn't care. he'd thrown one of her legs over his shoulder as he flattened his tongue across her, feeling the tremble in her standing leg. he'd bury his lips in her cunt, vigorously tasting her like he hadnt eaten in weeks. his tongue lapped at her heat and she let out strings of curses interrupted by moans as she'd tug him closer to her by his hair.

vibrations of his groans stimulated her clit as he softly nipped at the sensitive flesh. he'd lapped at her cunt for not long before it became overwhelming, her moans growing high and squeaked as her legs nearly buckled.

he kept going, looking up at her with massively dilated eyes, half-lidded and seductive. her jaw went slack as she stared into his eyes, she felt the crescendo of her high and she'd nearly scream out his name as she came on his tongue. he'd lick up any remaining juice of hers.

his tongue left one long trail over her cunt, pressuring on her sensitive before pulling away, a trail of saliva connecting to his mouth and her slick glistened on his lips and chins. she panted heavily, he watched the rise and fall of her chest, felt the shaking of her knees as they nearly gave out under her.

he'd smile up at her, his goofy grin greeted her after her hazed high calmed. she'd roll her eyes at his light-heartedness after she'd just came on his tongue.

but it was moments like those that'd bring back the spark of youth and naivety to their relationship. because it was what they'd needed all along. all they needed was each other.

[bratphilia]

the flip side (m. schmidt x reader x w. afton)

note: remember that mike fic i wrote where i mentioned his voyeurism kink? here we go.

pairing: mike schmidt x reader x steve raglan / william afton

tags: bondage/restraints (both m/f receiving), gagging (m receiving), cuckolding/voyeurism, doggy style, spanking, dubcon, dom!william, sub!reader + mike

mike awoke to a low whistling sound. the last thing he remembers is dreaming the same dream he's been having his entire life, except this time, instead of ghost children leaving cryptic messages for him, all he could hear was your voice in the distance crying out to him for help. when his eyes opened and he gained consciousness, he found himself in a nightmare beyond anything he's ever experienced in his sleep before.

it was you, blindfolded, completely stripped nude and handcuffed, laying on your stomach on an old mattress on the floor. he seemed to be in a dark basement. before he could think he tried to call out your name and lunge himself towards you, but he was halted realizing he was gagged by a cloth and restrained around his chest and wrists. he was completely powerless.

"ah, good," a cheery, oddly familiar voice calls, "you're finally awake."

steve raglan, his fucking job counsellor, steps into his line of vision. "we almost got started without you."

mike wanted to demand what the hell was going on, but he can only punctuate it by wriggling aggressively in his restraints. steve only laughs at his helplessness.

"you just couldn't leave it alone, could you?" steve asks rhetorically, and mike had no idea what he's referring to, but he has an inkling it has to do with freddy's, because what else could this be about? "so i decided to take something from you." he gestures toward you. your eyes are squeezed shut with tears rolling down your face. mike looks at you pitifully. he hates to see you cry, especially now that he can't do anything about it.

"as you may have guessed by now," steve rambles on, starting to unbutton his shirt and strip himself from his trousers, "i'm going to use your little girlfriend, and you're going to watch. completely powerless to stop it."

you begin to sob. "no...! please, don't..."

"shut the fuck up!" steve's tone switches so easily. he walks over to you and grabs you by your cheeks and bends down to your level, whispering something mike can't hear, but you obviously don't like the sound of it as more tears run down your face.

steve turns to address mike again. "now, any preferred positions?"

mike only blinks. did he really just fucking ask him that?

"oh, wait!" steve laughs, like him being gagged and unable to answer is the funniest thing in the world.

"she sure is gorgeous. you picked a good one," steve comments, making mike's blood boil. no one should call you that, only him. "let's see... what about you, princess?"

you sniff. "just... get it over with." mike's heart breaks slightly at your lack of resistance, but he understands that steve is probably going to kill you if you don't submit to him.

steve frowns. "well that's no fun."

he walks around the mattress, observing you, while you bury your face into the cushiony surface, embarrassed. "i think i'll make this easy for you two. i'll just take you from behind, sweet girl."

"mmph!" mike cries out against the cloth. he's violently rattling against the restraints, desperate to break free.

steve just chuckles at his futile attempt. "don't hurt yourself, kid."

he kneels down on the mattress and adjusts you to his liking: bent on your stomach so your ass is in the air. steve immediately sticks his cock inside of you and doesn't even give you a grace period to adjust.

something inside mike's stomach stirs. it's a... pleasurable feeling. but one he can't relieve, so it's even more so frustrating.

you cry out loudly. grasping desperately at the fabric of the mattress but your grip keeps coming loose due to the rough physicality of which steve is handling you in.

"please!" you practically scream. "please, i can't take it!"

steve just laughs, almost evilly. "you hear that mike? hear your girl beggin' for me?"

mike lets out a grunt. he can feel his pants tightening. as much as he hates to admit it, he's getting aroused off of this.

the room is filled with the noises of skin slapping, steve's grunts and groans paired with incessant moaning. it was all overwhelming to mike. he shut his eyes, trying to block off the tirade of steve's praises — his 'good girl's, 'yes baby's, 'take it for daddy's, and so on — and tries to focus on the noises tumbling uncontrollably from your mouth. he starts bucking his hips to create friction by rubbing his dick against the fabric of his pants.

mike doesn't realize it but muffled, quiet whimpering noises are coming from him. however, steve notices.

"oh, you sick fuck. you like that, huh? like watching a stranger fucking your girlfriend, huh?" steve asks with a wide smile on his face. then he grips you by your hair so you can look at him. "look at him, sweetheart. see how pathetic he is? he's getting off to this."

fuck, your eyes. mike comes from that alone. he stops bucking his hips and just watches you listlessly, in true post-orgasm-clarity fashion. steve's grunts grow louder and more ravenous, until he eventually reaches his own orgasm. he pulls out of you and spills his seed all over your lower body. steve sits down on his knees at the edge of the mattress while you lay there, crying and shaking.

"i might have to keep you two," he says, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

[cookiepie111]

࿐Drink from the leche of sirens࿐

Synopsis - An injury könig comes across a lake and pretty nymph. Greek au könig x black nymph reader. No minors. Smut

Part 2 here

A/N-

An alternate to the fountain girl fic I wrote.

Think this might be the longest thing I've written. There is a Pinterest mood board here. Shout out to @cinnamonbunboii cause their comment inspired this fic. Please like and reblog!

Tags: @terra-713 @cinnamonbunboii @kneelingshadowsalome @bucca2

       𓇼 - - - - - - - - 𓇼 - - - - - - - - 𓇼

Deities are petty beings, twisting the hearts of humans when things don't go their way. König and his army may have won the battle but the casualties were high, he himself was beat and bruised. Its just a game to them and what do you do when you're losing and angry, you flip out, over turn the board and scatter the pieces. Think of a new way to win while your opponent garthers up their fallen pieces.

Scattered by the wind, what a cliche but it works, in all the commotion the soldiers were separated, placed in every which direction, on land, and both above and below the heavens. How petty all this because you lost. Somehow this wasn't the worst part of könig's day just the final cherry on top the shitty Sunday the gods gave him. His lover betrayed him, separated from his allies, battered and bruised and now there's nothing around him but trees. If not for the situation and burning rage in his heart he'd find the place quite peaceful, beautiful even, a nice place to die.

The deeper könig went into the forest the more the atmosphere changed, trees bend and shift, covering the sky above. The slow dance of leaves and bright glow of the fireflies. All of it leading up to a lake in the clearing. It all felt too to unnatural to be real, like sweet honey leading him a trap. Pressing into the wound at his side, the sharp pain brought him back to his senses, this isn't the place to lose one's mind he'd need to keep his wits about him if he wanted to live.

Even if he doesn't want to accept it there's no denying this would be a beautiful place to die. Even now he hates himself for still thinking of her, even at the moment of his death she still has place in his mind. she'd love this place, a backdrop like this would only accentuate her beauty more.

He walked close to the lake feeling the trees shift around him again. Laying back on the trees bark sword placed on the ground.

The waters surface ripples altering könig to the figure in the lake, its shape he couldn't quite make out. A head, a person maybe. This place could be cursed, it wouldn't surprise him. He stares back never removing his eyes from them watching as they stay just below the water.

If he's intruded on some beings land they'll just have to put up with him or force him out. He's got enough strength for one last fight. It is after all the way of the warrior to go out fighting he thinks, unsteady as he pushes off the tree bark.

You can't remember the last time you saw another human here, they often end up with your older sister although you doubt they've all been this large and imposing. Even injured he carries himself very well. The cut in his stomach only causing him to hunch over, you doubt the blood covering him is his own.

Once at the water's edge the thoughts of battle quickly die down. It a woman in the water, human she is not but a woman still. The skin of human women doesn't glow or shine. Their skin isn't adorned with scales of greans and blue hues around their eyes nor does their hair shift and swirl like small currents atop the waters surface like yours. No those features that were that of nymph. Women of nature blessed with great beauty. And unfortunately for könig drowners of men.

