#it’s so late and I still haven’t posted this and I just realized i need to put tws

[straight4joekeery]

Teach Me How To Love In Your Own Lyrics

(Part five)

(TWS ⚠️: mentions homophobia and domestic violence; If you want to skip I’ll put blue dots before and after the scene. I’m sorry if there’s any other areas I missed that talk about this!)

Prev. Part one

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“So he dumped me! Get this! He said ‘is it that time of the month?’ Like he’s so wrong for that! I mean… he wasn’t literally wrong. But still. As a woman I feel attacked. Steve? Are you even listening?” See? Steve doesn’t lie. Very. Annoying.

“Yeah. That’s crazy.”

“What’s your problem today?”

“… nothing”

“Oh. My. God. Steve get over it. It’s been a month! Why would you even want to be friends with him? He killed Chrissy,” (OH NO SHE DIDN’T), “I think he should be behind bars,” (SHE DID), “he disappears for like a week and comes back with a brand new apartment. I don’t know Steve I think it’s kinda messed up-”

“JULIE,” The entire diner went silent. He waved and apologized to the workers before continuing a little quieter, “genuine question. Do you ever shut up?”

“I-“

“Let me finish,” she actually closed her mouth for once what a shock! “It’s not against the law for me to have a friend that I actually care for. You act like I can’t know people besides you. Plus to be honest, I’ve never even liked you. For one, you over share EVERYTHING. Yeah, sorry, news flash I could not care less about your dear dear Bradley boy and wether or not he loves you. And also I’m allowed to have opinions that differ from yours. You don’t have to argue about EVERYTHING. If I said ‘oh hey Julie look at the pretty blue sky’ you’d come up with a six page essay on how the sky isn’t BLUE.”

“You done?”

“Oh I could say more if you’d like,” he grinned. When she said nothing he went to continue his beautifully presented speech.

“Pass,” she interrupted, “I’m sorry Steve. I really am. But it’s not my fault you cannot form a sentence where the subject isn’t Eddie. You’d think you’re in love with him,” (OH REALLY??) the last words rang in his ears. He scoffed as he took the last sip of his shake. He aggressively stood up and thanked the waiter.

“Oh and thank you for paying Julie!” He smiled as he ran out the door. He jumped in the car and laughed. Laughed until he couldn’t breathe. He wondered where all this rage came from. Then he remembered that he promised himself to never yell at anyone…

• Suddenly he’s ten again. His dad had told him something stupid that Steve quite frankly didn’t agree with. He didn’t even yell at him he just said softly that he has a different opinion. But oh no. Richard wasn’t too happy about it. He yelled at Steve until he lost his voice. When he did he had to use the only other form of punishment he knew. He hit Steve. Once. Twice. Seven times. But no. That wasn’t enough. He grabbed Steve by the hair and slammed him into the wall. That’s how he got concussion number 1 (and 2,4, and 5). If you ask anyone else he knew at the time he fell of his bike (Which was believable considering that’s how he got the third one). He remembered going to school the next day and Tommy laughing at him because oh Steve, you’re so stupid. Oh. Tommy.

Now he’s back to age 14. There were two kids in his grade named Cory and Danny. They were both super nice kids. Got good grades, never did anything wrong. But one day Tommy wasn’t to fond of how close they were sitting at lunch. So as usual, he said something. Called them… the word. Now I mean sure, Steve wasn’t the nicest and called Johnathan a queer once. But that? He’d never do that. That’s way too far. He told Tommy to stop. He just pushed him away and said, “or what? Are you a little fairy too?” •

Thinking back on it so what? So what if he was gay? There’s nothing wrong with that. And yeah Julie, so what if he is in love with Eddie…Wait. Pause. What? He had to think for a hot second about that one. He thinks about Nancy and what it felt like to be in love with her. And yeah it’s a lot different actually, but not in the way he thinks. He thought about how he actually felt about Nance he loved her but no… the longer he thought about it the more he realized. He thought about Robin, and how yeah he obviously loves her too. In the same way he loved Nance.

But that’s like saying their whole relationship was a lie so no. He loved her. But… He was hyperventilating at this point. Okay well he’s obviously not gay because he hooked up with like 10 girls a month a while back. He did it in hopes for just the right girl. He hoped it ‘feel different’ with her. Different. Oh.

But he guessed that it doesn’t matter anyways, because Eddie doesn’t like Steve back. Right?

He had to stop thinking about it because he’s been sitting in the car for a while now and he can see Julie inside standing up finally. He pulls out of the parking lot and cranks down the window. Just breathing in the summer air. He makes it about half way home before he realizes that he drove Julie to the diner. Oops.

He turns on the radio. He still hasn’t changed the tape since the airport. He has to admit. This kind of music is growing on him. It’s loud he’ll give it that, but the more he listens the more he actually hears the lyrics. And they’re actually good. Like really good. He pulls up to his house and sits in the car for a bit longer. Just listening.

Once the tape is over he gets out. He unlocks the door and jumps onto the couch. He sees the copy of The Lord of the Rings that Dustin had gotten him after forcing him to watch the movies. He almost cried (but then he thought about his dads stupid words) when he got it. Mostly because it’s probably the best gift he’s ever gotten. But partly because he couldn’t read. After concussion number 13 (12? 14? He didn’t know. I wonder why he couldn’t remember!) he was never able to. The words blend together and make no sense anymore. Every time he picks up a book he gets an instant migraine. (Oh yeah because he gets those too now.) He picks it up anyway. He opens it and… yeah. “Pointless,” He sighed.

It’s the weekend for gods sake, and he just discovered the that his life was a lie (he honestly wasn’t even mad about it. He was happy. It felt like a 50 pound brick just got taken off his shoulder). He should be doing something fun. So he gets up and looks around. He could put on a movie. But then again he’s seen them all about 20 times since Eddie left. Yep he’s got nothing. He could… yeah nope absolutely nothing. He glanced towards the phone and shrugs. He dials the only number he has memorized.

“Hello?”

“Hey Vick!”

“Steve! How are you?”

“I’m good! Really good actually. Uh random question.”

“Hm?”

“Are you and Robin working today? Or just over the weekend in general?”

“I mean we are supposed to be but we can always just close up the shop. Why what’s up.”

“You guys want to go out for a drink? I’ll drive up there.”

Steve could practically here her smiling over the phone. She sighed, “I’ll go inform the wife,” she giggled.

“Thanks Vick, you’re the best.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. When will you head up here?”

“…now?”

She laughed, “yeah okay. See you in a bit!”

“Bye,” he put the phone back on the wall. He walked to his room to find a good outfit.

He put on his skinny jeans because in Eddie’s exact words, “they are very…Flattering?” He searched for a good shirt. Thankfully he expanded from his polo collection. He accidentally pushed a shirt off of its hanger and he couldn’t just leave it on the ground like a normal person because that would ruin “the image”. He picks it up and looks at it. It was a Nirvana shirt Eddie had bought him saying that, “this band will slowly ease you into metal. Grungey but surprisingly good.” He didn’t think they were to bad. He threw on the shirt for fun. It looked alright so he decided to stick with it. Plus it was actually very comfy. He went to walk out of his room when he saw it. Why did he still have it? It’s been seven years. But there it is in the corner of his room. The stupid battle vest. He thought he gave it back to Eddie. He picked it up and went to hang it up when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. I mean. He might as well. He threw on the jacket and… he looked good. Really good. He wondered why he never wore it before. He definitely pulled it off. He ran to the bathroom and grabbed the makeup bag he kept for when Robin came over (he swears it’s for Robin and Robin only). Go big or go home right? He pulled out three things: lipgloss (WHICH HE HAS NEVER USED AND IS ROBINS AND NOT HIS), mascara (WHICH HE HAS ALSO NEVER USED), and eyeliner. (Which he actually hadn’t ever used) He started with the lipgloss. Yep looks good like normal Wow Steve! He should have done this sooner. He put on the eyeliner. He had done this so many times on Robin it was practically muscle memory and… woah. It was… different to say the least. Then he put on the slightest bit of mascara on and checked himself out… for 5 minutes. He actually liked what he saw. He decided it was definitely time to go so he jumped in the car and drove up to his second home. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next

EEEEEE. YOU GO STEVE. Baddie era fr (I’ll never say that again I swear. Dw it pained me too). I feel kinda bad just giving him piles of trauma. This one’s gooooodddd tho. Sorry if it’s short, it was originally supposed to be combined with the next one but I’m hoping that one will be kinda long. Am I projecting Nirvana onto him? Yes. Ofc. Nirvana is great and deserves more attention in fics. I am stressing a lot over this. I have a post up on my page that like gives updates and spoilers and stuff. So I was saying how I stopped reading my English book for this. Oops. I also don’t even have another chapter written after this so it’s gonna be a fun little weekend project! Also crazy to think I’m most likely half way done. Anyways now the stuff no one cares about. Comment or reblog if you want to be tagged. (I am not being aggressive when I capitalize this I just need people to see it.) MAKE SURE YOU HAVE YOUR TAGS ON GUYS!! Here’s the tag list!: @asbealthgn , @queerbeansworld , @bird-with-pencils , @vecnuthy , @artiststarme , @captain-winter-wolf-aehs , @piningapple @rowendyss @steve-themom-harrington @lfaewrites @azreadytodie @thequeenrainacorn @pastel-dreamscape @importanttimemachinenerd @jehneeg @swagaliciousmarie @mightbeasleep @krazyperson @milkshakeflower @fando-random @bumblebeecuttlefishes @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369

I am going to cry I just found a much easier way to tag people. ⬇️⬇️

[javierpena-inatacvest]

You Make Loving Fun

Summary: You buy tickets to Fleetwood Mac for Javi's birthday. After a few drinks, Javi ends up having a little more fun than he intended.

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 6.1K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (wrap before you tap) oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, creampie, aftercare, implied? breeding kink (I think it's illegal for me to write if this isn't in the warnings somewhere) drinking alcohol, Javi gets absolutely HAMMERED, talks of having more kids and stopping birth control, Drunk Javi wants to tell anyone and everyone how much he loves his wife, Drunk Javi being sweet and happy and so in love because that's what he deserves

A/N: If you're anything like me, you've spent WAY too long looking at all of these photos of sweet Pedro at a concert, and of course, my brain automatically went "THAT'S JAVI GETTING WASTED AND HAVING THE TIME OF HIS LIFE" and now, here we are 🤷🏼‍♀️ I feel like Javi would be a very happy/affectionate drunk post-Colombia bc he is so happy just to be having fun and enjoying his life and that makes me ✨emotional✨ Also, thanks @itsokbbygrl for ruining my life by realizing the ring Pedro is wearing in this picture is on his RING FINGER?!?! 😩

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

“I feel to fucking old to be doing this.”

“To do what? Go to a concert? I hate to break it to you, Jav, but there are, in fact, no age limits at concerts. What, are you worried security is gonna try to kick you out for being too old?” You giggled, looking over at Javi next to you in the bathroom, finishing fixing his hair and adjusting his shirt. 

“I know, I just haven’t been to a concert in so damn long. Definitely not since we’ve had the girls.” Javi sighed, running his hand through the dark curls of his hair once more before turning to face you, still finishing up the last of your makeup in the mirror. 

Although you had intended for your Fleetwood Mac tickets to be a surprise for Javi’s birthday, trying to coordinate around your schedules and 3 little girls had made spontaneous date nights much more challenging than they used to be when you first met. But, with Chucho needing no incentive to babysit his granddaughters, you and Javi were excited to have a night out just the two of you, getting to enjoy your favorite band together, singing and dancing the night away to celebrate another year of Javi getting older. 

“Well then lucky for you, you’ll be the hottest dad at the concert.” You smirked, sassily tilting your head towards him to prove your point, your reaction just enough to snap him out of his self doubt, Javi joining in on the laughter as he stood behind you, grabbing your waist and placing a soft kiss on the bare skin of your shoulder next to the strap of your sundress. 

“Good thing I’ve got a fucking hot MILF of a wife to go with me then, huh?” Javi grinned, the kiss he had left on your shoulder now slowly starting to creep up your neck and collarbone as his hand reached down to grab a handful of your ass, making you squeal in surprise. “I know you picked this dress out on purpose because you know it drives me fucking crazy. God, you look good.” 

“Javi! You better stop or we’re gonna be late to dinner before the show!” You scolded, giving him a playful jab to his stomach, only making him tighten the grip on your ass even firmer with his other hand coming to join his first. 

“Hermosa,” He cooed, gently turning you around to take the mascara you had in your hand and set it on the counter before cradling your jaw in his palm, forcing your gaze up at him, “I know you. And you and I both know damn well you at least put enough a little buffer time into our plans for us to have sex before we left. Am I wrong?” 

Well, he caught you there, because he most certainly was not. 

“Maybe…” You replied sheepishly, overdramatically rolling your eyes at his statement, only making his boyish grin spread wider between his cheeks, “Okay, but seriously though, we do have to be quick, because I don’t want to- Ah! Javi!” 

You couldn’t help but let out a little shriek of surprise as Javi suddenly lifted you up, setting you down on the bathroom counter and caging your body under his, his arms planted on either side of your hips as his mouth crashed into yours, tongues and teeth dancing in a hungry and desperate clash. 

“I promise I won’t take too long. But I can’t help myself when you look this good, mi amor. Eres tan hermosa (You’re so beautiful). You’re gonna kill me in that dress, Momma.” Javi hummed, his hands now gripping the meat of your thighs and sliding down your legs to bunch up the skirt of your dress, hiking it up as he sank down to his knees in front of the bathroom counter. 

You could already feel the damp patch that had begun to grow in your underwear as Javi hooked his fingers around the elastic of its waistband, tugging the fabric down your legs and letting it fall to the bathroom floor, revealing your pussy, already wet and aching for him. 

Javi settled himself between your legs, draping them over his shoulders as his fingers slid through your folds, collecting your juices before beginning to circle at your clit with the pads of his fingers, peppering kisses along the inside of your thighs as you whimpered in delight. 

“J-Javi, please, baby.” You moaned, fingers tightening around the edge of the countertop as his thumb replaced his fingers on your clit, his middle and ring finger dipping inside your already weeping core, curling just slightly as he began to pump them in and out of you. 

It wasn’t long before his thumb was replaced by his mouth, the flat of his tongue licking a broad strip across your cunt, the new sensation sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body. No matter how many times Javi had gone down on you, it never failed to surprise you how goddamn good he was at it, memorizing every twitch and gasp that made you fall apart in the best way possible, and tonight was no exception. 

His slow, long strokes began to quicken, circling his tongue around your clit with the perfect amount of pressure as his fingers worked in tandem, curving in just the right place to press against your g-spot and begin to build the arousal swirling in your core. 

As much as you (and Javi, for that matter), would have loved to have taken your time and let him eat you out on the bathroom counter for hours, the both of you knew you were on a time crunch, but not enough of a crunch to stop Javi from making you cum at least once before he fucked you. 