His odds are about 50/50 he wouldn't drown so easily but that wasn't a risk he wanted to take, with his body is failing him now, heavy breaths as he falls back to the ground. Eyes still on the nymph at his front, she makes no move, just watching.

It takes a few moments for her to move a few more heavy breaths and groans from könig for her to lift from the water.

When she comes out to meet him she bare. Thin pieces of fabric dropping over her waist and chest slipping under her right breast, past her womanhood, more like an accessory one would add cause they thought it looked nice than a piece of clothing. Thick curly hair swirling around her body

To think he could still get hard at a time like this.

Drowning doesn't seem so bad now if it is by her hand.Maybe a kiss from them would send him peaceful into the afterlife.

She stood over him head tilling side from side,trying to figure the man out. He hasn't said anything, he doesn't shout or draw his sword like the other men she's seen. He's also taller, bigger, more.... solid than other men, gracing a hand down his arm. Kneeling beside him, the injury is worse than she thought. did one of the gods bring him here? Or did he just wonder here himself? You held your chin swaying on your heels deep in thought

König felt delirious, he's injured, lost and now there's a pretty nymph circling round, staring, pocking and prodding at him. If this was any other situation he'd take her in the moment. Hull her over his shoulder and fuck her till scream or blesses him, gives him heavenly children. But he's tired and weak, he can do nothing but watch as she frees his egear cock from his tunic.

He's never felt like this before, grunting and wincing under her touch. He's sure she's sucking the energy out of him.  Maybe its the bloodloss maybe it the fire at the groin the licking and kissing along his shaft causing the dizziness in him, eyes shut tight and panting as he comes closer to the edge but the release never comes. feeling her tongue stroke the entire length of him as she comes up.

The next moment for könig were pure bliss, something straight out of dream. To have her now Straddling him bouncing so eagerly on his cock, was a feeling he could never forget. The sweet stretch as she sank. It was frustrating not being able to touch her, She didn't move fast enough not for könig liking. He was too weak to set the pace, his hand only able to rest on the plush of her hip. Even if she used him like a toy könig couldn't help but throw his head back in pleasure at the squeeze of her soft walls.

Her hands explored the body under her, digging into the wounds, ignoring his hisses and complaints, pushing him back down before he finds the strength to push her off. It felt hot then numb, as she dug into his wounds.

With new found strength he bucked his hips, against her. The sound of their love making filling the forest air, his hands firmly at her hips to move her at a pace he found fit, fast and messy before emptying himself inside her.

When he finally came back down from the high he finds her form shake and ripple above him. The words die on his tongue, as her form melts down, and fades away into the water

He gets up able without stumbling this time walking straight finding himself back at the army base. König's honestly not sure if that really happened or if he was just crazy. He has nothing to show for the whole ordeal to prove it was real. He knows on the brink of the death the mind can conger all sorts of things to keep one alive but nothing could explain sleeping with a water nymph. he'd like to think he wasn't deranged...To imagine sleeping with being that would normally drown you but...

The only evidence he had was his body. The open wound in his stomach gone, his whole body intact even stronger than before. He'll think about this alot after wondering if you were really real. It would be best to get you out of his mind. Yet he sees you in the lakes and bodies of water and in the faces of women passing him by

You on the other hand couldn't believe your luck! Showing off the keepsake you'd got from the soldiers.

Red bracelet shining under the sun as you turned it on your wrist to show off to your sisters. Giggling and splashing round the waters edge. You're so lucky such a strong and handsome man!

"Wow what's his name".... "You did get his name right???" ... you didn't get his name. You didn't get his name! And honestly you're not sure which army he's with you can't tell the difference between the armours

[yooglefics]

Reveal — Part two: editing

Pairing: Yoongi x fem!reader ( camboy!yoongi x camgirl!reader )  Wordcount: 1,735 words Genre: 18+, mdni, remainder to not use fanfics as your only source of sex ed. Summary: Yoongi is just helping a friend help you, but is he even supposed to listen to this?. Part 2 of Reveal: recording. Read it for context. This is just why and how we got to that ending. More warnings under read more.

Includes: Mentions of selling sex content. People recording sex acts. Mentions of sexual activity ( doing things and also talking about doing things and thinking about doing more things ). Mentions of past and not past masturbation ( f and m ).  Dirty talk? I guess?. Sprinkle of possessive yoongi? Is not my fault i sweaaaar Author's note: Remember when I started writing something short and silly lmao, what a time. Btw, I have never used OF so if something I say about how they use the website is actually not true / completely wrong just pretend please lmao. Anyway, I thought it'd be fun to write Yoongi's side, hope you like it! If you do please remember to leave a comment, reblog, ask, follow and what not. Thank you for reading <3

Saturday is probably Yoongi's favorite day of the week. No waking up early, no work, and not worrying about having to do any of those the next day.

That's why he groans when his phone rings with messages from Jungkook. He knows is him because he is the only one who still insists on sending him a million messages instead of just one. 

Love the guy, but he can be annoying.

The fifth ring comes and hopping is the last one, Yoongi finally reaches for his phone and rolls to his back. 

JK: hey JK: are you awake? JK: and free today? JK: i need a favor JK: yoongi?

Yoongi: with what? If I have to leave my house is probably a no.

Both of them know that actually, even if it ruined his plans of relaxing, he would say yes. Because that's what friends do.

JK: no no. You can do it at your house  JK: I need to edit an audio for my friend JK: but I'm on the schedule today JK: and if I don't send it back quickly she will back out JK: please? 

Yoongi: ok. Send it to me. Yoongi: you own me, tho.

Throwing his phone on the bed, he gets out of it to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, getting ready to sit in his studio for at least an hour. He knows is probably a bit extra to use his expensive equipment for whatever this favor is, but if he is going to help, he is going to do it right.

Opening Jungkook's messages on his laptop, Yoongi almost wants to laugh at himself.

JK: [ killmepls.mp3 ] JK: is and OF thing, btw JK: don't listen to it in public lol

Yep, definitely Poducer Min equipment is too extra for this. But, fuck it.

The archive is already downloaded when he opens the software, starting a new project and naming it the same as the audio plus final, to not get confused. Plugging in his headphones he starts playing it, already noticing whoever this is, is pretty quiet at the beginning and he would most likely have to cut it off, still, he listens to make sure.

A few taps followed by a “hi..” is the start, and he chuckles at their giggles.

He decides to let that in, but cuts the next few seconds where only their breathing can be heard along with some clicking and fabric moving. Is too long of a pause for this kind of thing and the clicking gives a way they weren't ready to start. Sure they wouldn't mind.

They put music on? It sounds familiar but is pretty fade out, so he can't really be sure, and then “This angle is kinda…” 

That's him.

That's his voice.

“Hot,” the voice continues before he can rewind.

“You can't tell me I'm mean anymore. I'm spoiling you,” his own voice travels again on his headphones. “I'm giving you this view and I'm giving you what's probably the thing you all ask the most: hands.”

What is this? Some kind of joke?

Did Jungkook put them up to this?

“I hate him. I'm gonna sue him,” 

That gets a laugh from him, even if he is still confused about what is happening.

Maybe it's just his imagination?

Should he ask his friend?

More movement of fabric. Maybe bed sheets or clothes. More breathing, a bit faster than last time and then, a groan. 

He can leave that in.

Wait, that's right. He is supposed to be editing this. He has to go back and…

“This angle is kinda…” his voice says and he hits pause. Is really him. Is that possible?

He feels like he is imagining things.

“Jungkook, I swear if this is some kind of joke or something,” he rambles taking his phone out.

Yoongi: did you listen to it?

JK: no, didn't have time JK: why? something wrong? JK: don't tell me it can't be used JK: she is gonna be sad :(

Yoongi: who is she?

JK: dunno if i can tell you 

Yoongi: technically I'm doing a favor for her. I think is fair 

JK: good point JK: is afterhours(y/n)

He opens a new tap on his laptop, goes to the website and searches for the username through his followers. And sure enough there it is. Subscribed a month ago.

He clicks to see your perfil. The first post he can see without being subscribed is a picture of a lilac lingerie set on a bed with the caption “very early birthday present”, from a week ago. 

He considers subscribing to see more, but he stops himself from clicking, remembering Jungkook didn't even want to tell him who you were. Oh, shit. What would you do if you knew it was him editing your audio? Would you back out? Or be sad?

Now it feels kind of wrong, like if he were invading your privacy.

He clicks around on his computer again, audio track back to the zero seconds mark. He hears the “hi” and the giggles and stops it before his voice appears. 

“Okay, this is going to be posted. It was recorded with the intention of being posted for people to hear,” he reasons. “If it's not posted I'd just forget about it and if it is… I'd… subscribe? To make up for listening?”

Clearly that part is not completely made up on his mind, but he doesn't have to decide what to do right now, he has to finish editing. And so, Yoongi clicks around the software again, cutting and deleting another section, the one where you can hear his voice and even his music before.

That's it. It was a familiar track because it is his. He composed that himself to put in the background of his videos exclusively. He figured putting his own touch would help if something was posted outside his page, never imagining hearing it in the background of someone else's video or audio was even possible.