The pressure of his tongue on your sensitive nub became more and more, before latching his lips to suck at your clit, your cunt clenching in anticipation around his fingers as you writhed beneath his touch, moaning his name as you felt your orgasm begin to build. 

You couldn’t help but let your hand shoot down to his head, your fingers burying themselves in his thick, brown locks, with absolutely no regard for the time he had just spent fixing his hair in the mirror just a few minutes ago.  

“Javi… Oh, shit. Fuck, more baby, please. P-please, I’m so close.” You moaned, looking down at Javi with what you were already sure was a wrecked expression painted across your face. 

You could practically feel Javi’s smug smirk pressed against your cunt before pulling away to respond. “Give it to me, pretty girl. Wanna taste you all over me when you soak my face.”

Before you could reply, your jaw dropped open and face scrunched in pleasure as Javi dove back in, burying his face in your cunt, each press of his tongue became more firm and precise than the last, feeling your pussy begin to flutter as you clutched tighter around the edge of the counter, trying to keep from screaming out in pleasure and raise any suspicion. But as your legs began to tremble and your heart race, teetering on the brink of collapse, it was taking every ounce of willpower you had left to make that happen.

Fuck, Javi. Fuck, I- fuck- I’m gonna, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh.” You whimpered, feeling your orgasm crash through you, pleasure radiating in your veins as you fell apart, losing all inhibitions to keep yourself quiet as you threw your head back in all consuming bliss. With his fingers still buried in your cunt, gently working you through your high, Javi shot back up, his mouth engulfing yours in an electric kiss to try and capture your ragged moans that had been coating the walls of the bathroom, the tangy taste of you still lingering on his lips. 

”That’s it, baby girl. Fuck, you’re so perfect. Love this pussy so fucking much.” He groaned, reaching down to frantically undo his belt buckle, his fingers working rapidly to undo the metal clasp before pushing his pants and boxers down his legs, letting them pool in a pile around his ankles. 

Still coming down from your high, your breath hitched as the tip of Javi’s cock ran through your folds, coating his length in your arousal before slipping inside you. You couldn’t help but gasp even harder at the new sensation of his fullness inside you, cockhead already kissing your cervix as his hips flushed with yours. 

Javi’s hands began to wander up your legs, pushing your dress up your thighs until he got to your hips, digging his fingertips in the soft fabric as he thrust in and out of you, mouths melding together as one. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, Hermosa. So fucking wet for me, taking me so well.” Javi moaned, nipping at your ear as his pace became faster, fucking into you in the spot he knew made you lose all control, silently smirking at the pathetic whimpers that were escaping your lips. 

Javi buried his face in the crook of your neck as your legs began to instinctively lock around the small of his back, bringing him closer to you with each thrust. You could already feel that all too familiar tingle building at the base of your spine once again, wanting to feel every inch of him you could deeper and deeper inside you before you came. 

With the way the hairs at the base of his cock were brushing against your clit, you knew you didn’t have much longer until your orgasm was about to crash though you, finding yourself grasping fistfuls of Javi’s shirt for dear life as you mumbled incoherently. 

”O-oh shit, Javi. Fuck, F-fuck, don’t stop baby. Please, don’t stop.” 

You could practically hear the hum of satisfaction deep in Javi’s chest feeling your cunt clench tighter and tighter around his cock, his firm grasp of his hands on your hips holding you in place on the counter as he pounded into you. 

”C’mon Osita. Cum all over me. Give it to me and I swear I’m gonna fuck you so full of me, I’ll be dripping out of you all night.” 

“Yes, fuckfuckfuck, please, Javi.” 

“Is that what you want? You gotta be a good girl and cum for me first, baby.” 

That was all it took for you to break before you could feel a wave of pleasure rushing through your body, euphoria running through your veins as you came, crying out Javi’s name like a prayer as he started to chase his own high. His thrusts became frantic and sloppy, his brows furrowing in focus to hold out just a little longer until your body melted into his in your blissed out state. 

“That’s it, hermosa. I love you so much. I- oh shit- I’m close, too. F-fuck, I’m gonna fill this tight little pussy so full of me that it- oh fuckkkkkkkk.” With a few more pumps, a moan escaped from Javi’s parted lips as he came, spilling himself deep inside your walls. The warm mix of his spend and your arousal dripped out of you as his cock softened, whimpering at the loss as he pulled out, but catching your muffled moans in his mouth as his lips met yours, cradling your face in his palm. 

Through your heavy breaths from heaving chests, you and Javi both couldn’t help but smile and laugh to yourselves as your foreheads rested against each other, quietly whispering “I love you” to each other in sync, your bodies slumped together in a blissed out heap on the bathroom counter. 

”Fuck, you’re so hot. I’ll never get over it.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip after giving you another quick kiss, rummaging through your bathroom cabinets to pull out a washcloth to clean you up with.

”Takes one to know one, Peña.” You giggled, letting out a content sigh as you let your head fall back, closing your eyes for a moment before looking over your shoulder to see Javi, and behind Javi, the clock that you both had very much not been paying attention to in the midst of your antics.

”Oh fuck…” 

“Already did that, mi amor,” Javi teased, running the washcloth under the warm water of the sink, “What’s wrong?”

Without saying a word, you gestured to the clock hanging on the bathroom wall with a defeated shrug, Javi turning around with a quiet laugh to himself, shrugging his shoulders right along with you. 

“You’d think after how long we’ve been together we’d start giving ourselves even more time than we think to leave for things, huh?” 

“You would think, huh?” You giggled, accepting defeat that the two of you would most definitely not be making it to your dinner reservations that you had planned before the concert. “Sorry, Jav.”

 “What do you have to be sorry about, cariño? Fuck, I get to have amazing sex with my beautiful wife before we go see our favorite band, what a horrible birthday night so far.” Javi teased, giving you a reassuring nudge that you had nothing to apologize for. “I think the real question is…” 

”Is what, Mr. Sarcasm?” 

“What size fries do you want with your McDonald’s Coke and McNuggets for dinner?” 

“How did you know I was gonna say we should get McDonald’s for dinner?!��� 

“Because Osita, I swear I know you better than I know myself.” 

After some quick touch ups and a call to Chucho to say goodnight to your daughters before you left, you and Javi were on the road, happily enjoying your McDonald’s and taking turns picking your favorite Fleetwood Mac songs to jam out to, spending your ride debating what songs they’d play, reminiscing about the songs you loved, and singing at the top of your lungs, to the point you were positive you would have no voice tomorrow. 

While you hadn’t been able to keep the concert itself a secret, the one thing you had been able to hide from your husband was the fact that you had managed to get not just good, but great seats for the show. If Javi had known how much you’d spent for him on his birthday, he would have insisted on finding cheaper tickets, but if there was anyone who was deserving of getting to see his favorite band from an incredible view, it was him. 

From the moment the two of you had entered the venue, you had your tickets peeled to your chest to keep them from Javi, reassuring him that you knew where you were going, much to his dismay and insisting that working together would help you find your seats quicker. 

After a few minutes of wandering and secretly maneuvering to the right section of the stadium, you had finally found where you belonged, excitedly pulling Javi along behind you towards your seats.

“Baby, not that I don’t trust your navigation skills, but I feel like we’re down way too far in the stands. ” Javi questioned, his hand in yours as you dragged him through the crowd, looking back and forth between your ticket stub and the stadium rows to find your spots. 

“Not to burst your bubble, Jav, but my navigation skills are as on point as they ever have been.” You smirked, crossing your arms over your chest before handing him over your tickets, his face stunned and in shock as he read the small stubs of card stock, realizing you had absolutely led the both of you to the right place. 

”Happy early birthday, Javi. I know the concert itself wasn’t a surprise, but I hope that these seats are still a good one.” 

“Osita… Baby, you can’t be serious…” Javi’s jaw dropped, eyes going wide in shock, convinced you had to be joking or playing some sort of prank on him. 

“Serious as a heart attack, Jav.” 

Javi stood there speechless, tears welling in his eyes with an awestruck grin on his face, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug before peppering your face with kisses, making you giggle and squeal in delight. 

“God, I love you so much. Thank you, Hermosa. This is… fuck, this is absolutely incredible. Thank you. I don’t- this is way more than I deserve. Thank you so much.” 

Your heart swelled at the boyish grin spread across Javi’s face as he looked out at the view in front of him, knowing that if you could give your husband the world in his pocket, you would in a heartbeat, but to see his excitement over some seats at a concert would do just fine. 

“You’re so welcome, baby. You do deserve it. You deserve it more than anyone I know. You are the most amazing, wonderful husband and dad. If I could get you up there on stage with Stevie Nicks, I would, because that’s what you deserve.” 

“I think the last thing anyone needs is to hear me even attempt to sing.” 

“The girls love it when you sing to them.” 

“That’s because they don’t know any better. Give it a few more years and I’m sure they’ll be begging me to stop.” 

“What they know won’t hurt ‘em,” you laughed, giving Javi a playful shrug, “Also, the other part of this gift is that I am driving us home from the concert, so you can have as much fun as you want.” 

“Baby, you don’t have to-” 

“I can and I will,” You sassed defiantly, cutting Javi off before he could oppose your offer, “You always drive so I can have a good time, and you deserve to have time to let loose, too. So, with that being said, I am going to go get us drinks. Drunk Javi is one of my favorite Javi’s and I don’t get to see him very often. Okay?” 

“Okay. Thanks, Hermosa. I love you.” 

“I love you too, Jav. Now, what do you want to drink?” 

“Surprise me.” He laughed, giving you a quick kiss and a subtle smack on your ass as you walked past him to make your way back to the concession stand. “Drunk Javi is really one of your favorites?” 

“Absolutely. Drunk Javi loves to dance. Drunk Javi also gets very sweet and a little handsy, both of which I am more than okay with.” 

A few drinks deep and the opening bands finished, Javi, or better yet, Drunk Javi, was having the absolute time of his life. For as fun and goofy Javi was at home with you and the girls, it was few and far between that the former DEA agent found himself intoxicated out in public with a case of dancing shoes and uncontrollable giggles. 

“God, I’m having so much fun. Are you having fun, Hermosa? You’re the best wife ever, you know that?” Javi grinned, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pecked a sloppy kiss onto your cheek before taking another sip of his beer. 

“Glad to know you don’t have a secret wife who you like better than me.” You teased, giving him a little nudge and giggling at his drunken state, a little surprised when all of a sudden his face turned serious, setting down his beer to cup your jaw with his palms and forcing his gaze on his. 

“Baby, you know I would never ever do that, right? I literally love you so much. You and the girls are my whole world. I think I would rather die than be with anyone else besides you. No, I know I would rather die than be with anyone else. You are literally perfect.” Javi pleaded, his concerned, big, brown puppy dog eyes making your heart melt. 

“Yes, Mr. Dramatic, I know you would never have a secret wife, but thank you for your very adamant confirmation.” You giggled, pressing up on your tiptoes to give him another kiss, washing the worry away from the concerned furrow of his brow. “You are such a goofball. I love you so much too, Jav. I promise, I’m not going anywhere either. Well, actually, that’s a lie. I do need to go to the bathroom before Fleetwood Mac comes on, but I will be right back.” 

“Okay, mi amor. I’ll be right here when you get back.” Javi nodded adamantly, knowing in his drunken state he would be taking his job of not leaving your seats very seriously until you safely returned. 

“I know you will, Javi. I’ll be quick, okay? Need anything when I’m gone? Besides another drink?” 

“How did you know I was gonna say I needed another drink?” Javi asked in complete shock, like you had just showed him the world’s most inconceivable magic trick. 

“I’d say the almost empty bottle was a good clue.” You winked, giving his arm a little squeeze before shimmying your way through the row of seats and up the stairs to find the nearest bathroom and concession stand. 

Normally, Javi wasn’t one to strike up small talk with strangers just for the fun of it, but with his lowered inhibitions, he couldn’t help but find himself turning to the group of women seated next to him to kill the time before you came back from the bathroom. 

“Have you guys seen Fleetwood Mac before?” Javi shrugged, finishing the last bit of beer at the bottom of his bottle. 

“Yeah, we’ve seen them a few times! They’re really good live!” One of the women responded, her friends nodding in agreement. 

“I’ve seen ‘em before too, but this is my wife and I’s first time seeing them together. She got me the tickets for my birthday, but she surprised me with how good these seats were. She’s amazing.” Javi beamed, subtly nodding his head to the music playing in the background between sets. 

“Awh, that’s so sweet!” One of the other women chimed in, the three women laughing to themselves at how drunk and awestruck Javi was over you. 

“It is. I hope they play Everywhere. It’s our favorite song by them. We played it at our wedding when she walked down the aisle and I bawled like a baby. She looked so beautiful. Who am I kidding? She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. Like, ever.” Javi’s grin was growing wider by the second, staring off into the distance as he rambled on about you. 

“Oh my goodness, you are so cute. She’s a lucky lady.” The women smiled, incredibly entertained by everything Javi had to say. 

“No. I’m the lucky one.” Javi responded, stone cold serious as he pointed to himself, finger poking his chest. “Have you seen her? She’s so pretty. And she married me! And on top of that, we have a family, too! Can you believe it?!” 

“With how in love with her you seem to be, I 100% can. How many kids do you have?” 

“3 daughters. Lucy is 5, Elliot just turned 3, and Harper is 7 months old.” Javi counted on his fingers, holding up 3 to represent each of his girls. “I love them so much. Being a dad is like, the most coolest thing ever. And she’s such a good mom. They’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

“Hey, Chatterbox.” You laughed, gently tapping Javi on the shoulder, trying not to startle him as he turned around, beaming from ear to ear at your presence. “Here is your drink and- oh!” 

“Osita! I missed you.” Javi swallowed the rest of your sentence in his mouth with a strong kiss, pulling away to greet you with a goofy grin, followed by a confused frown. “Wait, where did you go?” 

“Oh boy, we’re gonna have to pick some Gatorade and Tylenol up on the way home, aren’t we? I was just going to the bathroom, remember? And to get you another drink, silly goose.” You giggled, holding out his beer for him. 

“Oh shit. I should probably go to the bathroom, too. Do you think I have enough time to go? I don’t wanna miss anything with you!” Javi questioned frantically, realizing he definitely had not utilized the bathroom to the extent he probably should have. 

“You should be fine, babe. The lines were pretty short, so if you hurry I’m sure you’ll be back in plenty of time.” You reassured him. 

“Phew, okay, I can go fast, no problem. I’ll be right back, hermosa.” Carefully taking back his beer as he handed it off to you, Javi quickly scrambled through the crowd to follow the path you had just returned from, leaving you laughing to yourself and shaking your head. 

“We just wanted to let you know, your husband is absolutely adorable.” One of the women furthest away from you piped up, catching your attention. 

“Oh, um, thank you?” You replied, tilting your head in confusion. 

“That man is utterly obsessed with you. I think he had more nice things to say about you in 30 seconds to a group of strangers than any of my exes ever did combined.” 

“Girl, not to mention he is handsome. You are one lucky woman. Who knew it would take a stranger in love at a Fleetwood Mac concert to once again raise the bar for men.” 

“Wow, uh, thank you. That’s really nice of you. I’m not gonna lie, he’s pretty darn great.” You blushed, trying to keep your smile from spreading too wide at their compliments for Javi over his affection for you. 

“Of course. We won’t bother you anymore, but figured you’d like to know that your man is still head over heels for you. Enjoy the rest of the concert!” 

“Thanks, you guys too!” You smirked, your eyes darting down towards your feet to hide the red glow of your cheeks, your heart bursting with warmth from the fact that even in his drunken state, you found yourself falling harder and harder for Javi every day. 

Suddenly, the lights around the stage began to dim, the roar of the crowd overtaking the stadium, signaling Fleetwood Mac were only moments away from taking the stage. Instinctively, you peeked your head behind you through the crowd to look for Javi, relieved when you saw his broad figure hustling down the stairs, waving at you with a goofy grin the whole way. 

"I was worried I was gonna have to come find you before the show started!” You sighed, grabbing Javi’s face and giving his cheeks a playful squeeze before giving him a quick peck on the lips. 

“Osita, you know I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” 

Any high hopes that you had for the show were surpassed, and then some. The band played all of your favorites, the both of you singing and dancing along, probably making complete fools of yourselves, but you couldn’t care less. 

You were particularly impressed with Javi’s over dramatic stomping and air drumming to “The Chain” to kick off the show, having to grab his beer to keep it from spilling all over himself several times throughout his performance. Although incredibly offbeat, Javi's enthusiasm made up for any drunken lack of rhythm throughout the song.

The both of you couldn’t help but shout along to “I Don’t Wanna Know” at the top of your lungs, painfully off key and obnoxiously loud, Javi reaching down to grab your finger, wrapping his hands around it to use as his own makeshift microphone for the entire duration of the song. 

During “Landside”, you found Javi standing behind you, chest pressed to your back and arms wrapped around you as you swayed back and forth, gently wiping your tears and choking back his own as he whispered in your ear how lucky he was to build his life around you and your girls, mumbling something about how if any of the girls get married and pick this song to do a father daughter dance to, he’d be an absolute mess. 

By the end of the concert, you and Javi were both exhausted, giving every last ounce of energy to “Go Your Own Way”, the crowd erupting with thunderous applause as the show came to a close, lights flashing and confetti exploding from the ends of the stage in an array of bright colors in the same way your heart felt like it was exploding with joy from the incredible time you had with Javi. 

Over the cheers and hollers, Javi leaned in, cupping your cheek in his palm, the other arm wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to his chest, capturing you in a kiss that seemed to make time stop and everyone else disappear, feeling like in that moment, no one else existed but the two of you. 

“I love you so much, Osita.” 

”I love you too, Javi.”

“Tonight was- Oh shit, hold on,” Javi paused, letting out a long, low burp, a signature Drunk Javi move, placing his hand over his chest and letting out a long sigh before speaking again, “Sorry, that felt good. Wait, what was I saying again?” 

“That you had a lot of fun. I think it’s time that we get you home, cowboy.” You couldn’t help but snort at his impressive display of flatulence, wrapping your arm around his waist as you walked with the flow of the crowd departing from the stadium, hand patting his hip in reassurance. 

It wasn’t until you began to try and travel up the stairs and through the sea of concert goers that you realized just how drunk Javi was. While wrapping your arm around his hip had started off as a sweet gesture to help guide him in the right direction to leave, you began to worry that you were going to have to try and keep him up until the two of you got to the car. 

Thankfully, your humming, happy as can be Javi made it to your parking spot, breaking free of your grasp to race to your car, tugging at the driver’s side door with profound confusion at it’s locked state. 

“Hermosa! The car is locked! How are we gonna get home if we can’t get in?” Javi fretted, tugging harder at the door handle. 

“I have the keys, baby, don’t worry.” You laughed, reaching into your purse to unlock the truck’s doors, sending Javi stumbling backwards as the driver’s side swung open from his last tug at the handle. “Also, you are on the wrong side there, pendejo. I’m driving home, remember?” 

“Oh fuck, you are! I was gonna say, I think I’m a lil drunk. I probably shouldn’t drive.” Javi grimaced, quickly scampering to the other side of the car as you unlocked it, laughing as you watched him squeeze into the passenger set that was clearly set for your stature and not his. 

“I think you might be more than just a little drunk, baby.” You corrected, clicking in your seatbelt and firing up the ignition, peeling out of your parking spot. 

“Yeah, I’m a lot a bit drunk. I’m sorry, Osita.” He pouted, slumping his face in his hand, elbow resting on the center console. 

“Jav, why on earth would you possibly be sorry?” You frowned, wondering what Javi had to apologize for. 

“I’m sorry I’m so drunk and now you have to drive me home.” 

“Baby, I’m glad that you decided to get drunk. I wanted you to have a good time! Number one, you’re always driving me home whenever I wanna have fun and number two, it’s your birthday, and you deserve to let loose and have as much fun as you want to. Don’t apologize, okay?” You smiled, gently grabbing your hand in his and giving it a little squeeze, instantly flooding his face with relief. 

“Okay. I’m sorry I talked to those ladies sitting by us earlier while you were going to the bathroom, too. I was just trying to be nice. I just wanted to tell them how excited I was to see Fleetwood Mac with you, and how beautiful and amazing and perfect you are, and that you’re the best wife ever.” 

“I know Jav, it’s okay. I didn't even think twice about it. They were very sweet, and said you had lots of nice things to say about me and the girls. It was very cute.” You smirked, lifting your interlocked hands to your lips to plant a kiss on his knuckles, giving it an even tighter squeeze of reassurance in the process. 

At this point, Javi had practically melted into the passenger seat, limbs spread out as wide as he could to try and get comfortable, tilting his head towards you with a mischievous grin and sparkle in his chocolate brown eyes. 

“You know what we should do when we get home?” Javi asked, now biting down on his lip to try and subdue his smirk. 

“I don’t know Javi, what should we do?” You responded back mockingly. 

“We shoulddddddddd....” He paused, dancing in his seat in excitement.

“We shoulddddddd, what, baby?” You sighed, laughing to yourself at his drunken goofiness. 

“We shouldddddd throw away your birth control and make another baby when we get home tonight.” Now Javi was full on beaming in an ear to ear grin, raising his eyebrows at you as he crossed his arms over his chest, trying to find any way to warm you up to his intoxicated acquisition. 

“Javi! We talked about this!” You scolded, giving him a playful slap to his chest, doing nothing to wipe his stupidly wide smirk off his face. “4 kids is a lot of kids. At least one of us can have a spare hand with 3, even if we’re outnumbered. I think 3 is the magic number, babe.” 

“I knowwwww, but making babies with you is like, the best thing ever. If you asked me to list my favorite things to do, that would be number one, no question.” Javi protested, convinced that this argument alone would be enough of a selling point for you. 

“Believe me, you’re not wrong, Jav. It’s a ten out of ten pastime, but even if I stopped taking my birth control tonight, I don't think it would happen, ya goof.” 

“Crazier things have happened. Maybe we'd just get really lucky. Our daughters are so cute. I know it’s unfair to say because they’re our kids, but like, we make some cute fuckin’ babies, Hermosa. What if we made another super cute baby? Just like, one more?” At this point, Javi had broken out his signature pout and big baby cow eyes, looking at you like a stray puppy who had been kicked to the curb. 

“Another adorable baby means I’m gonna have to build up my immunity to those sweet, sad, puppy dog eyes even more, and I honestly don’t know if I’m strong enough. I don’t know how all 3 of the girls ended up with your big brown eyes, but I hope you know it’s killing me slowly because of how frickin’ cute they are.” You sighed in defeat, knowing that your willpower with 3 sets of Javi’s mini-me’s was already low enough, let alone adding a 4th pair to the mix. 

“Soooooooooo it’s a maybe?” 

“Oh my god, you are so bad, Javier Jesus Peña.” 

“That’s not a yes or a no, Osita.” 

“....Maybe. But don’t get your hopes up, okay?” 

“So we’re not not gonna make a baby tonight?” 

“Javi, I love you, baby, but with how much you’ve had to drink, I don’t think nature is going to give you enough grace to even let that possibility play out.” You snorted, gesturing down to his crotch, making him roll his eyes. 

“Okay, that only happened one other time!” Javi sloppily pointed at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, when you were absolutely hammered after Steve’s 40th birthday party and wouldn’t let me put you to bed until you could prove to me that you did not, in fact, get whiskey dick, to which you fell asleep with your hands down your pants sitting in the guest room chair, unable to prove your point.”��

“That was not my proudest moment, I will admit that. Most of the time, I’m pretty good at sex, though.” Javi retorted, trying to bring himself back from your last point made. 

“Yes, Jav, you’re very good at sex.” You agreed, patting him on the leg and rubbing his thigh. 

“So good…. That we should make another baby tonight when we get home.” 

“Oh my god.” 

“I’m just saying!” 

“Jesus Christ, you goof. I think when we get home, someone needs to drink some water and get into bed. I love you very much, but that’s about as far as we’re getting tonight.” You laughed, rustling the messy curls of his hair as he leaned his head to rest against your shoulder. 

Javi sat silent for a moment, watching the headlights of the cars flash through his window, staring into the serene darkness of the clear night sky, the familiar warmth of his body pressed against yours in a comfortable calm. It was almost as if you could feel his eyelids beginning to droop, slowly closing while his sleepy state washed over him as he nestled against you. And while in that moment, the air between you hung quiet, you could hear the silent agreement that if given the choice, there was nowhere else you’d rather be than right here, right now, with each other. 

“Hey, Hermosa?” 

“Yeah, Jav?” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“....Enough that we should make another baby tonight?” 

“Javi!”

Taglist:

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@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[angel5ofp0rn]

♡ part one ♡

ExHusband!Price x f!reader

been thinking ab this post 4ever and need to get it out tbh.

**I’ve never done something like this b4 and I haven’t proofread so pls be nice 2 me ._. **

You have been divorced from your ex husband John Price for two years. Still, he comes over and shovels your driveway for you every time it snows.

He’s come inside and warmed up in the mudroom nearly every 15-20 minutes, puffing hot breath into his hands and rubbing them together for warmth before stepping back out and shoveling again.

You meet him in the mudroom for his fourth warm-up break and hand him a mug of hot coffee. Dash of cream, one sugar.

“Still how you take your coffee, right?” You offer a small smile, hugging your arms around yourself as John takes a sip from the mug.

“Still the same.” He nods before he takes another sip, the small smile that had appeared at the corner of his mouth quickly fading.

He leans up against the doorframe, the shovel leaning against the wall next to him. He peers out of the door's window, checking over his work.

“I'll get goin' soon enough. It ain't snowing right now, the drive's nearly clear.”

You thank him again, even though you never asked him to do this in the first place. You can’t help but look up at him, meeting his blue eyes for just a moment.

Before he could reply, your two children came running around the corner cheering and squealing when they saw their dad.

John's smile brightens at their presence, his body language immediately softening as he squatted down to their level.

“Hey, my little monkeys. Come give yer ol’ dad a hug.” He opens his arms out wide, inviting both of them to come to him. It doesn't take long before they both go crashing into him, squealing, smiling. Their giggles filled the small room.

You just smile. Even if you and John aren’t always on the best of terms, you can’t deny that he’s a great father.

“Daddy’s cold.” Your youngest shivers a bit from hugging their dad, who still had snow on his clothes and frost on his beard from shoveling.

John tries to shrug it off, but you ask him to stay and warm up for a while.

For the kids, of course.

Plus dinner is nearly ready, and you definitely made too much for just you and the kids, anyway.

More cheering, more squealing, more giggling as John finally agrees and kicks his boots off, hanging his coat on the hook.

John’s blue eyes scan the new decor and different paintings on the wall, but he doesn’t comment on how much the place has changed since he moved out.

After dinner, the two of you stand in the doorway as you watch the kids play together in their playroom, that used to be John’s “man cave”.

“They're gonna make you tuck them in.” You mention, sipping your glass of wine.

John smiles, a casual shrug of his shoulders.

“Maybe you can convince them to go up and brush their teeth?” You lower your wineglass and offer a fake, pleading pout.

He looks down for a moment, pretending not to see the gesture. Instead, he looks back to the children.

“Right then, you two little monkeys. It’s gettin’ late. Go on up and brush your teeth. I’ll come tuck you in.”

Both children protest for a while, but eventually give in without too much of a fight. That’s a new one.

John lets out a chuckle as the children roll their eyes and go up the stairs. He watches them disappear from view before turning and meeting your eyes again, still smiling for this small victory.

As if he had just realized he was staring, John’s eyes darted down into his now empty mug.

"Let me take that." You reach for his mug but he shakes his head.

"I haven’t forgotten where the kitchen is," He smiles a bit. "'ll clean up and then tuck the kids in."

John makes his way over to the kitchen, placing it in the sink and starting water. You follow, and notice that he was also washing the dishes from dinner as well.

“John, you don’t have to-“

“I know.”

And that’s that.

You chew your bottom lip. This looked too familiar. It felt too familiar.

"I'm... gonna go check on them and get them in their pj's." You gesture to the stairs in the hall.

He looks up at you briefly and nods; "Be up in a bit, love.”

Once the water is emptied from the sink, he starts loading the dishes into the dishwasher. Once completed, he starts to wipe down the counters and stovetop, wanting to make sure he left no mess behind. Then he trekked back up the stairs to tuck in the kids.

You’re downstairs again, on the living room sofa. You wanted to let John have a moment alone with the kiddos before he left again.

He makes his way down the stairs and sees you sitting there in the dim lighting. He clears his throat a bit as he walks through the living room and back into the mudroom.

“They're tucked in. Not a whisper from ‘em.” He mentions casually as he gets his snow boots back on.

You thank him, turning to watch him leave, but notice him looking out of the door window and pause. So you make your way over to the door to see what he’s seeing.

It's started snowing and the driveway is completely covered again. It looks like he hasn't even shoveled.

John lets out a grunt of disbelief and sighs, pulling on his beanie and reaching for the shovel once again.

“Don't-“ You shake your head, placing your hand on the shovel. “It's snowing hard, there's no point in shoveling it all up just for it to be covered again. Why don't you... stay on the couch or something tonight.”

He stares down at the shovel for a moment, debating it. After a beat, he sighs a bit, nodding.

“I... could do that.”

You go upstairs to the bedroom and bring John some extra pillows and blankets to make a bed on the couch with.

You set everything on the coffee table and the two of you sit on the couch for a moment, just catching up and chatting about the kids.