It shouldn't affect him this much. After all, people touching themselves to his videos is half the reason he likes making them. What can he say? Is a turn on to have that effect on others, it builds his confidence up.

But actually hearing it is different. 

Groan and fabric moving, a bit too close to the mic he considers doing something about it, but “I want you to touch me,” is the perfect whisper. Just the right volume, just the right words.

No more audio of SugaD can be heard now, you probably turn down the volume of the video or pause it. Yoongi is curious about it. The idea of your sounds being a reaction to his past self is doing things to him, and Yoongi would like to ignore them before getting too distracted, but is kind of a boomer not knowing exactly what your reactions are for.

Maybe he can open his video, it wouldn't be hard for him to synchronized it with your audio and—

No.

That would cross the line. Is enough that he—

“Are you hard?” your voice continues, timidly he thinks. 

Is this your first time doing this? That's why you couldn't edit yourself?

What would you do if you knew he was listening and his dick was calling for attention at all your little sounds?

He stops your recording, considers taking a break, going back to bed. But he knows just forgetting about this would be hard and in the end he would have to come back and finish helping.

He unpaused it.

More moans echo throughout his headphones and he fixes them on top of his head, as if that would help him concentrate. You just sound so pretty, and when you plead he wants to give you anything you ask for, his dick twitching with desire.

He could just— no. That'll be wrong. Is enough he is letting it affect him this much, he can't just—

His leg bounces under his desk, hand glue to his mouse even when he is just listening now. Only stopping and going back a couple times to fix the volume of background noise, making it less or more obvious depending on the flow or your moans.

A groan of his own cuts the silence in his studio when you form words again. “It feels so good, oh god.” And Yoongi wishes he knew what. Wishes he could see you, could touch you. Could make you sound and feel that good in person.

“Uh uh,” short moans leave your lips, and it sounds so much like you're agreeing with his thoughts he really considers sneaking a hand down his pants. Allow his mind to wander and imagine what you would look like under him. Or on top. Or just coming undone by him.

But he doesn't. He just listens to your recording, your breathing, your pleas and your cut out warning when you cum.

“Fucking hell,” Yoongi angrily whispers. And for a second he considers doing the SugaD special of cutting it out of the final audio, but that's too selfish.

Or perhaps is more selfish leaving it. Considering he wants the world to hear how you sound when listening to him.

Yoongi managed to leave the studio without touching himself. But is not really as impressive as it sounds since his hand is on his dick the minute he goes back to bed after listening to the final edit of your audio one last time. The excuse of being just to make sure is perfect is just that, an excuse. And your pretty sounds replay on his head while he jerks off until orgasm.

JK: thank youuuu JK: she says thank you too!

Does that mean you know he was the one editing it?

He opens the app on his phone, looks for your perfil again and debates a couple minutes his options. 

What's the worst that can happen? You blocking him? He would understand, but if he actually doesn't do anything, doesn't play his chance, he wouldn't forgive himself.

And so, he subscribes. Page refreshes instantly and a new post greets him.

[ afterhours(y/n):

Surprise, surprise. Is my birthday month but I keep spoiling you, ain't I the best? 😝 

      [ VoiceReveal.mp3 ]

                                                                         ]

Doesn't even have to listen to it, his fingers move on their own, “the cutest”, he comments.

♡ Tag list: @m00njinnie , @sexytholland , @seoullove96 , @thelilbutifulthings , @disneyprincessshuri ,

( is hereee! I appreciate u guys hehe <3 ) ( if anyone else wants to be tagged in the future, let me know )

➪ Part one. | ➪ Part three. | ➪ Updates for this verse | ➪ Ko-fi

➪ Main masterlist. | ➪ Updates in general | ➪ Request & chats ♡

[dreamauri]

Whens the next part of My love all mine coming out?🤭

┇𝗠𝗬 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 - part six ┇ ︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶ ┇arranged marriage does not always hold ┇the outcome you expect !! ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊   ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( max vertsappen  x  wife! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( angst / fluff )  ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠song — ( link ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠word count — ( - ) ╰  🌿 :: ⁠ content warning — ( X )

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( previous | next )

“It’s so fluffy.” Max whispers, nuzzling his nose in your hair. You chuckle slightly, shuffling further back into his lap to get comfortable. The dutch, wrapped his arms around your waist to remove the space between your back in his chest. Max leaned his chin on your shoulder watching with you the tiktoks you scroll through.

You find yourself holding in a laugh when the video of drunk Max and Daniel on a plane. Max finds himself gasping, taking your phone and looking at it in disbelief. “How long–” “That's been there forever.” you tease taking your phone from him.

You press on the search bar, type drunk max verstappen to show him all the clips people have seen, including that one time he and Charles were calling each other from on a cruise ship.

“Ah, young love.” You tease him. Max gives you a deep frown and a confused face. “Me and Charles?” “There’s a whole hashtag dedicated to you guys.” You tease, scrolling through a bit more, you come across a video of you and max drunk sway dancing from the after parties from the monaco gp. You knew some girls were doing something. “I liked that dress.” Max nuzzles in your shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to your neck. 

“You got me that dress, remember?” “Yeah, that’s why I like it.” He smiled widely and you felt yourself laugh, melting in his hold. You liked loved moments like these. Just you and your husband, sitting on a balcony under the moonlight.

You wish everyday could be like this, peaceful and calm, just comfortable nights for you and your husband. But you always have to remember that Max Verstappen was a world renowned sportsman. He spends his weekends driving and weekdays training.

And even when nothing was going on, there were still people in the media who wanted to bite you. Looking through the comments was a mistake. You sighed reading how people said they could treat Max so much better or just picked on your mistakes.

“What’s this shit?” Max grumbles, scrolling through the comments. There was a pattern. People were nice to him, praising him, complimenting him. Telling him how he was such a good husband. On the other hand, others were commenting on how you weren't enough for him. How he could do and how much he deserves so much better.

“I don’t think these people understand I’ve been . . . what’s the world? Simping? Crushing on you since high school.” You held a giggle at the statement. He took your phone from you, starting to report every hateful comment. You couldn’t help but chuckle at his determination. “You don't have to do that.” “Shhh, wifey. It’s fun.” “Sorry, hubby.” You gave him a soft kiss before he was standing up.

You went to get a glass of the lemonade you and Max had made earlier when you heard your phone ring. “It’s your mom.” He shouted through the hotel room before answering. “Hallo, mum. Het Max.” [hi, mom. it’s max.] He greeted her over the phone. You couldn’t hear what your mom said in return but Max laid back in his arms with a big pout. “Het is voor jou, liefje.” [is your mom, love] Max held the phone out for you. You chuckled, taking a sip from the lemonade and going to sit back outside with him.

“Hi mum.” You greeted her by putting the call on speaker. “Y/N, ik wil dat je met mij mee luistert. Ik kan zo ver niet met je leven en ik ga het niet langer volhouden dan dit.” [Y/N, i want you hear with me. I can't live with you this far and I'm not going to last longer than this] You found yourself freezing in your place. Tilting your head confused. “vergeet de verstappen. scheid dat kind en kom naar huis. Ik wil niet dat k wil je niet zo ver weg.“ [forget the verstappens. divorce that kid and come home. i dont want you so far from me]

Max snapped his head up, and you choked on your drink. Divorce? Your mom’s tone was harsh and mad. “Eh? scheiding? Dat wil ik niet. Ik boek wel een vlucht erheen, maar alles komt goed. je overdrijft.” [Eh? Divorce? I don't want that. I'll book a flight there, but everything will be fine. you are exaggerating] You ended the call before she could protest. 

A moment of silence evaded the space, a once warm space was now cold. You didn’t dare speak, you knew Max was looking at you to see what you’d do next. You shook your head, holding your legs and looking down at your phone. “I-i don't want to divorce.” You told him finally looking up to meet his eyes. Max relaxed at your reassurance, nodding quickly as he sat up properly facing. “I don't either.” He held your hand kissing your knuckles. “I’ll book you a flight right away.” He said standing up.

“Wait, Max.” You stood after him, stopping. “I don’t wanna go.” You found yourself admitting, a deep sigh leaving your throat. Max was the door of escape from your family. They’d always put pressure on you to be some perfect academic person. Graduating high school with honours and valedictory. You gave up on being normal when university came around. 

It was only when you married Max were you able to pick up a paint brush again. When Jos had approached you and your family about his son wanting your hand in marriage you took it right away. An escape. You didn’t know him, so marrying him was a risk. But if you never took that risk, you would’ve never found yourself living your life like you are now.

“It’s your mom and family.” He told you, turning to you confused, looking down at his phone for flights. “You’re my family.” You replied without even thinking.

The blond snapped his head up, taken aback by your words. “I don’t want to go back there. I don’t want to leave you— Correction, I don't want to be without you.” 

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"There you are." Your mother hummed happily once you pushed the door open. She opened her arms and you immediately went for her embrace, wrapping your arms around her back with your head on her chest. "Awh, look at you." The woman cooed, stroking your hair and kissing your head.

Max always had an odd feeling about the woman, From the moment she first saw him, till now she always give him this disgusted glare. "And I see you've brought your husband too." The words were bitter in her mouth. "I thought it was clear I wanted just you."

"Well," You looked back at the blond. "I don't know how to drive, and Me and Max we're together. So, yeah." There was a long pause, long eye contact between you and Max. "He doesn't love you." Your mother whispered in your ear, cupping her hand over her lips so max wouldn't hear or see.

"Don't be naïve, sunflower. He's after your looks." She stroked your hair. Max could see your eyebrows furrow weather in disbelief or in betrayal. "Your a trophy. If he really loved you, he'd come a whisk you off your feet. Make you fall in love with him and ask for your hand in marriage himself."

Your heart panged against your chest. She had a good point. If Max really loved you, why did he do the things the way he did. Why did you have to pick yourself up at the airport and let yourself into the apartment, and clean it up yourself? Why did you not have a choice to see if you loved him before marrying him? Why did he pluck you out of the life you already had?

"He's not good for you." Your mom whispered, her manipulative words getting through to you. "He's using you. He likes your body, your face, your image. Come to mummy, i wont hurt you, yeah? I'll keep you safe."

You jumped up on your feet clearing your throat. Max immediately noticed the shaky and hesitant body language you displayed. Fidgeting with your fingers and tapping the top of your toes on the floor.

"We should probably go, visiting hours are going to end soon." He stood up tall, gently wrapping his arm around your shoulder to comfort you. Max was surly surprised to see you flinch, and even more angry to see the deceiving gentle smile your mother gave hi. "Hours start at 12:30 tomorrow. Don't be late." She said.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Max found himself tracing the lines to the glass painting on your window. The hospital wasn't far from your mom's house which had your old tween room before your parents divorced. The faded purple walls with scenery painting on them with stickers and posters.

"They're pretty," He hummed. "We should try these out on our windows back home." He turned to you, pointing at the window. His body felt still once he caught your fear filled eyes. He gulped, moving over to you, sitting on his knees beside you.

"I don't know what your mother is telling you. But I love you. No matter what." Max held your hands in his, pressing a soft kiss to your fingers. "You are the single best thing that has ever happened to me and I'd never change anything about you or us."

You looked in his ocean eyes, too big for his head yet so beautiful for his own good. The second you looked away Max knew your mother was in favour at the moment. He knew that old narcissistic woman had won the moment you had slept with your back facing him. You never looked away from him.

And the sight or your sleeping figure facing away from him made him feel as if his heart was being ripped apart slowly and painfully. He was scared to even touch you. Max would never ever risk making you feel uncomfortable.

This would be your last night under the moon light together.

[spiderfunkz]

✦ I HATE YOU, NOT.

summary : you hated peter, but you still wrote him an 'apology' letter anyway.

word count : 0,7k

warnings : fluff, angst ish, established relationship, an arguement, i think that's it tee hee.

a/n : inspired by the poem from '10 things i hate about you' !! my requests for peter are open so feel free to send in your thoughts 🙃

it was storming.

the pouring rain and the clouds of thunder outside your apartment matched the situation that was building inside.

you rarely argued with peter. and when you do, it was always as a joke, it was never serious, ever.

the last time you argued was over coffee. when peter wanted to buy you a drink before he got home from taking photos for 'the daily bugle'. a job you begged for peter to quit, knowing that there are other newspapers willing to pay him more.

that was another silly argument you had that just ended up with jameson's head printed near your bedroom window the next day by peter.

"no, bub. espresso is much better." peter stated. you remember you replied with a snarky comment, which made peter defend his statement even more.

"absolutely not. you're crazy."

"says the person who can't even drink espresso!" you heard peter's laugh from the other side of the phone. "i add milk! it's not that different!" you reply, "that's called a latte, sweetheart." peter says — you hung up immediately after.

but this time there was no joke to laugh about. no stupid topic to debate about, no unserious competitions. only frustration ran through your body.

"okay! fine then!" you snap.

peter was almost taken aback, you've been quiet the entire time. "get out of my apartment, parker."

peter froze, as if he just finally realized everything he has said to you over the past 25 minutes.

in your defense, it wasn't your fault. but it wasn't entirely peter's fault either. you were both in a bad mood, and one small remark turned into this. neither of you knew it was going to become a huge argument.

"get out. parker." you yelled, you didn't care it was raining outside. he'll figure it out.

you could see peter's face before he slammed the door shut. he seemed regretful, but it was too late anyways.

fuck. you need coffee, no milk.

a few hours went by, then one day, and then it turned into 5 days.

all you've seen in the past 5 days are empty cups of coffee, the laundry basket piling up, the non-stop rain, and those soggy flowers that keep appearing by the fire escape.

you knew it was from peter.

it was one of peter's ways of showing love to you. he did it loads of times before. on the mornings of your birthdays, some days of your anniversary, and just days where peter knows you're having a hard time.

and being spider-man has its perks, one of them being he can trash your fire escape whenever. with those flowers getting mushy from overwatering by the rain, and those crumpled up pieces of paper with ink smudging.

letters from peter.

you realized it was his handwriting pretty quickly, but you were petty. so you chose to ignore it for a while.

until today.

you couldn't stand being mad over your boyfriend for too long. especially with those flowers slowly piling up in your fire escape along with those letters. and your phone wallpaper being peter smiling so widely wasn't helping either.

you miss him.

and after looking at those letters from peter getting ruined by the rain on your fire escape. you decide to write him one.

a letter, one where you're sorry.

for peter,

i hate it when we fight, and the way you always apologize first.

i hate how much i miss you, and how i couldn't show it.

i hate how i miss your stupid hair, and your stupid smile. i hate how i miss your touch and how you make my heart run a mile.

i hate how i even miss the moments where you'd come into my apartment like a wounded puppy, i've always hated how you make me worry. and i hate how you never fail to make me smile even if you're all bloody.

i hate the way you caress my cheek and the way my face burns from your touch.

i hate how i can feel your eyes on me when i look away. and i hate how much i'm in love with you, and the way i miss your nerdy jokes.

i hate how much love you give me, so much it makes me sick.

i hate it when you're not around, especially because you didn't call.

but mostly i hate the way i don't hate you,

not even close,

not even a little bit,

not even at all.

p.s i kept the flowers, and the ruined letters. and call me. i miss your voice. 💋

[cringe-but-proud]

So I am totally in love with Regulus and I saw you were taking requests for him so I thought I would ask for an idea that has been on my mind for a bit.

So basically it’s grumpy x sunshine with Reggie and Fem!reader. Maybe there in the library and Reggie is listening to reader go over the books she's read like she rambling as Reggie just listen and occasionally comments you can add more if you like!!

If this makes you comfortable please feel free to ignore this request!

OMG YES. GUYS I FUCKING LOVE REGULUS BLACK.

Sorry. I'm normal.

Regulus black x Fem!Reader

A/n: I didn't wanna write about a book no one knew about, so I decided to play it safe and make reader like Romeo and Juliet. Also my requests are open (and I'm always happy to write about my babygirl, pookie bear, pathetic little meow meow, Regulus Black)

Regulus honestly didn't know how he got to this point. Y/n was never supposed to be anyone special to him. They'd been partnered up together for a Herbology project and as soon as it was over, he was supposed to never talk to her again.

But, of course, as always, things couldn't be that simple for him.

And now, here he was, studying with her almost everyday. Studying might not be the best word for it, a lot of the time it was just the two of them hanging out in the library together. But, he wasn't going to admit he enjoyed hanging out with Y/n. Just like how he wasn't going to admit that he'd developed feelings for her.

The two of them sat in the library like they did almost everyday. Y/n was rambling to him about a book she had to read for her history of magic class.

"I just don't understand why assigned reading is always so boring. That's the reason so many people don't like reading, I think. It's because they only read books that they're forced to read in school, and almost all of those books are boring, so they assume every book is boring, and then they hate reading."

Regulus was used to this. Y/n was always quite talkative. She could go on for hours about pretty much any subject. He didn't mind. He liked listening to her.

"The last time I remember actually enjoying a book I was forced to read for school was when I read Romeo and Juliet. But, a lot of people hated reading Romeo and Juliet, but I think that's just because it's written in old-time-y language, y'know?"

"What's Romeo and Juliet?" Regulus asked curiously.

Y/n paused at that. "Seriously?"

Regulus felt himself begin to blush. Was he supposed to know what that was? Did he sound dumb? "I mean, I know it's a book, but..." he shrugged.

"You've never heard of Romeo and Juliet."

He shook his head.

"How is that even possible?" She chuckled. "It's a classic! It's the classic. I thought-"

"Is it a muggle book?"

She paused at his question. "Well, yeah."

"That's why I've never heard of it. My mother doesn't let me read muggle books."

"Not even Romeo and Juliet?" Y/n shook her head. "That's insane."

"Yeah..." Regulus sighed. His mother was one of the reasons he couldn't admit he had feelings for Y/n. His mother would definitely not approve of Y/n. She wasn't the type of person that the Black family associated with. She was too bubbly, too kind, too accepting of others despite whatever differences they might have. Too happy.

"Anyways," Regulus shook the thoughts of his mother out of his head. "What's it about?"