“The kids both want to do soccer in the spring.” You mention, your cheeks a bit rosy from the wine you had with dinner.

“Football.” He corrects with a small smirk. You roll your eyes.

“Let me pay for the lessons.” He says; not asking.

Of course you refuse.

Of course he insists.

You settle on splitting it.

Then it happens again. Your eyes meet his. Neither one of you speaks. Suddenly you’re transported back to the first night you met; you were newly 21 and already tipsy when your eyes met those of an older man in his fatigues as he sat at the bar. You remember drunkly telling the older man that he had the prettiest blue eyes, and that you wanted a hundred of his babies that looked just. like. him.

You have two, at least.

“Oh!” You sit up a bit straighter, snapping out of your daydream. “I was going to ask you to look at something on my laptop. It's doing that thing again. It's upstairs.” You get up and head to your home office, John right behind you.

You open your laptop and hand it to John. He knew how to fix it last time, so it should take him no time.

He sits in your office chair and you step away into your bedroom across the hall to get into a pair of pajama shorts and a hoodie, since it's getting late.

The laptop whirred softly before he got it running again. Only took a minute. He sets it on the desk, leaning back in your chair with his hands behind his head as he looks up through the open door where you can be found, changing in the bedroom.

You were his wife at one point, anyway. Isn’t something he hasn’t seen before…

After you’ve changed, you lay on your bed, scrolling through your phone as you wait for John to fix the issue with your laptop, unaware that he was watching. Unaware that the laptop has been fixed for a while now, and he was just wasting time.

Eventually, his voice wafts through the doorway.

“Think I got it, love-“ He pauses for a moment. “Er, Y/N.”

“Ugh, thank you.” You sigh and sit up, taking the laptop from him and setting it on your nightstand. “Stupid thing always acting up.”

John sits on the edge of your bed as you take the laptop back from him.

“Not a problem. It was a quick fix.” He offers a small smile, rubbing the back of his head.

He takes a glance at you, noticing the pajamas you had put on.

"...Is that my sweatshirt?"

You blush a bit sheepishly, looking down at the oversized, grey 2XL Special Air Service hoodie you’re wearing. "Um..."

Another small chuckle escapes his lips. He shakes his head a bit, trying to contain his amusement.

“S’what I thought. You look... comfy." He reaches his hand out towards your leg, running his hand lightly over your bare legs, exposed by the shorts you were wearing.

Without realizing what he's doing, he has his hand on your thigh, and he gives it a light squeeze.

Eventually his hand travels higher to rest on your sex over your pajama shorts.

Usually, you'd tell him off. Monologue about how this isn't how things work because it complicated things and you both need to set boundaries.

But tonight you don't.

Maybe it's because you had two heavy-handed pours of your favorite wine with dinner. Maybe it was seeing him with your kids again. Maybe it had just been too long since you'd felt anything other than a cheap bullet vibrator.

So you let him slip his hand down your panties.

But it's a bit jarring to feel his wedding band still on his finger.

You look down at his hand for a beat when you feel it.

You look back up and place your hand on the back of his neck, pulling him in and crashing your lips together.

John wastes no time in laying you back on your bed and tugging your shorts and panties off, tossing them somewhere behind him.

His lips are on your neck, his hands spreading your soft thighs apart. You can smell the musky scent of himself on him, mixed with that familiar cologne of his, and you breathe a sigh.

“Take this off f’r me.” He mumbles against your skin, sliding your his hoodie up your body.

Your body aches for this to continue, and John doesn't plan to disappoint, but he takes a moment to admire what's sprawled out in front of him. He lets out a satisfied smirk as he pulls you closer by your thighs. He's undone his belt and shrugged out of his jeans in no time.

You pull his shirt off over his head before you close your eyes and tilt your head to give him easier access to kiss your neck.

His scruffy beard tickles your neck, his calloused hands gripping your thigh and rubbing your slick, dripping pussy.

“So needy.” John observed as your back arched and your body squirmed at his touch. "Poor thing... No one's been keepin’ you satisfied, hm?”

You shake your head a bit. You hate that he’s right. You hate that he can tell. That he knows you too well.

But he’s right; no random Tinder hookup and no blind date that your friends have set you up with could ever compare to your ex husband.

“Should’a told me...” He murmurs as he leans lower, positioning his head in between your thighs, pressing desperate kisses to your aching clit.

He’s got you figured out completely. He’s always been good at that.

A smile forms as his hands move to grip your thighs. He lets out a quiet groan as your legs instinctively clamp around his head. The look of his veiny hands gripping your plushy thighs with that damn wedding band still around his finger is doing things to you.

His tongue slowly plays in circular motions, teasing you, loving the game. He takes his time, enjoying himself, as you continue to squeeze your thighs against his head. Hell, he’d let you suffocate him if it meant he could eat your pussy this one last time.

You try not to, but you let out a desperate moan of pleasure. He knew exactly what you like, exactly where to lick, exactly where to kiss, exactly where to nibble.

Damn him.

“You sound s’pretty, lovey. S’pretty f’r me.” He pants, his praise ending with a whimper.

Your eyes roll back. Fuck, he has you. He knows he has you. Your moans and whimpers are uncontrollable as he picks up the pace, all but slamming his thick cock into your pretty little hole.

You’re his, and he knows it, and in the moment, it’s true. Just him. Just you. The rest doesn’t matter right now.

John pulls out for just a moment while he swiftly flips you over, roughly gripping your hips and pulling your backside into him. He’s got the angle just right now, and your breath catches in your throat, followed by a needy whimper.

“Mine… All mine… Isn’t that right?” He whispers, more of a command than a question.

Your face is pressed against the mattress as John’s grip on your hips tighten. This angle, this position, John is so familiar with it. He knows what it does to you. He knows the way it makes you respond.

John lets out a loud groan as your whimpers and moans get more needy, desperate. He knows that you’re about to come.

He finishes right then and there, along with you.

You gasp a bit, surprised by the synchronization. Should you really be surprised, though? Only he would know your body like that. You’re his. He’s yours.

John slowly pulls his softening cock out of you, lying on the bed and pulling you into his chest. His hand grabs your thigh, draping your leg around his waist in an attempt to hold you closer.

He lets out a few deep breaths, letting the adrenaline and endorphins just fade away. Neither of you wants to move right now, both just content being in each other’s arms. Both content feeling the heat of each other’s bodies, just listening to each other breathing.

“Better than I remembered it.” John murmurs, his voice laced with a smirk.

You catch John’s left hand after he reached up to push your sweaty hair from your forehead. You hold it in yours, playing a bit with the wedding band.

next >>

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

okay hi just a warning rq my autocorrect is off bc it autocorrected my friend’s name to fuckin malayalam on accident. i dont like autocorrect.

ANYWAY! ive been listening to my lovely olivia rodrigo lately, specifically her new song obsessed. i wanted to know if you could make a fic with Ethan x fem! reader where readers bitchy friend has this ex (Ethan) and she made him out to be a real dick. like, manipulating and everything.

reader eventually meets him and it turns out that she remembers… a lot about him considering her friend is a constant yapper and cant shut up about him. Ethan actually turns out to be a real cutie patootie and could literally never hurt anyone.

a few days later theyd meet again at some club or party maybe where they end up hitting it off… a little too well.. yeah so she ends up in his bed (smut part, very dom ethan plspls 😛😛). they could be talking about something really random and then reader brings up how her friend basically completely lied about him and said he was a piece of shit when he really wasnt. like a realllll fluffy end before a small cliffhanger thats never gonna get finished where her friend ends up finding out and texting her.

so sorry if thats too long or confusing idk but i actually love your work so much im lowkey your #1 fan. 😍😍😍

HELLO! I switched this up a little, I hope that's okay! 💕

Also, I fucking loved the 'leave it on a cliffhanger part that won't get finished' because WHY IS THAT WHAT I DO lmao

Obsessed - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader - Part 1

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Part 2

Summary: Your friend told you horrible lies about her ex-boyfriend, and once you get to know him, you realize he's not the monster she made him out to be.

Contains: Mentions of a toxic relationship, Dom-ish cocky Ethan, rough-ish sex, oral - f receiving, p in v, fluff (If I missed anything, PLEASE let me know. I'm sleep deprived atm)

A/N: This was the one that pulled me out of my writers block, lmao. It's still not where I want it to be, but I'm TRYING. I'll try to post more this week, but I will be busy so bear with me haha.

You didn’t know Ethan Landry, but you knew you didn’t like him. He used to date one of your friends, and after hearing all the horrible things he’d said and done during their relationship, you thought he was really scummy.

They dated in high school and couldn’t get enough of each other, so they wanted to go to the same college. They broke up right before freshman year started, and after almost a year, she still talked about him every chance she got. She’d tell you how controlling he was. The things he’d call her when he was mad. How he cheated on her. You couldn’t believe that she stayed in the relationship for as long as she did, because she never had anything good to say, except that she loved him.

You’d seen pictures of him, and after walking into one of your classes at the start of the new semester, you saw him in person for the first time. He was so shy as he took his seat in the lecture hall, some of the girls making their little comments about the rumors they’d heard about him. He didn’t seem like the type that would do the things your friend said, but maybe he was just really good at playing innocent. All you knew was that you needed to keep your distance from him.

When you met up with your friend later that day for lunch, you didn’t know if you wanted to bring up Ethan being in the same class as you, but once she brought him up, you decided to tell her.

“Speaking of Ethan…I saw him today,” you said, before taking a bite of your food. Her face dropped as she looked at you.

“Where did you see him?” she questioned. You explained that you saw him in one of your new classes, and she rolled her eyes. “Can you believe he still tries to text me?”

“What I can’t believe is that you haven’t blocked him,” you said, “I know I’d hate to see someone that treated me like shit’s name pop up on my phone.”

She started to giggle as you curiously stared at her. “I have him saved in my phone as ‘Tall loser with a small dick’, so I laugh every time he does text me.”

“That’s not toxic at all,” you said, as you started to think about what she’d said. “Wait, he treated you as bad as he did and has a small dick? What the fuck were you thinking?”

“All he had going for him was that he was cute,” she said, “But seriously, if I were you, I’d stay away from him.”

“Oh, please. Like I’d even want to be near him.”

Your morning wasn’t going as expected. You slept through all of your alarms; you didn’t have time to stop for coffee. You didn’t think your day could get any worse, until you walked into class and noticed the only empty seat available was beside Ethan. You took a deep breath before you walked over and sat down. Once you reached into your backpack, you realized that your laptop wasn’t there. You were in such a hurry when you ran out of your dorm and didn’t even think to grab it.

“Shit,” you whispered, “I’m so stupid.”

“Here,” Ethan said, passing you a notebook and a pen. You curiously looked at him as he offered a weak smile. “I always keep an extra notebook, just in case.”

“Thanks,” you said, a half-smile playing on your lips.

Once class started, you were taking your notes, but you kept glancing over to Ethan. He was so focused on typing that he didn’t notice, but you couldn’t help but wonder if everything your friend told you was true. At that moment, he didn’t seem like a jerk. Then again, he had only spoken a handful of words to you.

Ethan was aware of all the things that were said about him. He hoped that after a few weeks it all would’ve blown over, but once you have an angry ex-girlfriend paint you as some horrible, emotionally abusive asshole, it’s hard to come back from that. He knew that it was best for him to just keep his head down until he was able to transfer to a different school, where no one knew who he was. He was miserable at Blackmore, and he really had no reason to stick around, aside from the few friends he’d made.

After class was over, you tore the pages of notes you’d taken from the notebook to give it back to Ethan.

“Thanks again,” you said, as you handed it back to him.

“You’re welcome,” he said, shoving it back in his backpack. “I thought about just emailing you my notes, but I didn’t know if you’d want that.”

“You’re telling me I didn’t have to spend the last hour trying to write that fast?” you asked, as he flashed you a sweet, genuine smile. “Why wouldn’t someone want that?”

“I don’t know, maybe it’s because most people here hate me,” he said, sliding the straps of his backpack over his shoulders. “You’ve probably heard things about me.”

“Yeah…are they true?” you asked, as he shook his head.

“You’re the first person that’s asked me that. Everyone else just assumes everything is true,” he sighed, “But no, I’m not a bad person.”

You started to feel so guilty. You’d said plenty of bad things about him, but you only heard one side of the story. With your friends’ story changing so many times, getting more dramatic each time she told it, you were starting to realize that it was all bullshit. You still didn’t know exactly what happened, but you were curious to know what the truth was.

“You okay?” Ethan asked, noticing that you were lost in thought as you stood in front of him.

“I’m friends with your ex,” you said, as his smile slowly fell. “What’s the real story?”

He sat back down in his seat as the other students piled out of the room. You sat beside him as you waited for him to speak.

“I really loved her…but she was just so controlling. Then she cheated on me when she went to the beach with her family. I didn’t find out about that until right before we started college,” he said, looking over to you. “She was pissed that I broke up with her, then all these horrible things about me started going around.”

“That’s fucked up,” you said, as he nodded.

“Yeah, she’s still been trying to text me. I finally blocked her a few days ago.”

“Wait, she said you’ve been trying to text her,” you said, his eyes growing wide at your words.

“Her number’s been deleted from my phone for months. I have no interest in talking to her,” he said, “I know this must be weird for you since you are her friend, but I think it’s cool that you wanted to hear me out.”

“Well, I feel like I need to apologize…I’ve said some things about you that weren’t true.”

“She’s a good liar. She has almost the entire school hating me so it doesn’t surprise me that her friend does, too,” he said, as he stood back up.

“I don’t hate you,” you said, smiling at him. “I don’t know if you’d want to, and I know she’d kill me, but if you ever want to hang out sometime, let me know.”

“I’d like that.”

Ethan was kicking himself for not asking you for your number, or shit, even your social media so he could DM you. He thought you were beautiful, but he knew that hoping for a chance with you would be a reach. He really just needed more people in his life that believed him to make the time he still had at the university more enjoyable.

Your friend begged you to come to a random frat party that you didn’t feel like going to in the first place. After your talk with Ethan, you weren’t even sure you wanted to be around her. You still went, and after searching for her for almost an hour, you checked your phone to see a message from her that she wasn’t coming, and that she ran into one of the guys she’d been hooking up with on the way to the party.

“Why the fuck am I even here?” you said to yourself as you locked your phone and slid it into the back pocket of your jeans.

“Hopefully to hang out with me, if your offer’s still good,” you heard from behind you, recognizing Ethan’s voice.

“Hey,” you said as you turned to face him. “I didn’t expect to see the most hated man on campus here.”

“My roommate told me that if I stayed in my dorm tonight, he’d throw my Xbox out the window,” he said, glancing over to the muscular guy that was watching Ethan talk to you.

“Ah, so you were threatened into being social,” you said, as he started to laugh.

“I guess you could say that. Do you want a drink?”

“Sure.”