Y/n smiled. "I can't believe I'm about to explain the plot of Romeo and Juliet to someone."

"Sorry..."

"No, no! I'm excited. It'll be fun." She said reassuringly. "Ok, first of all, it's not really a book. It's a play. But, you never get to just watch the play, you always have to read it in school." She explained. "It's a tragedy written by Shakespeare who's like, a super important guy who wrote a bunch of plays during the Renaissance."

Regulus nodded along as she spoke.

"His most well known play is Romeo and Juliet, which is a romantic tragedy about two starcrossed lovers."

"So..." He was curious now. "What happens in it?"

"Are you asking me to spoil it for you?"

"I guess."

"Romeo and Juliet both die at the end." She says. "Which technically isn't a spoiler, because at the very beginning of the play, there's a prologue where they tell you 'Hey, they both die in the end', but whatever."

Regulus didn't expect that. "And you... liked reading this?"

"Yeah." She shrugged.

"Why?"

"Well..." She thought about it for a moment. "I've always liked romance. And even though this one obviously doesn't have a happy ending, it's still a classic. And I like seeing all the different adaptations of it."

"Adaptations?"

"Oh!" She lit up. "That's another thing! Another reason it's so popular is because there are a bunch of different versions of the story. People make movie versions of it all the time, there's this really good musical, west side story that's based off of it." She gasped. "We should watch one together!"

He blushed at the thought. Watching a movie with her? Like a date? "We should?"

"Yeah! I mean, only if you want to. But, I think it'd be really fun!"

"So..." He looked away. "Tonight?"

"What?"

"I mean, do you want to watch it tonight?"

Y/n was a bit surprised he was so eager to do this. "Yeah. Yeah, sure." She smiled. "We can make popcorn, and get a bunch of blankets and pillows, make it a whole experience." She gathered her things from the table they were sitting at. "Does that sound good?"

Regulus nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "Sounds amazing."

"Great." She gave him a quick hug. "I'll see you tonight."

Maybe her eyes were playing tricks on her, but she could've sworn she saw a blush creep on to his cheeks before she turned to walk away.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

By His Command 1

Summary: you arrive at your new household to serve. (Handmaid AU)

Warning: this series will contain violence, dystopian aspects, rape and noncon, blood, coercion, possible pregnancy and other dark elements. Please read these warnings and beware.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Note: you're screaming at me, why are you starting another AU and I got my fingers in my ears like na nana boo noo.

Oh and there may be more commanders to come...

Anyway, thoughts and prayers welcome for my lost soul. Also feedback and comments if you dont mind. Maybe a reblog. 💕💕💕💕

You watch the cloud of your breath in the cold air. The grey sky stretches endlessly on, as flat as anything else in this pallid world. A white blur trims the edge of your vision, that every present brim, a facsimile of a halo. You are not a fallen angel but a disgraced sinner, sentenced to penance, fated to serve another's salvation.

You clasp your hands together, red gloves chafing roughly, wool scratching your raw skin. You look down at the scarlet ripples, the endless crimson that marks you for exactly what you are. You pull at a stray thread and let it fall away.

You raise your head and stare at the opaque screen that separates you from the man in black. The guardian drives on across the fields paled by an early frost, dried grasses wilted beneath the premature winter. You take another frigid breath and lean forward, hovering your hand before the small vent in the door. Nothing.

You sit back. You know better than to complain. There is no one for you to complain to. No one who cares. You are not a person with feelings and thoughts. You are a vessel, to be filled and emptied over and over. You repress a shudder and keep your welling eyes aimed out the tinted window.

You dip your head and hide beneath the broad brim of your white bonnet. You clutch your hands tight and wade through the mounting panic in your chest. The women who left the centre didn't often come back, and when they did, it was never pleasant. Still, you would give anything to go back. There you know what the worst and the best is.

You don't know much of what awaits you, only that it floods you with dread. A commander and his wife, but what else? Will he be cruel? Will she hate you? Will you be able to do what you were trained to?

You part your hands and bring them up your arms, hugging yourself. You can't remember the last time anyone held you. The last time anyone dared touch you. Even when you laid screaming before the other handmaids, hands bloody, back welted, no one dared come near you, no one thought to comfort you.

The SUV turns and you force your eyelids apart. You sniffle and wipe your nose with the coarse wool glove. There is a low stone fence that trails the long winding road towards a tall gate. The tires slow as your heart piques and you choke on terror.

At a halt, you hear the man's voice in the front seat, through the barrier that divides you. For order, for chasteness, for your debasement. You are not worthy. You are emblazoned as a blasphemer.

The car rolls on, jerking you back against the seat. A slow draw that brings into view shedding hedges, stone benches, a fountain, a lawn that expands before you. You watch the birds flutter, marveling at their peace, and a leaf drifts down in a calm path to the ground. A serenity that so starkly counterbalances the chaos blooming in your chest.

You veer around the curved arm of the driveway and once more stop. The engine rolls over and quiets. The front door opens and you flinch. Steps tramp and come around, a shadow awaiting you on the otherside as the locks slide back.

The guardian opens the door and you grab the red valise on your feet. You turn your legs over the side of the seat and step out, heels clacking off the hard stone. The man steps back, gripping the strap of his gun.

"Go," he nods his chin in the direction of the house.

You look over at the grand facades, stone and mortar in a centurion style, rooves high and looming, a balcony with a naked trellis below. You gulp and march forward, grasping the round handle of your bag with both hands. The man trails you, keeping you on course as his steps echo your own.

You get to the first step and raise your foot, setting in on the stope edge. The front door opens and steals your attention from the hem of your skirt. You look up as a Martha emerges in her green smock and apron. Her faces is blotchy and her grimace is deepset.

"Come, OfLloyd," she beckons you with a curt wave, "we must prepare for the Commander's return."

[monster-disaster]

[orc] Zorag Iron - 1/3

orc!Zorag Iron x human!Reader - 1/3 Good to know: enemies to lovers

Summary: You go into the office to help out your father. You meet Zorag.

A/N: My first story in this blog begins in Ironridge with the boss's daughter and Zorag the orc.

The pitter-patter of heavy raindrops echoes in the small building. The drumming on the metal roof is a constant hum in the background. A low rumble mixes with the noises every now and again. It comes from the mountains, vibrating through the air. Another lighting flashes in the distance. And another thunder shakes the office. You can barely hear the clicking of the keyboard as you work on another email. You have to think through your words several times because your attention wanders away from the bright screen every few minutes. You glance at the window again. Droplets run down the glass. Rain cascades down from the dark sky. The light of your laptop highlights the slope of your nose and the curve of your lips. Your eyes seem brighter under the whiteness of the webpage.

Well, the forecast was wrong. You don't even remember the last time you saw the sun for more than a few minutes.

Suddenly, your attention focuses on the tall figure getting closer through the heavy curtain of the rain. He looks like a shadow in his dark clothes and boots. You can't see his face because of the hood of his coat. His movements are fast despite his burly stature.

Before you know it, the door of the office opens and shuts with a loud bang, and the floor gets covered in mud and water within a few moments.

The soaked fabric falls back from his head, showing you his black dreadlocks and frowning expression. You match his reaction.

"Do you really have to bring in all the dirt from outside?" You break the silence first. "Doormats exist for a reason." The small wrinkle between his thick brows deepens. "I didn't know you were here," he grunts. "So if I'm not here, it's okay to be dirty."

Zorag's head already hurts as he stares at you. The persistent throbbing at the back of his skull gets worse with each word you say.

"Why are you even here?" Zorag asks. "There is nothing to do in this weather," he points at the window. The long rows of timbers glisten with dark sheen in the midst of the downpour. Wide puddles gather and shimmer on the sawdust-covered ground. Rolling your eyes, you straighten your posture. "I know that." Your father got sick a few days ago after working in the pouring rain. He is now home under your mother's care while you are in the office, helping out. Even though the other workers can't do much in this weather, you can still get some jobs done on the computer. "And I'm working," you reply to his original question. "But what are you doing here? You know, besides ruining the floor." Your snarky comment meets with Zorag's growl. His lips pull up in a grimace, showing off his teeth and drawing your attention to his teeth. The hoops around the base of his tusks match the ring hanging from his nose. "I came here to make sure the storages are closed and protected from the rain." "Well," you huff. "They are closed. I checked them in the morning."

The orc says nothing for long seconds. His nostrils flare, and his eyes darken. You know he tries to keep his patience in check. Nothing good comes from fighting with the boss's daughter even though you already did it several times and you never used your position against him.

"So you can clean up after yourself and go."

The deep rumble of his chest mixes with the thunder vibrating in the dark clouds. You can feel it both in your bones and between your legs. Your thighs clench for some friction.

"Listen, woman!" "What?" You snap. "It's your mess!"

And damn it, you are right. Zorag just hates it when he has to obey you, especially when your lips curl into that annoying smile that shouts arrogance and victory. His thick fingers tighten into fists. The black raincoat stretches around his trunk-like arms.

"You can find everything you need in the storage room," you add when the tall orc continues glaring at you without saying anything.