Ethan wasn’t much of a drinker; you could tell by the sour look on his face every time he took a sip. It gave him a little confidence though, as the two of you talked and got to know each other a little better.

“I don’t think I can drink this anymore,” he said, sitting the cup down on a table. You sat yours down too, and as soon as you did, someone bumped into you, shoving you into Ethan.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” you said, looking up at him. Your chest was pressed closely against his, his hands on your hips from catching you.

“Don’t be sorry,” he said, “You can stay this close to me all night, if you want.”

“Are you always this smooth? Or is it the alcohol?” you questioned as he smirked at you.

“I’m only buzzed,” he said, before he leaned down, placing his lips on yours.

Chad was still watching Ethan from afar, cheering and thrusting his fist in the air once he saw Ethan kiss you. He started to laugh against your lips before he pulled away to stare daggers through his roommate for interrupting the moment.

“I can’t take him anywhere,” Ethan said, as you smiled at him.

“We could go somewhere more private,” you suggested, as he took your hand in his.

“Want to go back to my dorm? He’ll be here for a while so I know we can talk without being interrupted.”

“Sure!”

Once you made it back to Ethan’s dorm, you were starting to think that he really did just want to talk. You enjoyed listening to him, though. He was telling you about all his hobbies and interests, and you were telling him yours. You started to glance around his side of the dorm room, noticing the cliché, dorky things you’d expect to see.

“Nice Star Wars poster, nerd,” you joked, as he smirked at you.

“Oh, I’m a nerd?” he said, as he nudged you back on his bed. He was hovering over you, his mouth inches from yours. The sexual tension got so thick as his eyes looked into yours, his hand rubbing your hip.

“Mhm,” you said, the corner of your bottom lip in between your teeth. “A hot nerd.”

He felt his cheeks start to heat up, and he really didn’t want you to notice, so he leaned down to finally connect his lips to yours. It didn’t take long for the kiss to get more intense, his tongue brushing across your bottom lip. You let him deepen the kiss, his tongue moving with yours as his hands started to roam. You whimpered into the kiss once his hand squeezed your thigh, your hips started to squirm underneath him.

He pulled away but still stayed close so the two of you could catch your breath. You were reading each other’s faces, and it was obvious that you both wanted more.

“How far do you want this to go?” he asked, his breathing still heavy as his eyes looked into yours.

“As far as you want,” you said, your sweet tone making him groan.

“That’s not what I asked you,” he said, as he leaned back down to kiss your neck. His curls were tickling you, but the only reaction you had were the soft moans slipping past your lips from how well his mouth moved. His hips were rutting into yours, showing you how hard he was for you.

“I want you to fuck me,” you said, as he pulled away to look at you.

“You sure?”

“Mhm.”

Ethan was a little, well, very eager. He got you undressed in what felt like seconds, leaving you in just your panties. Once he stripped down to just his boxers, you got a little curious. You glanced down to see his hard cock straining against the fabric, and started to laugh to yourself, your gaze going to the ceiling.

“What’s funny?” he asked, as he hovered back over you to take one of your nipples in his mouth. Your laughing stopped, a gasp slipping out when he started to suck. “I asked you a question,” he teased, before moving to the other side.

“She really does lie about everything,” you said, as his tongue swirled. “She said you had a small dick.”

He started to laugh against you, before he pulled back. “That’s funny, because she couldn’t take it.”

“I can,” you said, his smile turning to a smirk as his hand trailed down your body to rub you over your panties.

“We’ll see about that,” he said, as he moved lower down the bed to position himself between your thighs.

He slid your panties down your legs, before running his fingers over your wet pussy. Your eyes stayed on him, your bottom lip in between your teeth as he teased you. Your anticipation just kept building as he moved down the bed, positioning himself in between your thighs. He leaned in, slipping his tongue inside your entrance.

He was sloppily eating you out, his head moving from side to side. His arms hooked under your thighs to pull you as close to his face as he could as your hands went to his hair.

“So good,” you whimpered, your breathing getting faster as he worked you closer to your orgasm.

He slid his tongue out of you to focus on your clit, quickly replacing it with two of his fingers. Your back was arching off the bed as he moved his arm back and forth, applying as much pressure as he could to that spongy spot inside you as he sucked on your swollen bundle of nerves.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you babbled, as he started to chuckle with your clit in his mouth.

That was all it took for your legs to start shaking and your grip on his hair getting even tighter. Once your pussy started to clench around him, he slowed his fingers to a slow roll, not wanting to overstimulate you. His tongue gently licked your clit as he worked you through it, your whimpers getting softer as you came down from your high.

“That was the best orgasm I’ve ever had,” you admitted through your shaky breathing. Ethan started to laugh a little as you looked at him, your eyes hazy. “What?”

“Just wait until I’m inside you,” he cockily said, “You still confident that you can handle it?”

“I know I can,” you said, your legs instinctively spreading wide for him as his fingertips ran up your thigh.

“What are you going to do when no one else can make you feel as good as I do?” he questioned, as one of his fingers started to rub circles on your clit.

“I guess I’d have to keep you around then,” you said, as he shook his head.

“You’d only have me until summer starts,” he said, his finger moving faster. “I’m transferring to a different school after this year.”

“No, you’re not..fuck. I’ll convince you to stay,” you said, relaxing into the bed as he teased you.

Ethan pulled his hand away from your pussy before he slid his boxers off. He crawled back on top of you and reached over to his bedside table to grab a condom.

“I might let you convince me,” he said, as he lined up with your entrance. You tensed up a little because you knew how big he was. “Relax, baby.”

You did as he said, taking a deep breath as he inched his way inside of you. You were moaning as he stretched you out, and when you thought he was all the way in, he just kept going.

“Oh fuck,” you whimpered, feeling so full as he finally came to a stop, wanting to give you plenty of time to adjust. “Told you..Fuck, I told you I could take it,” you said, already struggling to speak.

“Don’t get cocky,” he said, your mouth falling open as he started to move. “I’m going to ruin this pussy.”

“Ruin it,” you said, challenging him as your lusty, hooded eyes connected with his.

It took everything in Ethan to not immediately start pounding into you, but he didn’t want to hurt you. He started slow, your eyebrows already furrowing together, low moans slipping past your lips. The head of his cock hit that special spot every single time, but you needed more. He sped up a little as your legs wrapped around him, your hands gripped tightly around his biceps.

“Maybe you can take it,” he said, his breathing getting heavier. “Can I go faster?”

“Yes,” you whimpered, as his hips moved quicker.

Your brain was starting to turn to mush, the babbles slipping past your lips making absolutely no sense. The only thing your mind could process in that moment was how good Ethan was making you feel. He thought you were adorable, already so cock drunk, and he wasn’t even close to being done with you yet. He kept his pace, but occasionally thrust a little harder to see if you could take it, the loud moans slipping past your lips as your nails started to dig into his arms letting him know that you could.

He angled your hips to go even deeper. His pace was a little slow as he made sure you were okay. Your eyes were pleading with him to go faster, because you knew the words weren’t going to come out of your mouth. It was getting so hard for him to hold back, so he finally let go. He started to pound into you so hard that your skin was tingling, all the nerves in your body on edge. Your toes were curling as he slammed into your g-spot, your whimpers turning to cries as you felt your orgasm starting to build. It was hard for you to keep your eyes open, and you were sure Ethan was going to have your nail marks on his arms forever with how hard you were squeezing him.

“Fuck,” was the only word you were able to get out, your legs wrapping tightly around him as your body started to involuntarily jolt. Ethan was sure that everyone in the surrounding dorm rooms knew what was happening, because you were being so loud. He wasn’t letting up though. He loved that he was making you feel that good.

It only took a few more deep thrusts before your entire body started to tremble, loud whines flooding out of your mouth as the wave of euphoria washed over you. He chased his own orgasm as he fucked you through it, your pussy clenching him so tight that he was moaning himself.

“I’m almost there, baby,” he said, a slight rasp in his voice from all the panting he’d been doing.

You went limp, your grip on his arms and your legs around his waist relaxing as his hips started to falter, a loud groan slipping past his lips as he released into the condom.

He took a minute to catch his breath before he slid out of you. His abs were burning and his arms were sore from your nails, but he quickly got up to take the condom off so he could take care of you.

He crawled in the bed next to you as you adjusted to lay your head on his chest, still so fucked out that it was hard to process your thoughts. Ethan just held you close, his hands softly rubbing over your bare back as you relaxed into his touches.

“You’re okay, right?” he asked, after a few minutes of you not saying anything. You lazily nodded as your hand moved to rub across his chest.

You laid there in silence as you started to think about what’d just happened. You knew your friend was going to be pissed if she ever found out, but did that even matter? She made almost the entire university hate Ethan for things he never did, and it made you sad that he felt like he needed to switch to a different school so he wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.

“So…” you finally said, “How can I convince you to stay?”

He let out a nervous laugh, not knowing the best way to respond. “I can’t take people talking about me the way they do anymore.”

“Even if I convince everyone that it was all lies?” you questioned, your tone playful as you angled your head to look at him. “I think it’d be awful for you to leave because of her. You could miss out on someone that would treat you right.”

“Someone like you?” he questioned as he looked down at you. You nodded, before he leaned down to kiss you. “You’re good at this whole convincing thing.”

“Does that mean you’ll stay?” you asked, smiling as you sat up to look at him.

“Yeah, as long as you don’t break my heart,” he said, wrapping his arms around you to pull you back down to his chest.

“I won’t.”

You stayed in Ethan’s bed for a couple hours, making plans for all the dates he wanted to take you on. It felt like you’d known him for way longer than just a few days, the two of you having an instant connection. You hated to pull away from him, but you knew you needed to get dressed before his roommate got home.

“It’s late, can I walk you back to your dorm?” he asked, as he started to put his clothes back on.

“I can’t believe I thought you were this horrible monster. You’re so sweet,” you said, as he smiled at you. “Yeah, you can walk me home.”

Ethan walked you to the front door of your building, pulling you into a gentle kiss before he pulled away.

“I’ll text you,” he said, as he started to back away.

“Yeah, let me know when you make it back to your dorm, please,” you said, as he nodded.

When you made it upstairs and got settled into your bed, you heard your phone vibrate as it charged on your bedside table. You grabbed it and saw a goodnight message from Ethan, a huge smile on your face as you responded to him. You were so exhausted from the time you’d spend with him, and you soon felt yourself start to doze off. You heard your phone buzz again, your eyes lazily opening to see if it was Ethan. You took a deep breath once you read the message that was sent to you.

‘Why the fuck were you kissing Ethan at that party?’

[aliidarling]

i searched male manipulator music to find a song for this post LMFAOO anyways guys i dyed my hair burgundy:3 i’m in my red hair era

i need to purge my urges, shame shame shame ♡

RICK GRIMES x fem!reader

part 2

nsfw content — please scroll if uncomfortable

summary: you get taken by the CRM by total coincidence and reunite with your lover who you haven’t seen in years, only to find out he’s only a fragment of the man he used to be

tags: p in v, praise, gaslighting, toxic!rick, manipulation, i’m bad at tagging

nsfw content below !!

You were lying barely alive in a field, bleeding out from your stomach. Your eyelids were heavy as you struggled to stay conscious, not wanting to die. You had so much to live for.

Everything was a blur, the blood staining your clothes. His name echoed in your head. It had been years since you saw the man you fell in love with. Ever since that day the bridge exploded, the day you lost him.

It had been almost eight years since then.

You supposed a normal person would have moved on by now, but his face and voice still haunted you, keeping you up during late hours and not allowing you to rest.

It would only be fitting that he was the last person on your mind during your last moments. You only could hope you were one of his before the bridge took his life.

Everything started to fade slowly, your ears ringing. Your eyesight was spotty. All you wished for was to reunite with him in the afterlife.

As you finally went still, the loud noise of a helicopter nearing went unheard by you.

You had no idea what was going on. You were being carried by two large soldiers wearing all black, holding you up by your arms as your body dragged on the floor. When you awoke, you were in an infirmary, all bandaged up and feeling better.

It was like they worked magic on you. The bandages around your abdomen were the only evidence of the stab wound that was once there.

“Where the hell am I?!” You yelled, your voice almost scratchy. They ignored you and continued dragging you towards a door in the hallway.

“Listen to me you fat fucks!” A screech left you as they shoved you inside the room, slamming the door behind you. You stumbled into the room, quickly regaining your balance as you clutched your side, the aggressive treatment opening your stitches slightly.

“Jesus, what the f… Your words were trailed as you looked up and realized four people were staring at you, all of them seated in a row with one empty seat in front of them. You blinked slowly.

One of them calmly smiled at you and motioned for you to sit. You gritted your teeth, looking around the room. Soldiers were standing by the walls, guns in their hands.

You sighed and hesitantly sat down, giving them a blank look.

It had been a week since then. They explained the overall situation you were in, and how they had found you half-dead in a field and saved you. You felt a little grateful, obviously, but you couldn’t shake off the weird feeling this place gave you.

The way they didn’t let you leave no matter what you said was what freaked you out the most.

“What do you mean I can’t leave?!” You snapped, raising your voice at the tall man before you. He had introduced himself as Okafor and was one of your superiors. For the last week, you had been dragged outside by the gate, handed a sharp spear, and instructed to kill walkers without any choice in the matter.

He rolls his eyes at you and frowns, staring down at you.

“Why would you want to leave? We’re giving you a place to stay with a small fee for some labor.” He scoffs, ushering you off back towards the fence.

“You’re being brainwashed.” You grumble, reluctantly setting your spear back up and pulling your mask down.

Another few hours of just stabbing walkers in the head passes, tiring you. You’re leaning against the gate, blood all over your clothes and the jacket they supplied you with.

“Good job, rookie,” Okafor comments playfully, giving you a pat on the shoulder. You grumble and push him off.

“This place sucks ass. I just wanna go home.”

Okafor hums and shrugs at you.

“Sorry to break the news, but there’s no chance. Only one man in history has attempted to leave, and even he didn’t make it.”

This sparks your interest for a moment before you sigh and turn away.

“Am I done for the day?”

Okafor grins and immediately shakes his head, making you groan and cross your arms. You had been in the heat for half the day now, you were sweating and all you wanted to do was go home and wash all this blood off you.

“We have a commander coming to do a check-in. He’ll be here in around ten minutes, so stay put.” The words leave him smoothly, not giving you even a second to complain before he turns away and starts talking to another one of his men.

With a groan, you picked up your spear and started stabbing the walkers again. You felt like that’s all you’ve been doing recently, other than planning on how to escape this place.

A few long minutes later, you hear a name being yelled that makes your heart stop.

“Commander Grimes!” Okafor yells happily as a tall man in a tactical suit walks up to him, his back to you. Your blood ran cold as you prayed that it was some coincidence.

Even still, if it was a coincidence it would still make you feel sick. The universe always had its way of making fun of you, and now it was making you hear his name everywhere.