You turn back to your laptop while Zorag reluctantly moves to the storage room to mop up the floor after himself. You are eyeing the screen again, trying to remember where you left it, but your mind isn't as obedient as the orc in front of you. Zorag's tall and sturdy form fills the small space. He almost looks comical as he mops up the metal floor. He could break the stick with ease, even in an accident. Small drops still fall from his thick hair, soaking his coat and leaving a few faint marks on the ground.

You should really focus on work. You didn't leave your house early in the morning to get anything done. Just a few emails and a quick check of the orders and deliveries. You should be done with them already.

"Why did you come in anyway?" He asks but doesn't look at you. "You can do them at home too." "I left the laptop here," you reply. "And I wanted to leave the house a bit. It gets boring." He grunts in answer, but you have no idea if it's an agreement or not.

"It's done," Zorag grunts, disappearing into the other room for a second. "I'm going home." "Bye." You don't even look at him. You stared at him long enough already.

The door closes behind him, and you abandon your mailbox to try something else. The messages can wait. Your gaze swipes over the documents with long lists of dates and names. Most of them are familiar. Clients for years.

You pause on a company name in the nearby city with today's date.

Fuckfuckfuck

Jumping up from the chair, you grab your things, lock the door and run out of the pouring rain with a sudden urgency. Your raincoat hangs from your arm with your bag on your shoulder. Your hair and clothes get soaked within a few seconds. The cold drops run down your temple and stick your shirt to your body.

The door of one of the storages opens with loud creaks as you pull on the heavy metals. Your shoes slip in the mud, and you really need all your strength to open the building.

Your day couldn't get any better.

Zorag watches the whole scene from inside his car. He should leave. Why does he care what you are doing in your free time?

"What are you doing?" His voice booms through the sound of the rain behind you. "Oh my god!" You groan. "Why are you still here?" "What are you doing, woman?" He questions you stubbornly. "We have a delivery for today," you tell him, handing him the paper as you step into the building. You are grateful the rain doesn't reach you anymore, but it doesn't matter, anyway. You are soaked. "Leave it to me," he says after reading the paper. "Go home and… change your clothes." You will get sick if you stay like this. You are almost offended as he looks over you with his usual grimace. You scoff. "I can do it." "I didn't say you can't." "Then go home." If you are lucky enough, you will be home before the night falls. It shouldn't take long since the city is close, and you know the way without a navigator. For the orders, a smaller van would be enough with the company's logo on it. It calms you down a bit. You wouldn't feel comfortable driving a bigger vehicle.

Meanwhile, Zorag watches with a deep frown and a light snarl on his lips. His eyes are even darker than the sky outside. You definitely know what you are doing, and for a second, he almost turns out of the building to leave you if you are so stubborn, but damn it. He knows he will feel guilty later. His ma didn't raise an orc who would leave a woman without helping her first.

"Get in the car," he says after a while. "I will pack the things we need. And I will drive."

- Masterlist Ironridge Masterlist Patreon

[stylesispunk]

"I couldn't want you anymore" part 5

Artist! Joel Miller x Florist! Reader

series masterlist | previous chapter | next

summary: when Sarah's mom comes back into Joel's life to fight for their past relationship, Joel needs to convince her he is in a happy relationship with the florist next to his gallery in order to make her go away. The problem is, that he and the florist can't stand each other's guts or that it's what he thinks.

warning: age gap (Joel is 36 and reader is 28). Remember that "Bee" is reader's nickname, fluff, some feelings are being confessed (again), angst (poor reader) mentions of an accident, and conflicted emotions.

a/n: This one is more than 6k. I don't love this one as the last one, but I wanted to deliver this one to you. Sorry for the drama during this chapter, I was PMSing haha. Reblogs and comments are always appreciated, please share your thoughts with me, I love reading your comments and send ne any ask if you want ❤️ Sorry for any grammar mistake.💌 p.s the first line is a reference to all too well 😭

masterlist

After 3 long months in the grave. The flowers died of thirst. The place that once seemed full of life, now it was an empty street of broken pieces left behind by your ghost, and for Joel, passing by your shop every day seemed to be the hardest task of his life.

As time passed by, the cobblestones outside your shop remained empty, echoing the silence of what once was the first page of you and him. Joel couldn’t help but wonder how he had let something as precious as that slipped through his fingers, a regret that would haunt him for a long time to come. 

Meanwhile, you found yourself far away from the streets of that life. Still in town, but trying to leave behind any trace of him and the painful memories of the night Joel broke your heart.

Your place now was next to Connell. After your castle crumbled, he was there, and before life separated the both of you, he fit in your life. He built the fire to kept you warm after the storm that left you stranded, and both of you had made the decision to give your love story a second chance. This time, taking tiny steps to build a steady castle. After all, he acted like a prince, taking you out on dates, and expressing his affection through gestures that left you feeling unworthy of his kindness. 

 You had become someone you weren’t. The one with the knife, a liar.

And these few weeks leading up to your new life in London were fulfilled by different emotions. You were busy taking care of some things, closing down your flower shop, and making arrangements for your upcoming journey. It was a bittersweet time filled with farewells to old friends, packing up your life, and starting to write the pages of your new book.  

But you still thought of Joel, the memories of him were hard to erase. He remained a lingering presence in your thoughts. You could still see you both lost in those memories, but it was never real. You shared something that didn’t work beyond words and fake actions for the world to see. And you just hated your persistent temptation to ask what would be different if you had never let those three words escaped from your lips. You may still have moments together, he may still have been part of you, but at what cost?

During the course of these three months, Lily and Tommy got together. The news left you speechless at the beginning. You were happy for them even when it was unexpected. You never saw the signs or you were just mesmerized by the other Miller to even notice Tommy was making his way through your best friend’s heart. Now, they were building their own love story, creating a heartwarming contrast to your journey. Their relationship served as a reminder that love could be found in different places. 

But for you, moving on wasn’t easy. The pain of a broken heart, mixed with the sweet memories you were leaving behind alongside the life you once knew, weighed heavily on your mind. And the biggest fear heightening over your shoulders was the intense fear of hurting Connell. 

Connell, the one thing you did right in your life. The man you knew you wanted to marry once you met him, who had always treated you right. The thought of causing him to regret you because of pain was almost unbearable.

You knew he deserved nothing but happiness, and you wondered if your relationship with Joel had permanently damaged your capacity to truly commit to and reciprocate his love.

Of course, you loved him, but you just weren’t in love with him.

And you found yourself almost every night deeply sighing in the middle of the night, wondering if Joel was still up thinking about you the same way you still thought about him. And you bet he thought you still hated him, even when you had spent the last three months thinking about the minimal chance of him coming back to you, asking for your forgiveness, and stopping you from going to another country to start a new life. 

But after three months, he had gone radio silent, and you were dreaming about him touching your face, asking if you wanted to try it for real this time.

And you despise yourself for it.

You had Connell giving you all his love, and you were becoming a knife ripping his heart.

Connell had been the one in charge of helping you to sell your shop, as you didn’t want to spend the time in that place and accidentally running into Joel.

Saying goodbye to the place you made so many memories was hitting hard on you, and you could see the love and concern in Connell’s eyes as he told he had managed the sale. Nevertheless, he spared you from details of the buyer’s identity and only walked straight to your room without uttering more words. He carried the weight of this decision on your behalf.

the next day, when he was supposed to go to the shop and give the new owner the keys of your now ex-flower shop. An emergency call prevented him from going, so he told you to go instead. 

And you couldn’t lie, even when you had decided to distance yourself from your shop and everything associated with your past, the thought of saying a final goodbye in person didn’t seem like a bad idea. You wonder about the new owner's identity, the person who would now hold the keys to a place that had been a special of your life. 

As you stood outside the shop, you took a deep breath to steady your trembling hands, so you stepped inside. The familiar scent of what was left of the flowers that once adorned the place, and the soft glow of sunlight streaming through the windows, made your heart break at the thought of leaving. 

But in the end, your eyes fell upon the last person you expected to see, Joel. He seemed just as taken aback as you were. 

“Bee,” he said, softly,  making himself believe you were in front of him.

Your name seemed foreign slipping through his lips, the same ones brushing over your skin not long. 

You even feared speaking and risking another goodbye.

For a moment, time stopped, as if the world outside these walls didn’t exist. Your heart pounded in your chest.

Your heart raced as your eyes locked onto his, and a mix of emotions surged within you.

"Joel," you finally managed to say, your voice carrying surprise. His presence stirred memories, both beautiful and painful, and it was hard for you to face them. "What are you doing here?"

Joel hesitated, his eyes searching yours for a sign of understanding. "I… Connell sold your shop to Tommy” he said. 

Your heart constricted at the mention of Connell selling the shop to Tommy. You knew there was more behind that statement. You had gotten to know Joel to know he was lying through his teeth right now, but you had rather ignore that feeling settling in your heart. 

He cleared his throat. “I didn’t know you’d be here.” 

"Tommy bought the shop?" you asked, trying to wrap your head around the situation.

Joel nodded, his gaze never leaving yours. "Yes, he did. He thought it would be nice since you love this place so much.”

That stirred a mix of emotions within you, but you pushed them aside for the moment. “And why are you here instead?