You stared at the man’s back, silently praying that when he turned around it would be him. Or wouldn’t. You were confused with yourself— you didn’t know if you wanted to see him alive if it meant he was working for this corrupted military.

But your heart ached, even if the cons weighed you down. You found yourself staring, walkers long forgotten.

Okafor notices you staring and frowns, turning his attention from the commander to you with a wave of his hand.

“C’mere, rookie. You gotta meet Commander Grimes.”

Oh fuck.

Your legs felt wobbly like they could buckle from underneath you at any second. With your legs working on auto drive and your mind racing at a thousand thoughts per second, you found yourself walking towards the two men.

Once you reached them, the tall man slowly turned to look at you. It felt like should have been in slow motion, but in reality, it was all going way too fast.

The commander turned to look down at you, his blue eyes and curls making you want to vomit. It was him. Of course, it was him.

His eyes were emotionless, his face completely blank. He stared at you like you were any other person. Like you weren’t the woman he shared a bed with for years. The woman who helped him raise Carl.

“Sweetheart, your mask,” Okafor comments mockfully, making you grimace. That’s probably why he’s staring at you like you were a piece of dust.

“S-Sorry, sir.” Your voice cracked slightly as you quickly pulled your mask off, your hair getting tangled slightly. You quickly brush it out of your eyes, blinking rapidly. Gulping down the nausea, you looked back up to meet Rick’s eyes.

He was frozen, his lips parted and eyes wide, not making a single noise. His back was turned to Okafor, so only you could see the expression he had. The expression of shock, realization, and recognition.

After a long moment of silence between the three of you, you held your hand up to your temple and saluted him, your fingers trembling.

“Commander Grimes.” Your voice shook as you pressed your lips together.

He stared at you for another long few seconds before nodding, so subtle you barely noticed. Everything in his body was on fire, alarms blaring and his heart pounding.

There you were. Standing in front of him. Saluting to him.

“Welcome to the CRM, consignee..” He trailed on.

You held back a laugh before muttering your name, glancing at him, the ground, and then back to Okafor.

“Am I free to go?” You said rather harshly, your fists clenching.

Okafor gave you a once-over, judging your dirty clothes stained by walker blood and messy hair from the mask. He hums before waving you off.

“Yeah, whatever, I’ll see you here at 8am tomorrow morning.” He mutters before going back into casual conversation with Rick.

As you walked away, you could feel a pair of eyes burning a hole into your back.

Just later that night, you were in your given apartment. It didn’t feel like home, like Alexandria. Your mind stayed on Judith and RJ, freaking out about whether they were alright or not.

Judith had stopped answering you a few days before you got captured. You knew a part of you was delusional for going out on a whole entire journey to find your lover when this whole time he was living luxury at the CRM. He was a commander, fuck.

What were you doing? Staying here? You needed to escape now, find Rick, and ask him what he was doing here. You wouldn’t leave without him, that was for sure.

You crawled up on your bed, hunching closer to the window. It led to a fire escape but was sealed tightly shut. For a place that says they never had anyone want to leave, they’re pretty cautious with these types of things.

Glancing at the mini kitchen, you got an idea. You grabbed one of the knives and got back on the bed and kneeled down next to the window and started to slide the knife between the slits, hoping to hear a crack or any type of noise that would alert you you’re going in the right path.

Not even mid-way through your little escape attempt, your door suddenly slammed open. You shrieked and dropped the knife, sitting up and turning towards your door.

Rick stood there, staring at you with a panicked expression. He shut the door, locked in, before turning back to you. He was wearing dark clothing still, but not tactical. Instead, he wore a button-up paired with jeans, with a leather jacket on top.

He rushed towards you and grabbed you, cupping your face with shaky hands and trembling lips. You immediately leaned back into him with the same expression, happy to finally be with him, and happy he still cared for you.

“You- you— why—“ He furrowed his brows as he patted you down in a panic, not believing the fact you sat before him. His hands were shaky as he cupped your face again and leaned down towards you, scanning every detail on your face.

“Rick, Rick— is it really you?” You gasped softly, sitting up further and pulling him in by wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He places one hand on the back of your neck while his other stays on your back, pushing you into him.

“It’s me, baby, swear. S’me.” He soothingly brushes his fingers through your hair before gently placing his other hand on your chin. His thumb picks at your bottom lip.

“What are ya’ doing here, sweetie? How’d ya’ find me?” His voice was soft and gentle, lowered. His thumb gently pulls your lip down before leaning his down. He breaths onto your lips.

“I-I— I’ve been, I’ve been looking. I swear. Almost died and CRM took me.” You muttered shakily. Rick frowns and massages the back of your head gently.

“You almost died?” He mumbled and gently pressed a kiss to your forehead. You whined softly, wanting nothing more then his lips on yours. Your hands clawed at his jacket. He giggles and pushes you down onto your bed, crawling over you and pressing your body down with his.

“You’re okay, now, right? Good girl, keep being good for me.” You nod in response as he kisses your neck, your eyes fluttering shut as your hands gently tug at his hair.

“Missed you.” You whimper into his ear, a soft moan leaving you as he nuzzles his beard into your sensitive flesh. His hips grind down on yours, the two of you desperate for each other.

“God, can’t even describe how much I missed ya’, gonna fuck you so good.” He almost whines. His hands come down by your sides and grab at you. He presses his lips against you hard.

A muffled moan leaves you as he sits up over you slightly. He pushes one of his knees between your legs and puts pressure against your core, his hand going to your shirt.

“I’m not gonna let you leave this time, kay’?” His eyes darkened as he said this, making you shiver. With a hesitant nod, Rick starts to pull your shirt off. Once you were topless underneath him, his lips pressed gentle kisses against every inch of your torso.

His breath brushed against your breasts. Your bra was the only thing separating him from your breasts. Without another second to spare, he reaches behind you to unclasp your bra.

This was all going so fast.

“Wait— Rick,” You whine softly, trying to sit up. He shushes you, cupping your breasts and pushing you back down, colluding his lips with your neck.

“Haven’t seen you in eight years, sweetheart. Nothing you do can get me off you.” He chuckles darkly, nuzzling his scratchy beard against your sensitive throat before pulling away and lowering his predatory gaze to your breasts.

A small moan left your lips as his hands started to massage your breasts, his warm palms gliding over your chest. Your nipples hardened, making him chuckle. He leans down, tweaking one of them with his finger and gently taking the other in his mouth.

Your eyes flutter as you find yourself being pleasured by the man you’ve been dreaming of for years— your body being treated like a vase. He was so gentle and soft with you, kissing every inch he could reach. His hands were soothing as they caressed you.

It still felt odd though. Something about his dark gaze and his possessive words had you shivering under him, looking up at his eyes. The new scars on his body had you wondering what he went through.

He was holding you close to his chest, hugging you tightly and humming soft little praises into your ear. His cock was buried deep inside you, your walls fitting him like a vise. He moaned into your ear, holding you so tightly you wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up with bruises.

His hips rocked smoothly, pushing himself deeper and deeper, wanting all you could offer. He wanted every inch of you and never wanted to let go.

“Good girl, so good for me, pussy so tight around me,“ He groans into your ear. His voice was raspy as his hands tightened around you, one on the back of your neck and gripping it. He held your face towards him so he could lean down to give you kisses whenever he wanted.

His other hand went down to work at your clit, humming approvingly as you clenched down at the pressure and let out an adorable little mewl under him.

“Wanna cum? Hmm?” He coos, gently rubbing your sensitive spot, leaning closer, and nuzzling into your neck. His thrusts get harder.

“P-Please, Rick, love you so much—“ You choke out, grabbing at him to steady yourself as he batters your insides. Your toes curled as your eyes rolled back, broken whines leaving your throat.

“Oh, oh, oh God— p-please! I’ve been so good..” You cried out into his ear as your words started to slur together. Your lips were quivering as he kept slamming his cock into your tight hole over and over again, sending you right over the edge.

“Yeah, you gonna cum? Mmm, good girl, just like that,” He whispers softly as he pounds into you more as you spasm around him. He feels your little cunt go tight around him and let out your juices. He grunts at the feeling, burying himself as deep as he could as he closes his eyes and leans his head back, relishing in the feeling of cumming inside you for the first time in eight heat.

“Yeah, sweet little baby. So good for me.” He groans as he fucks you gently through your orgasm, listening to your shaky moans and cries as your release keeps getting dragged on and on, more cum leaking out from your hole.

With a shaky sigh, he makes sure he has completely milked you out before slowly pulling out, small squelching sounds filling the silence. Your breaths were shaky, and so were his, both of you exhausted after the passionate love-making session.

“Rick..” You mumble tiredly, looking over at him. You lay limp on the bed, your pussy a mess with both your cums dripping out.

He smiles and looks over, now standing up and reaching for his boxers. He leans over you and pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, his thumb squishing your cheeks together.

“I’ll clean you up, kay? Gimme a sec, hun.” He says sweetly before pulling away once again and walking off to your bathroom.

A few minutes later the two of you laid in your shitty bed together, the mess between your thighs cleaned up. You were currently receiving a back massage from him, oddly enough. You laid on your belly as his large hands worked on your back muscles.

He stared down at you, admiring every little change in your body. He wished he was there for you all those years he wasn’t.

“What happened?” You asked softly, peering at him from over your shoulder. You felt him press his thumb down on a knot in your shoulder, making you whine softly.

“…You want me to start from the start?” He chuckles dryly. You give a hesitant nod.

“…Anne found me.. half dead on the riverbank. She was working with the CRM and turned me in, saved my life.” He spoke with a small hint of gratitude in his words, masked by his deadpan tone.

You continued to lay there silently, enjoying the back massage but still wanting him to explain everything. Was that all he was gonna say?

“..And? Did they— did they force you to stay? Did they hurt you?” You stuttered, wanting some type of explanation why he never came back. You wouldn’t be able to handle it if you found out he had willingly stayed here for eight years.

He was silent for a moment, his palm pressing down on your shoulder blades and rubbing in small circles. His eyes gaze down at you, wondering what to say to make himself not sound like the bad guy.

“No.” He mutters after a moment.

You felt like your entire world had shattered again, like he was being ripped from your arms like that day on the bridge.

“Why didn’t you try to come back?” Your voice cracked, making him realize he had screwed up. He hesitates on what to do before quickly pulling you into his arms, rubbing your back gently, and nuzzling your face into his chest.

“I did, sweetheart, promise. Tried a few times, but they stopped me. Made me realize what this place was. It’s life-changing, baby, you gotta give it a chance. I want you to stay here with me, kay? For me? Please, you gotta do it. If you loved me you’d stay, wouldn’t you?” He whispers soothingly, his words like daggers as he holds you tighter with every passing second.

“W-What? Rick? No— I can’t—“ You attempted to pull away, making him growl and push you down on the bed, crawling over you and planting his arms on each side of you.

“No, you gotta listen to me.” He says firmly, his eyes dark. Who was this man? Why was he treating you like this? The Rick you knew would never speak to you like this.

“Rick—"

He shushes you.

“You’re staying here with me, got it? It’s safe here. You’ll be safe. Don’t you wanna stay with me? Don’t you want tonight to happen over and over again?” He whispers, his dark tone turning into a sickeningly sweet one, his hand coming to cup your cheek and gently caress your skin.

“I can't, Rick. What about A-Alexandria? Judith? Maggie and Daryl— they’re all— you need to come home! This place isn’t good, good for you, good for us.” You attempt to plead.

Your words fall on deaf ears as he shushes you again, the dark look in his eyes coming back. He stares down at you in an almost offended manner.

“Are you trying to manipulate me?” He scoffs, sitting up and giving you a disgusted look. You freeze, quickly sitting up and attempting to reach for him. He clicks his tongue and pushes you away.

“I cant believe you sweetheart, just got me back, and is already trying to fall for your words. I thought you loved me?” He whispers slowly, glaring at you with narrowed eyes.

Your heart stops as his words settle in your throat, your eyes wide. Panic overtakes you as you quickly pull him back in and hug him tightly, trembling now.

“N-No, no, I swear— I wasn’t, I’m sorry, I’m sorry Rick, please don’t leave me.” Your words are small and fearful, fearful of him leaving you after you just found him.

His eyes soften as he keeps the sick grin from overtaking his face, his hands going to gently cradle you in his chest. He hums sweetly, rubbing your head.

“It’s okay, I know you’re just a lil’ confused. I’ve gotcha, sweetheart. I love you, okay? I’ll keep you safe and sound, just gotta stay here with me, can you do that? For me?”

“Y-Yea— yes, yes, anything for you.” You stammer, curling into his arms with watery eyes and shaky limbs. You didn’t want him to leave you, not again.

“Good girl. Knew you’d snap back to reality.” He chuckles dryly. His large hands hold you close to him, humming gently into your ear and rocking your small body.

The two of you lay there for a long time until you were asleep and gently snoring, and he was staring down at your vulnerable form, thinking.

You weren’t gonna go anywhere, and he’d make sure of that. He had searched for you for too long to let you slip away now, he’d rather die than watch you leave. He just needs to find a way to get Judith here, and you’ll all be the happy family you once were.

He’d make sure you had nowhere to go, even if it meant hurting you and twisting your sight on the world.

lmk if u want a part 2? idk what i could make happen but there's def potential

[the-boy-meets-evil]

maybe something sweet and fluffy with woozi. trying to stay late to surprise him with dinner or something but he finds you asleep on the couch. he's been stressed and working more than usual (insane behavior) and you just wanna help him relax and take the weight off his shoulders

pairing: jihoon x gn!reader genre: est. relationship | fluff, maybe the tiniest bit suggestive rating: e for everyone (but this blog is still 18+) word count: 1440 warnings: mentions of food but nothing else

author's note: thank you for sending this! i am painfully late with this (and wanted to wait to finish all the requests before posting). this is for my baby @effortandmore for her birthday drabbles. ily lauren 💕 divider by @cafekitsune

taglist: @crepecakeu, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizoon, @klecksstorys, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @naajaeminsgf, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @harry-the-pottypus, @pyeonghongrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality (strikethrough means can’t tag, check your settings!), join my taglist here

You’ve loved Jihoon for a long time. As a friend first and then slowly as something much more. When you first met him, you thought he was hard to read. Difficult to ever really know. As you spent more time around him, that idea morphed into something else as well. He’s not the kind of person to be vocal about what he’s thinking or feeling. If you’re waiting for him to tell you how he feels, then you’re going to be waiting for a while. Unless you know where to look.

That’s probably why it took you time to realize all the ways he was telling you that you were more than a friend to him. Over time, he started inviting you just to be around him when he was working on projects at home. Or inviting you over to do your own work at his place while he did chores around the house. Slowly, you realized that he always had your favorite snacks in the cupboards and favorite drinks in the fridge. Occasionally you would even mention needing something in passing and it would show up delivered to your house a day or two later. Never with a note, but always with the understanding that it was Jihoon taking care of it. Taking care of you. You realized that your heart shifted to caring about him as more than a friend before your brain even caught up. It was like he had been showing you all along that you could depend on him. 