“He couldn’t make it and I thought Connell was coming” Joel answered, "But it’s nice to see you.”

The tension in the room was palpable, and the weight of unspoken words hung heavily in the air between you and Joel. The past few weeks, becoming in three months , had left their mark, and you weren't sure how to navigate life with those permanent wounds. 

Joel's presence, felt so strange to you now. The familiarity of his face, his voice, and the way he looked at you brought back a flood of memories of the stolen kisses you found yourself missing so much. 

“When are you leaving?” He asked, knowing that this would be the last time he was going to be able to have you in front of him. 

“In a week” you answered shortly. 

Joel's heart sank at the confirmation. He had everything in his hands to prevent the end of your story, but he didn’t want to stop you from finding peace and happiness in the arms of a man who truly deserved you in every way. You had chosen to start a new chapter in London with Connell, and he was the character from a chapter you were leaving behind.

He looked at you, searching for something in your eyes, a glimpse of the love you told him you felt for him. But it was hard to read your emotions. You felt a foreigner before his eyes. 

"I see," he replied, trying to hide the pain in his voice.

The room felt heavy with unsaid words and unfinished written pages. You both had left things unsaid, Joel especially, and the future was uncertain. You couldn't help but feel the pull of what once was, even as you tried to move forward with your life.  

Joel realized he had to make his peace with your decision. He had been given a chance to say those three words, three months ago, and he had to accept that he had ruined his opportunity with you. Your upcoming goodbye was a reminder that time was running out for him to say what needed to be said.

"Bee, I won't hold you back," he said, his voice gentle. "But before you go, there's something I need to tell you."

Your gaze met his, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes. There was a vulnerability in him that you had rarely seen. Joel's next words would be crucial and may be a turning point for both of you.

As Joel was on the edge of saying something, the door chimed softly as it opened.

It was Connell. His entrance created an unexpected interruption, and the atmosphere grew tense.

You shared a brief glance with Joel, and the weight of the unspoken words lingered heavily.

Joel addressed Connell first; his voice laced with an attempt to save you from any problem. "We were just saying goodbye.”

Connell acknowledged this with a nod but couldn't shake the feeling that he had walked into something else.  

“I thought you were busy,” you said to Connell, walking to his side.

“I finished earlier” he gave you a small smiled as he touched one of your arms “You can wait for me outside” he told you, trying to give you reassurance.

You nodded, glancing one last time at Joel, the tension remained inside the room, and the words Joel had been on the verge of sharing with you were left hanging in the air.

And you finally exited the room, saying your last goodbye to Joel without uttering a word. 

Once you left the shop, Connell spoke first, his voice carrying a serious tone "Joel, I know you want her to forgive you, but I want you to know that she's important to me and I love her."

Joel nodded, understanding the weight of Connell's words. "I know, Connell. And you've been good to her. I've seen that."

Connell hesitated, searching Joel's eyes for sincerity. "She deserves to be happy.” 

Joel's gaze was unwavering as he replied, "I know she does. And if that means she's happier with you, then I won't stand in the way."

Connell kept silence for a moment. “You didn’t tell her, did you?”

Joel shook his head.

“Thank you. She would have killed me if she knew I sold the shop to you”, Connell said, with a tint of humor in his tone. 

Joel managed a small smile at Connell's comment. It was an attempt to lighten the atmosphere even though the underlying tension remained. "I wouldn't have wanted to give her another reason to be mad at me."

Connell nodded in understanding. "I appreciate that, Joel. I just want her to have a fresh start, free from all this mess”

Joel's gaze turned thoughtful. "I want that too, Connell. She deserves to move on and be happy."

Connell looked at Joel for a moment. “You made her happy too. Don’t blame yourself too hard, Joel” 

Joel met Connell's gaze, gratitude and sadness intertwined in his eyes. "Thank you, Connell. It means a lot to hear that from you."

The two men shared a silent moment, the weight of feeling they both share for you intertwined lives somehow.

Joel took a deep breath, finally breaking the silence. "I should get going. You both have a new life to start."

Connell extended his hand, and Joel shook it firmly. "Take care of her, Connell."

Connell nodded; his grip steady. "I will, Joel. And you take care of yourself too."

With that, Joel turned and walked away, leaving behind the memories he shared with you inside this place, the first stolen glances, the fighting, the laughter, and the cups of coffee you left for him every morning. All that being left behind, buried.  

As Joel stepped out of the shop, he turned and locked eyes with you for what felt like the last time. The weight on both of your hearts hung in the air. In that fleeting moment, your gazes held longing and hurt. You were the tear hanging inside his heart. 

And Joel's eyes searched yours for a final glimpse of love. He had wanted to say so much, but the timing had never been right, and now it was too late, but he hoped that you’d find your way back in the end. 

You met his gaze with sadness and understanding. There was something about him that made your heart clench. He had been the man who touched your soul before your skin, and how would it be possible for you to forget about that?

You offered a small nod, and he returned it in kind, sharing that secret language you both learned, as a silent goodbye. 

Was that “I love you” the worst thing he had ever heard?

And then, as quickly as it had begun, Joel turned and walked away, disappearing into the distance. The chapter you had shared was closing, and as he faded from view, you knew it was time to look ahead, to embrace the new beginning that awaited next to Connell miles away. 

Connell watched that unspoken interaction and sensed the weight on your shoulders. He walked over to you, and gently pressed a kiss on your forehead, as a tender gesture, a silent promise of a future without wounds to take care of.  With his kiss, he silently looked for reassurance that you weren’t having second thoughts. 

.....

The warmth of the evening had set the perfect backdrop for a dinner in the backyard. You and Connell had prepared a delightful spread of chicken, grilled vegetables, and a bottle of wine that Connell had selected for sharing with your friends. Lily and Tommy sat around the wooden patio table, the soft glow of string lights overhead casting a warm glow.

As Tommy and Connell got engrossed in a conversation about their favorite sports teams, you and Lily found yourselves drawn to the quieter solace of the backyard. There, under the starry sky, you could speak without being overheard.

You looked at them, attentive, with a serious expression, your eyes reflected the soft, flickering light.  

Lily glanced at you; concern etched across her face. "A penny for your thoughts, Bee bee?” 

You took a deep breath, “I think I’m a little bit nervous about next week.” 

Lily's eyes filled with understanding as she listened intently. “Nervous about London? Or leaving Joel behind?”

Your gaze shifted, and you looked at Lily with surprise. It was as if she had read your thoughts, as always. You nodded slowly. "Both, actually.” 

Lily leaned in closer, her voice a soft, comforting murmur. "Bee, it's okay to have mixed feelings. Leaving behind a place and someone who meant so much to you is never easy. But it's also the beginning of this new adventure with Connell."

You sighed, feeling grateful for Lily's understanding. She made you feel at ease with your racing thoughts. “I just wish it were simpler, you know? I don't want to hurt anyone. I couldn’t forgive myself if I hurt Connell” 

At that moment, your and Connell's gazes met from the distance. He gave you a big smile which you mirrored, but it didn’t reach your eyes. 

You felt Lily’s hand on yours as a gesture of reassurance. “You have a big heart, Bee. Connell loves you for who you are. Trust in that."

Lily's words were a soothing balm to your worried mind. Her support and the warm of her friendship alongside the starry evening created a special moment in her last days in this place. You knew that leaving the past behind was never a straightforward journey, but it was reassuring to have a friend who understood your complexities.

As Connell's gaze met yours and you exchanged smiles, once again, you realized that your anxieties didn't mean you loved him any less. The weight of the past could coexist with the past, and maybe you could learn how to fall in love with him again. 

Joel managed a fragile smile, and he held your hand as if it were the lifeline he needed at that moment.

Sarah and Tommy lingered in the doorway, watching the two of you with tiny smiles on their faces. 

Joel spoke softly, "I'm sorry for worrying you, Bee."

You shook your head, your voice filled with genuine concern. "Don’t say anything” you said as you laid your head on his chest, as if hearing the beating of his heart would reassure you, he was going to be okay.

As you leaned your head against Joel's chest, seeking comfort in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, you didn't notice Connell watching the two of you from the hospital lobby. His expression was unreadable. There was concern, understanding, and a tinge of jealousy. 

Connell had supported you through everything since you both were eighteen years old, and he loved you deeply. But seeing you in this moment with Joel stirred emotions within him that he couldn't fully process, leaving a siren in his mind.

Sarah and Tommy decided to leave the room, giving the two of you some privacy. Joel's hand gently rested on your back, his fingers tracing comforting patterns down your spine as if his fingers were brushes tracing lines on your back.

Joel spoke again "Bee, I know I've made a mess of things, but I want you to know that you mean a lot to me. More than I can put into words."

You didn't respond with words. Instead, you tightened your grip on him, holding him close, and Connell remained in the background, his thoughts and feelings his own, as you and Joel found peace in each other's presence. 

Once you were back home, you were awfully quiet for Connell’s like. He had seen the way your face sparkled when you were with Joel in his room, how you held him tight, and how you seemed terrified at the thought of losing him.

It was the moment in which Connell realized he wasn’t the one anymore, but he didn’t want to admit it. He wanted to hold onto the memories. 