Jihoon isn’t always one to say what he’s feeling, but he likes to hear it from you. It’s cute to watch his face light up when you tell him how much he means to you or why you think about him throughout the day. He’s easy, though, because he’s just as happy to have you around. Sometimes you don’t say anything at all, just curl up on the couch to watch a favorite show. Those are some of your favorites because you know how much space he’s made for you in his home. You know how important that space is to him so that he can recharge. But, he accepts you like you always belonged there with him. 

Lately, work has been a little overwhelming for him. Maybe not overwhelming as much as busy. You know how much he likes to be busy and would prefer that to work being too slow. It’s also clear how much he likes to solve a problem and be the one to find that elusive solution. So, this project has been challenging, often resulting in him staying late, and you know he wouldn’t change it. Even on the nights where he doesn’t get home until it’s nearly time for bed. 

Tonight, you’re trying to do something a little bit nice for him. It’s been days on end, even some weekends, of him busting his ass on this project. And you don’t understand the words he’s using. Haven’t ever really been tech savvy enough to get programming. What you do know, though, is that he’s been surviving on too much caffeine and food delivery. Sometimes he does listen and order from healthier places. Sometimes it’s all he can do to remember to eat at all, so it’s whatever can get to him fastest. But, he seemed pretty confident that he would be out of work at a decent time tonight. You decide to use your key to his place and let yourself in to surprise him with a great home-cooked meal.

For someone that doesn’t really like cooking that much, Jihoon has a pretty well-stocked kitchen. Although, knowing how considerate he is, that’s probably mostly because you liked to cook at his place and complained about all the things he didn’t have. All you need to do is show up with your ingredients. You decide on a menu of comforting foods that also can either keep warm on the stove or be easily warmed up without losing flavor. 

You figure that you should let him know that you’re going to be there when he gets home so it doesn’t surprise him. The food can be the surprise even if he knows you’re there waiting for him. He seems excited to see you when you text him. When the food is all ready, you figure that you can have a glass of wine while you wait. 

Jihoon: i’m so sorry, this is taking longer than i thought to wrap up

You: that’s fine, take your time

It’s not uncommon for Jihoon to send a text like that when he’s in the middle of a project. He hates it and you know he does. But, you also assure him that it’s fine. You didn’t have any actual plans and he doesn’t need to rush through work on your account. 

While you’re waiting, you decide on a little taste test of the food you made, careful not to make it too obvious that you’ve had some. Not that he would care, you just want the presentation to be nice for Jihoon. With some good food and a glass of wine down, you’re a little sleepy. Cooking can do that to you. There’s no harm, you figure, in getting comfortable on the couch while you wait and putting on some background noise. 

You don’t even realize that you drift off until you feel someone’s arms sliding underneath you. Your eyes flitter open and land on Jihoon. He’s got his shaggy hair pulled back into an elastic with strands falling out from the length of the day. His face is soft with nothing more than complete love and adoration. It’s so clear that he doesn’t want to disturb you and that makes your heart constrict further. This man has been working for who knows how many hours and he’s still taking care of you.

“I’m awake, babe,” you say through a slightly groggy voice.

“Sorry, was trying not to wake you up,” he says and pulls his arms back.

You catch one of his hands to pull him back in for a quick kiss. “I’m glad I woke up.”

“The place smells really good,” he comments.

“Yeah, I made dinner,” you say.

His face brightens for a moment and it makes you nearly melt. “I would’ve left sooner if I’d known.” 

“It’s a surprise, you goober,” you say with a smile. You pull yourself into a sitting position.

“Hey, it’s fine, I can get a plate,” he says.

“No, no. You go have a nice shower and by the time you’re out, I’ll have it all ready,” you say and get to your feet.

“You don’t have to…” he starts and you press another kiss to his lips before turning him in the direction of the bathroom.

“Go,” you say.

It takes a minute to shake off the cobwebs from your unexpected nap. By the time you’re in the kitchen and warming everything back up, you can hear the water running in the bathroom and the music audible even over the sound of the shower. It sounds like one of his more upbeat playlists, which is a good thing. Even if he doesn’t say much, you can always tell his mood by what playlist he puts on. Tonight, it seems like he’s in a good mood despite the long day at work. Part of you hopes that you surprising him adds to the good mood. 

The water shuts off, leaving only the playlist as your background and you know you still have a little bit of time before he emerges. So, it’ll be perfect timing as nearly everything is ready again. You’re putting a plate together when he emerges from his bedroom in gym shorts and a t-shirt, wet hair still falling around his face. The smile on your face is instant.

“What?” he asks.

“You’re just beautiful,” you say, smile still bright.

“I must look exhausted,” he brushes off.

“Still beautiful,” you insist and delight in the way blush creeps up his neck. To save him from saying anything, you hand over a plate.

“Can’t believe you did this,” he mumbles softly.

“I thought you deserved a treat,” you say as you grab your own plate. 

“Just having you here is a treat,” he says, unusually sappy with you.

“So you don’t want the rest of the post-dinner treats I planned?” you ask innocently. 

“Didn’t say that,” he says, locking eyes with you.

“How early do you have to be in tomorrow?” you ask. 

“I have the day off,” he says.

“Don’t get too full, then. I’ve got plenty of surprises for you,” you say. 

hope you enjoyed it! let me know 💕

[spookwyrdie]

Sweet Spot {part 1}

{part 1}{part 2}{part 3}{part 4}{part 5}{part 6}

Baker Felix x Florist reader

summary: You're putting together the floral arrangements for your ex's wedding as a favor, forgetting how passive aggressive he can be about your love life. Fortunately for you, one of your best friend's in the world comes over to feed you sugar and make you a sweet offer to get back at your ex. genre: fluff, smut, angst if you squint // word count: 2.8k // warnings: adult dialogue, sexual themes, wet dream // a/n: Trying out something longer and fluffier this time! If you'd like to be on the taglist, reply to this post or send me an ask 🥰

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

I have only posted this here and on AO3 - user: spookwyrdie

You should have never agreed to do this. Your fingers were sore from wire wrapping all the different bouquets, one for each bridesmaid, the ring bearer’s pillow, and the flower girl. So far, you were only halfway done with the floral arch and hadn’t even gotten to start on the table settings yet. There were bits of torn leaves, crushed flower petals, and feathers strewn around your apartment, trying to deal with the last minute changes in aesthetic that the bride asked for.

 The shift from a classic summer bouquet to something more bohemian wasn’t impossible, but it was a challenge with the wedding a week away. It definitely wasn’t your favorite aesthetic in the world, but you were determined to make it work.

The question of why you had agreed to do this at a quarter of your normal fee was beginning to fester in your mind, especially for your ex’s wedding. 

You and Johnny were amicable, sure. Civil might be a better word for it. You didn’t have any leftover romantic feelings for the man - that ship had sailed ages ago. The main problem you had now with him is that he always seemed to be in competition with you, always trying to steal your thunder or diminish your accomplishments. It was always underhanded and passive aggressive and you didn’t have the energy to really push back.

Speaking of the devil, your phone pings with a text message.

❌J: hey y/n, just checking in about the florals. Jenny is freaking out and wants an update you: working on them now! [image attached]  ❌J: wow! Hard at work! Is this the bride’s bouquet? you: yep! Putting the finishing touches on it now’s ❌J: it looks really busy, are you sure this is what she asked for? you: yes. I promise I’m following her vision that we spoke about during our last consultation. ❌J okay! just making sure! I know some of these changes need a quick turn around. ❌J: oh also… ❌J: i wanted to chat with you about something you: ? ❌J: I know things have been a little rough in the dating department for you lately but you still officially have a plus one to the wedding, in case you wanted to bring your sister or someone! you: …thanks.  you: Don’t know where the idea that I’m struggling with dating came from, but I appreciate the plus one. ❌J: I had just heard through the grapevine is all. ❌J: there’s someone out there for everyone! You’ll find them eventually. ❌J: like me and Jenny! We were just made for each other 💕 you: okay, Johnny! Great chatting, I’ll get back to work now! 

You swipe out of the text thread and pinch your brow, the feeling of a building tension headache settling right between your eyes. His audacity is always bewildering, he can have such a sickeningly sweet tone while making sure to get a jab or two in to hurt you. 

Sure, you haven’t had a solid relationship since the two of you broke up, but he doesn’t have to rub your nose in it. The relationship ended amicably enough once you both graduated from college, realizing that the two of you were drifting apart as you pursued your respective careers. Staying civil made it easier to maintain the friend group, neither of you had any real reason to be upset with the other. That didn’t mean you were close, you still kept your distance.

 When he had gotten engaged, you were genuinely pleased for him, and a little relieved. Sometimes, when you’d run into each other at parties, he would make it a point to find you and tell you how well he was doing. You’d get the feeling that he was trying to showboat his accomplishments - he always wanted to tell you all about his successes, all the great things going on in his life. 

He got a great job at some law firm, a promotion and another promotion. Then he had met Jenny, they got engaged, and wasn’t it just so cute that their names were so similar? Jenny and Johnny, Johnny and Jenny! It became their whole personality as a couple and he’d corner you to tell you about how amazing she is and how he had never met anyone who just got him like she did. Every time you’d deal with this, you felt like he had poured corn syrup on you with how saccharine he sounded.

He’d hear about your ebb and flow of love and give you such a pitying look. “Oh you haven’t been dating? That’s too bad, there’s someone out there for everyone! Just look at me and Jenny!” Just throwing small digs in your direction that flew under the radar for most of your friends. 

But you knew. 

You knew he was always trying to make you feel like you had “lost” the break-up. 

~~~

A knock at the door brings you back to the present moment. 

“Y/n~! It’s me! Open up,” a deep voice lilts in a sing-song voice. 

You shake your head, trying to snap out of your shitty mood to answer the door. On your doorstep is one of the best things that came into your life with his ice blond hair, freckles, and a smile that could light up an entire room. Before you can say anything, Felix barges past you into your apartment, holding two paper bags with the bakery’s logo on it.

“I brought some new flavors for you to try, I’m experimenting for the springtime,” he says as he starts unpacking travel pastry boxes with different colored cakes inside.

“Ugh, please don't talk to me about weddings right now,” you sigh. He pauses his unpacking.

“What’s up? You sound like someone kicked your dog.” 

“I just had the most passive aggressive interaction with my ex, Johnny.”

You open the text thread to show him. 

“This is your ex?”

“Yep.”

“Damn, he’s not even being subtle about it.”

“Nope.”

The room is silent for a split second before Felix brightens up again. 

“Well fuck that, the flowers look great, despite the boho bad taste. Come try these new cake flavors I’ve been playing with! Sugar always cheers me up.”

You give him a small smile, he always knows exactly how to bring a little optimism into a shitty situation. “Sure Felix, what have you got for me?”

Soon, you have 4 plates and forks out for the different cake concoctions.

“I’ve been playing around with different florals and citrus for spring, so here we have a lavender cake with key lime frosting. Over here, we have an earl grey cake with lemon curd and lemon buttercream. Then we’ve got a vanilla cake with a pistachio filling and a rose buttercream. Finally we have a jasmine green tea cake with yuzu curd and a vanilla glaze,” Felix says, bouncing on his toes. 

“Okay, Mary Berry! They all sound delicious.”

“You have to be one hundred percent honest with me, I want actual feedback on these!” He grabs your shoulders and looks deep into your eyes, your heart skipping a beat briefly at his intensity. He looks so eager for you to try his different concoctions. Most couples weren’t looking for anything too extreme in the way of flavors, most opting for a basic white cake and buttercream, so you knew Felix loved to share the uncommon combinations he came up with.

They were all so beautiful, perfectly cut out and frosted with care. You picked up your fork enthusiastically.

“Fuck, Felix, that’s delicious,” you say, savoring the citrus flavors. Every single one you tried was more delicious than the last. Your favorite had to be the earl grey and lemon. “This one tastes like how a springtime tea party feels.”

He smiles at you, his eyes crinkling into little crescent moons, his freckles stand out when he smiles so brightly.

“Thanks, it’s always nice when I get to play around with flavor,” he says, leaning back into his seat. As he stretches, his shirt rides up to reveal a small expanse of the bare skin where his hip meets his lower belly, the lean muscle definition standing out in the lamp light. You tear your eyes away when you realize you’ve been lingering your gaze on the scant inch of skin.

 “Oh my god, did tell you?” Felix blurts out suddenly. “I’ve been working with this couple for an upcoming wedding. Absolute nightmare. Terrible taste! Guess what they finally settled on for their flavor.”

“I don’t know, something basic I bet.”

“Fucking mint chocolate chip.”

“Mint chocolate??? For a cake???” You reel back in horror. What on earth kind of combo was that for a wedding cake?

“They insisted on it!” he says, throwing his hands in the air. “Well, the bride did. The groom was never at any of these sampling appointments. She was onher own and really pushing for something unique.”

“I guess it’s unique to make your guests hate you for your choice of cake flavor,” you say, grimacing at the thought of a mint chocolate cake. “Disgusting.”

“I feel bad for their wedding guests. That’s such a controversial flavor for ice cream, I can’t imagine how it’ll go down for the entire reception.”

You hum in agreement, picking up your fork and finishing off the last of your cake in one frosting heavy bite. 

“Y/n you’ve got a little-“ he reaches up, gently holding your chin. 

His gaze softens as he looks at your lips and you freeze in place. Your heart picks up speed, hammering in your chest, at this gentle touch. He doesn’t know that you have had a thing for him for years now, but you’ll never tell him. You love having him as a friend too much to ruin it, he’s the one spot of sunshine on dreary days. There’s no chance he’d reciprocate your feelings, he could literally date anyone the way strangers constantly fall in love with him at first glance.

But right now, he’s focused on your lips, his thumb brushing them carefully, swiping the bit of frosting that was left from your last bite.

“Oh my god!” You force out a laugh, pulling out of his grasp in embarrassment. Taking a napkin, you start furiously wiping your mouth. “Sorry! It was really good!”

“That’s the perfect kind of response to one of my baked goods!” He smiles, licking the frosting off of his thumb. Your heart leaps into your throat. 

Felix never seems to notice the effect he has on people, overwhelming charm, the magnetic pull he has on anyone within 10 ft of him. When the two of you worked at the old cafe together, you’d take a mental tally of the number of customers that would leave with hearts in their eyes after ordering coffee from him. You thought that after five years of friendship you could get used to it via exposure therapy, but his allure slams you in the chest all the time.  You try to keep yourself grounded in reality when he tugs at heartstrings like this - he does this with everyone so you try not to lose your head. But the way he’s looking at you now, leaning in close with fierce affection in his eyes, makes the delusion that he feels the same about you seem almost real.

You giggle nervously and move to tidy things up from the table after you two are done sampling. Felix leans against the counter, watching you, as you start washing the plates.

“I have an idea,” he says. “For your plus-one situation.”

“Okay, shoot.” 

“What if you take me as your date?”

“Be serious, Felix,” you chuckle.

“I am being serious, I clean up real good,” he says, grabbing at your waist playfully.

“Oh!” A fork slips out of your hand and clatters into the sink. “I mean- you don’t have to do that.”

“Nah, I’d like to! Think about it, it’d be perfect, Johnny has no idea who I am and I can brag you up while I’m there. Rub his nose in it for a change.”

“I-“

“Just think it over, no rush. I think it’d be real fun though!” 

You look at him blankly for a moment, your heart thumping in your chest again. “ Yeah, I’ll think it over.”