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked you, trying to make you talk.

Connell's voice pulled you out of the storm inside your mind since your arrival from the hospital. You turned to face him, offering a faint smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

"I'm okay, Connell," you replied, though your tone carried a hint of sadness. "Just a lot to process."

He nodded; concern showed across his features. "I understand. It's a lot to take in. But you know I'm here for you, right?"

You appreciated Connell's support more than you could express. He had been a rock in your life. It was just the reappearance of Joel after these three months and the accident had stirred up a multitude of feelings you thought didn’t exist. 

"I do,” you said, reaching out to take his hand. "You've been amazing, and I love you for that."

Connell's smile brightened at your words, and he squeezed your hand gently. "I love you too” he declared as he kissed your temple, as a way to find reassurance. 

You hugged Connell tightly as if to reassure yourself that you were still grounded in the present, even as the past loomed large in your heart and mind.

But for Connell, the pages were clearly written and he knew your heart didn’t belong to him anymore. 

One week later, and the night before your departure for London, everything seemed bittersweet around you. You were finished packing what was the last of your belongings, and the weight of leaving your life behind was the heavier suitcase you were carrying.

During the last week, you didn’t see Joel. All the updates about his recovery were through Lily, and the only thing you knew was that he had been dispatched from the hospital today.

You really wanted things between Connell and you to work out, so you made your promise to not see Joel again in order to do that. That night in the hospital was the goodbye you needed, and that was it. He was okay, so you were okay. You had bled, but your wounds would heal sooner than later. 

Nevertheless, Connell had been watching your movements for the last few days, and now, as you were carefully folding your clothes and going through the last-minute preparations. He found the strength to speak up. 

"There's something I've been thinking about," Connell began, his eyes reflecting the depths of his feelings.

You paused in your packing, looking into Connell's eyes, eager to hear what he had to say. "What is it?”

Connell took a deep breath, struggling to find the right words. " I don't want to be the reason for your regrets."

Your heart pounded in your chest as Connell spoke, tears welled up in your eyes. 

“You love him,” he said in a breathy voice. 

He wasn’t thinking about himself anymore, or where you would go after this, he was thinking about you. 

“Connell, we’re leaving tomorrow. I’m with you and I love you” you whispered, trying to convince him, and mostly yourself at the same time. 

Connell nodded, his own eyes brimming with tears. "You love me, I know, but you’re not in love with me.” 

You wiped away a tear, your voice trembling. "Connell"

“You’re in love with Joel and he is in love with you”, he declared.

As much as he was devasted by the thought of letting you go, he wanted you to be happy. He would give you everything, even when he would be a little in between for a while.

You shook your head. “He isn’t.”

“Then why did he buy your shop?”

“What?” Your eyes widened. You felt shocked and confused. “Why?”

Connell reached out and took your hand, his touch warm and reassuring. "I think he did it because he thought you would come back and because he is in love with you.” 

Connell gazed at you with a mixture of sadness and love. "And I love you enough to let you go” " He said “You need more time to figure things out, and I don’t want you to go with me if you can’t do that.”

His words pierced your heart. 

“I don’t want you to hate me,” you said, whispering. 

Connell chuckled softly, Connell squeezed your hand gently, and then he cupped your face with his hand to look at you in the eyes. “Nothing you say or you do would make me hate you” You leaned in his touch and hugged him tightly, crying on his shoulder.

“I love you more than I could express.” You mumbled.

Connell held you tightly, his embrace filled with love, even though he knew it was time to let you go. His heart was heavy.

And the next morning, with one last, lingering kiss, you and Connell let each other go. You watched him boarding the plane, and as it took off, your eyes watered, you let your tears fall down your cheeks.

That plane carried Connell away from your life again, and you held onto the final image of Connell, offering a gentle wave and a bittersweet smile, muttering an “I love you” at you before disappearing from your sight. 

Once you got in your car, you felt the weight of your emotions pressing down on you like a heavy blanket suffocating you. All the love, guilt, sadness, and anger crunched your heart, leaving you alone with your thoughts. 

In the spare of seconds, Joel came to your mind and you felt anger surging through your veins like fire. You couldn’t help but blame him for ruining the opportunity you had to move on. You questioned yourself why you still wanted to go back to him and why he was coming back to you in your dreams as if he wanted to taunt you, and your frustration grew.

With a burning feeling settled in your chest, you made your way to Joel's house. You couldn't understand why he had bought your shop, why he had disrupted your life once again, so once you arrived, you stormed out of the car, determined to confront him. 

 You stood at his doorstep, your knuckles brushing against the wood, your heart pounding in your chest. When the door opened, there he stood, still bandaged from the accident. He looked surprised at seeing you here. 

"Joel," you began, your voice laced with anger. "Why?”

His brows furrowed, and he stammered "Bee, I thought you'd be on a plane to London with Connell by now."

You met his surprised gaze with anger. "I was supposed to be, but Connell stopped me from it.” 

Joel seemed surprised, but something in his gaze showed relief at knowing you would still be here. He stepped aside, allowing you to enter his house, and you both moved to the living room. The familiar surroundings seemed to echo with memories of your last time together. The three words you confessed to him, the way he broke your heart, and then you walked out of his life. 

“Why did you lie to me?” you demanded “Why did you tell Tommy bought my shop, when it was really you?”

You were met with silence.

“Why did you buy it, Joel?” you shouted. 

“Because I knew you would come back to me,” he said, as a matter of fact. Simply as if he owned you.

Your anger flared at his audacity. "You can't just manipulate my life like that, Joel! You can't decide things for me without even asking” Your voice suddenly deepened. “And for what do you even want me?” you asked “For playing with my fee-“

Joel's lips crashed onto yours, and for a moment, you were stunned into silence. The kiss was intense and filled with all the longing and regret Joel felt. 

As he pulled away, his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that took your breath away. "I bought the shop because I couldn't bear to see you go without a chance for us to make things right."

You were caught between anger and desire, your heart racing from the sudden kiss. "Joel, you can't just kiss me and expect everything to be fixed."

He reached out to cup your face, even with one of his hands broken, his thumb gently tracing your cheek. "I'm not expecting that, Bee. I just needed you to know that I love you”

 Torn between your anger and the lingering love you felt, you took a step back, away from his touch.

“What?”

“I love you,” he said, not taking his eyes off you. “I’m in love with you.” 

Your eyes and mouth were wide open, but you still managed to shoot him a glare. You could pretend you didn’t hear him and leave. You didn’t trust yourself right now, but his big brown eyes prevented her from walking away.

He told you he was in love with you.

Your voice wavered as you replied, "Joel, you can't just say that now. Not after everything that happened."

He took a step closer, his eyes searching yours. "I know I should have said it earlier, and I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused. But it's the truth, Bee. I love you, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes me to make things right."

You struggled to maintain your composure, you were shocked,

“Are you going to say something?” he whispered. 

 "Joel, it's not that simple” you spoke

He nodded, his expression earnest. "I understand that. I know we have a lot to work through, and I'm willing to take the time and the effort.” 

Your heart ached at his words, and the internal battle you had been fighting raged on. "Joel, I need time to think and process all of this. I can't make any promises right now."

Joel reached out to gently touch your arm, a silent plea in his eyes. "I'll give you the time you need, Bee. Just promise me you won't leave” he said, cupping your face.

You found yourself relaxing with his presence and touch, by nodding your head as a silence promise. 

 "Okay,” you whispered.

Your head was a thunderstorm of infinite questions running through your head. You had so many, but you didn’t know where to start. 

He smiled at you, and that made you lose your mind and you don’t know what to do, what to express, or how to act. 

“I’m glad you’re okay” you whispered.

Joel's smile held a genuine warmth, and his thumb traced soothing patterns on your cheek. "I'm glad I'm okay too, and I'm grateful you're still here."

The two of you stood there in a moment of fragility as your eyes locked onto Joel’s.

You had to go before you lost your mind, and you needed space to clear your head. You took a step back, your gaze not quite meeting his. 

"I need to go now, Joel. I need time to think."

Joel's expression showed understanding, and he nodded. "I get it, Bee. Take all the time you need."

You turned and headed for the door; your steps were slow as if a string was pulling into him. The weight of what started as a simple game between you two, the confusion of the present and the uncertainty of the future were heavy on your shoulders. You needed time to heal your scars, to figure out what your heart truly wanted.

Before leaving, you glanced back at Joel, and for a brief moment, your eyes met again, unspoken words flowing in the air. Then, you stepped out, leaving behind the man who had both broken and mended your heart, and who now waited for your decision.

It was his time to wait now.

a/n: Okay, so now he bought the shop because he knew she was going to come back to him somehow and he wanted to have it for her because the flower shop was important to her and after all, he has the keys to her heart (yes, as cheesy as it sounds). Now, he has to fix everything and suffer a little because the reader (bee) has to be loved. btw I'm already thinking about the next fic

tags: @joeldjarin @borhapparker @fatima-marisa @kirsteng42 @paleidiot @harriedandharassed @runningmom94 @pedr0swh0r3 @ssacharcoalgrey