~~~

Your eyes are closed when you feel a pair of hands slink around your body, drawing you into a chest of hard, lean muscle. The scent like an apple orchard on a rainy autumn morning greets you, petrichor and wood mixed with something crisp and sweet, enveloping you in a sense of comfort. You look up to see who’s arms embrace you to find Felix hovering over you, deep brown eyes locked onto yours. You’re so close you could count the freckles on his cheeks and give a name to each one. He hums as he pulls you in closer, a deep resonance vibrating through his chest, warming you in more ways than one. 

Tell me it’s real, he says, almost silently.

It’s real, you reply. 

He leans down to capture your lips, pausing above you to nudge his nose against yours and smile. 

I’ve waited so long for this, he says as he finally presses his lips against yours softly. His movements are gentle but insistent, trying to communicate with you, speaking quietly of the years of yearning that have been building. Your skin sings with the way his hands splay on your lower back, pushing your pelvis into him as he presses his tongue against your lips, asking for permission. The kiss deepens and you fall further into him, molding yourself against him. Your hands wind their way into his hair, those ice blond strands wrapped up in your grasp.

A small tug has him detaching from your mouth in a gasp, arching into you ever so slightly as his eyes flutter shut. His fingers find purchase in your plush hips, gripping into you harshly as he yanks you even closer to his body, no space between your body and his. Your breasts press into him, feeling his every breath move against you. He groans at the feel of you before he wraps you up into another kiss, this one more fervent. The way your soft body fits against his so well has his tongue dancing with yours, surging into you then backing away, teasing you until your body feels like it’s on fire. 

You whimper into his mouth when he shifts, coaxing your feet apart to slot his thigh between your legs. He bears down on your hips, pressing your core against his flexed muscle. Liquid heat pools in your belly as he starts rocking against you, feeling his length against your hip, pleading for friction. His hands snake down to grab onto your ass, kneading into the thick flesh, controlling the pace of your grinding into him.

You feel that arousal building inside of you, the tension has you clenching while you rut your hips against him. You feel how wet your panties have become as they slide over your clit, your hips stuttering against him, nearing your peak. 

Felix, I’m- you start to say but he cuts you off with a kiss.

Come for me, y/n, he murmurs against your lips. I want all of you. I wanna feel you lose control.

His words have you moaning, your brow furrowing as your hips shake. He holds you steady as he bounces his leg slightly to add extra pressure. You gasp, feeling your muscles tighten.

Give it all to me, he whispers against your lips. It belongs to me.

His voice sounds distant as you feel yourself coming to the edge. 

Suddenly, your eyes flutter open. You find yourself in bed, thrusting pitifully against your pillow, your heart racing and your skin flush with arousal. As you start to pull yourself out of the dream you were so wrapped up in, your orgasm shatters through you, moaning into the dark of your room. Your legs shake as your core muscles flutter, throbbing at the thought of Felix’s mouth on yours. As you start to come down from your high and settle into reality, you can feel your own pulse in your clit, your legs tangled in your sheets with a pillow between your legs, forehead glistening with sweat. 

It felt so real, like you could actually feel the ghost of his hands on your ass rocking you against his body, his groans ricocheting in your chest. You haven’t had a dream like that in ages, it was so vivid. You wanted it to be real so badly.

That settles it. You reach for your phone, the light piercing through the darkness, staring at the clock that reads 4:26 AM. Opening your messaging app, you type out a quick text and hit send.

you: okay Felix, let’s do it. Will you be my plus one?

[onlinekitsune]

LOST IN A ROOM

“boy, what did I tell you? love makes you a dead fool.”

— #RAFAYEL: LOVE AND DEEP SPACE

— PAIRING, GENRE, WARNINGS: rafayel x gnc!reader, mainly fluff, with a bit of flirting and banter, implied nsfw things but nothing specifically stated, no warnings!!

— SYNOPSIS: after a work trip, you return to a pouty and dramatic rafayel. you attempt to make up for your absence by surprising him with a sudden visit. but end up… having a different way of catching up.

— WRITER’S NOTE: long time, no post. hiii besties, i found this in my google doc’s and decided to finish it. i haven’t been too inspired to write lately so my bad. i stole the title from a song by rome hero foxes. uhhmmm not proofread per usual. enjoy and take care of yourself, mwah mwah ♡

It had been a while since you were able to go to Rafayel’s studio. It wasn’t intentional, it had just been a busy week. A week that was quickly reaching two and he wasn’t shy to remind you almost constantly.

“Aren’t you my bodyguard? You’re supposed to be checking up on me too.”

You rolled your eyes, hearing his voice vacant your head again. To make up for your absence, you decided to surprise him with a visit. You quietly opened the door, trying your best to sneak through. It was hard to do since it was so silent, the only sound being a soft flutter of a curtain from an opened window. You searched each room, anticipating Rafayel, but was met with disappointment. It wasn’t until you reached his living room where you saw him. He was laid out on his couch, his breath slow and calm. You walked closer, making sure you stayed silent. Your hands hovered over him before caressing his face with your finger tips.

“Hm… you’re cute even when you’re sleeping.” You scoffed, brushing your hand down his face. You moved a stray hair from his face, taking another second just gazing at him. “I’ll let you get your rest.”

You let out a soft breath, going to turn towards the door. You didn’t even make it a step further before, Rafayel quickly grabs your wrist, pulling you back into the couch causing you to fall into his arms. He wraps them around you before gently placing his head into the crook of your neck.

“Y-You were awake?” You gasped, flipping your head towards him. His eyes were still closed, with the same calm expression as before.

“Mm... no need to be so loud.” He grumbled, pulling you even closer. You were basically just his plushie at this point. “Surprised you even remembered that I’m alive.” His eyes remained closed but now accompanied by a pout. Your hands moved towards his, now realizing they were placed on your waist.

“Rafayel… I was busy. I did tell you this time. And I came here to surprise you. Surely that counts for something.” You softly sighed, brushing your thumb across his hand.

“Hmph.” He continued to pout. “What are you going to do to make it up for me?”

“Was coming over not enough?”

“Not at all.” He whined, finally opening his eyes. “That’s your duty, a long awaited one at that.” You shake your head and let out a small laugh.

“Fine. What can I do to make it up to you then?”

“Prove that you're sorry.”

“And how do I do that? I already apologized to you.”

Rafayel huffed, before slightly shrugging. “That’s for you to figure out. It wouldn’t be genuine if I told you what to do, now would it?”

You stayed there in silence for a moment, contemplating on what to do. You managed to turn around to face him. Rafayel made a face at you but continued to look at you curiously.

“You’re such a baby, you know?” You laughed, reaching towards his face. You slowly leaned in to kiss him, but instead placing it on his cheek.

“Now you’re just mocking me.”

“You’re so dramatic, Raf. Do you want a kiss that badly?” You teased, half joking. He suddenly pulled you even closer. You were almost on top of him at this point. Your leg rested on the top of his thigh.

“I do. Is that so wrong?” He asked, sliding his hand underneath your chin to the back of your neck. Your words were caught in your throat, unaware of this side of him. “Can I kiss you, Miss bodyguard?”

Your words continued to be stuck, only able to nod continuously. Rafayel slowly leaned in, placing a soft kiss against your lips. You melted against his softness and the warmth coming from him. You came to after a second wrapping an arm around his neck. You were hungry for more. His kiss was too addicting, you would have gotten mad if you could think straight. The soft kiss evolved into desperation and need. You softly bit his lip, in hopes that he’d slightly part them. And he did. He knew your body language all too well just from the encounters with wanderers.

“Now who’s so dramatic?” He chuckled, pulling away. You pout, looking up at him. “Come on, don’t you wanna tell me about your trip?” Rafayel smirked, sitting up straight. Your brows slightly furrowed. You’d forgot how cocky he could act.

“That can wait… stop acting so unaffected. I can see how flushed your face is! We have… catching up to do.” You muttered, pulling him back towards you. He returned without a second thought. Chuckling on his way down seeing your sudden switch.

[ambrozjas]

reader x gang request 🫶

Reader that can crochet making a sweater for the gang? (separate)

You don’t have to do and if you do, thanks 💓

the gang x reader that can crochet ꨄ︎

✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ

sorry i haven’t been posting as fast lately, this one took some time and i put MUCH LOVE into these blurbs, so i hope you guys enjoy xoxo 💕

✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ

some curse words, alcohol, a mention of a threading needle, let me know if i missed anything though !!

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

“what’s this?” DARRY asked, holding up a maroon crocheted sweater that he found in a box under your bed.

your head snapped to the sweater, remembering the night you spent hunched over a table, weaving a needle delicately through the yarn, sewing them together.

“oh, uh.. it’s a sweater?” you mentally facepalmed, of course it was a sweater.

darry just chuckled and turned it around, analyzing it and every little fiber of its material.

“i mean, did you make it?” he asked, blue eyes gazing at you. your face heated up under his stare, darry always seemed to hold this forward eye contact that nobody could beat.

“yeah, made it f’you actually.” you said, continuing to iron darry’s work shirt and directing your attention to cleaning.

a silence passed between you two for maybe ten seconds before darry let out a small, “ain’t that somethin’?”

“shut up.”

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“hey SODAPOP, let me talk to you for a sec.” you said, walking in front of him with your hands behind your back. he was on the couch, his attention now on you rather than the television.

“what is it, darlin’?” he inquired, a smile being brought on his face just from the sight of you. the corner of your eyes crinkled as you grinned, “made’cha something.” you said.

“that so? what is it?”

you brought your hands out in front of you, only to reveal in your hands a small crocheted pony, it had a golden brown yarn for its coat and black for its mane and tail, resembling sodapop’s old horse mickey mouse.

you knew how much he loved that horse, and how devastated he was when it got sold. even if it was definitely an ornery horse. so you crocheted him a little version of his old stable pony, so they could meet again.

soda’s eyebrows furrowed and the corners of his lips downturned a bit, before he looked back up at you. “you made this?” he asked. you nodded and rolled back and forth on the balls of your feet, anticipating his reaction.

“do you.. like it?” and before you could say more, soda pulled you down onto the couch to hug you.

“‘course i like it, thank you.” he said, rubbing your back when you hugged him back.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

you groaned as you rested your head on PONYBOY’s bed. you were sitting on the floor, already starting to work on a sweater for your him (although, he didn’t have to know that part), but couldn’t settle on a design.

“hey pony, can you do something for me?” you asked, craning your head to look back at your boyfriend who was laying down with a book in his hands, as usual.

“yeah sure, what is it?” he said, his head bobbing from the movement of mouth moving while his chin was on his chest.

all you did was hand him a pencil and throw him a sheepish smile, cocking your head. “what?” he asked, setting the book down and taking the pencil. “what do you want me to do with this?” he asked.

“need you to draw somethin’ for me hun.” you turn to his desk, opening one of its drawers and finding a blank sketchbook before unceremoniously tossing it to him.

“what do i draw?”

“anything.”

“well cant you—,” he paused, taking a second to look at you batting your eyelashes and pouting at him, “—fine.” he mutters, leaning over the book and sketching away.

you smiled brightly, watching him work. he glanced up at you, unable to hold back a small smile himself. because even if you didn’t realize it, he knew that you had him wrapped about your finger.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

you had met up with JOHNNY in the lot again, him still frazzled about his home life. it was getting too much at this point, and all he wanted to do was seek comfort in you.

you held him as his shoulder shook with silent sobs, his hand covering his mouth in order to muffle most of them, but your heart still broke as one or two came through.

“i just—,” another cry, “i just can’t anymore.” he said. johnny’s arm were wrapped around you tightly, like you’d let go at any moment and leave him.

your hand rubbed his back soothingly, occasionally coming up to his head and cradling it as if he was a baby. until he cried himself out.

after a while, you both ended up on your backs just facing the stars. you talked about stuff, dreams of moving away from tulsa or a better life. but then you remembered something.

“oh! shit..” you mumbled, sitting upright and reaching over for your bag. johnny sat up onto his elbow, looking at you in confusion. you rummaged through your bag, tongue slightly sticking out of your mouth in focus before you finally found it with a little ‘aha!’ leaving your lips.

“what’s that?” he asked, watching you pull out a knitted sweater.

“it’s a sweater i made for you.” you shuffled over and handed it to him, neatly folded and smelling pretty like your house.

“if you don’t like it—“

“no.” said johnny. “i like it.” he looked up at you. god, he looked perfect. the moonlight hitting his face just right, giving him a blue hue where the light shined on him and his hair.

you did what any reasonable person would be. you grabbed johnny’s face, giving him enough space to pull away, and leaned in to kiss johnny under the moonlight.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

you had spent all night working on this sweater for DALLAS. you were sat at your desk with only a small dull lamp illuminating your work for you. your hands were starting to shake and you growing antsy with how long you were sat for.

dallas, as per usual, was bumming it at your house. he was next to you, laying on your bed arrogantly with a cigarette hanging out of his mouth and an arm behind his head.

dally watched you work, his head turned slightly where he could watch you and look around the rest of the room from his peripheral. the way you were just so focused was satisfying to him.

you tapped your foot, you wanted to take a break and lay with dallas but you knew that if you didn’t continue with the sweater, you wouldn’t wanna do it later.

finally, you sighed and smile, holding up the sweater so dally could see.

“y’know i’m not gonna wear that, right?” he said, in the middle of trying to blow a smoke ring.

you just hummed, attention mostly on putting all your supplies away instead.

“yeah you will. i know you will.”

“and how d’ya know that?” he said, turning his head all the way in your direction.

“because i speak dallas winston.” and to that, dallas scoffed and looked away, because he knew it too. he’d wear that sweater in private, but he’d never admit to anybody.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

TWO-BIT took another swig of his booze, watching mickey mouse on television. the grainy audio traveling to the hallway where you were walking into the living room from.

“hey, look at this.” you told him, sliding up next to him on the couch. he looked at you for moment, alternating between watching the tv and you.

you showed him the crocheted sweater, hoping he would like it. his eyes were glued to your tv for a while, before you nudged him in his ribs. he shifted away and giggled a little bit, before looking down at the sweater, his lips parting in shock.

“oh m’glory baby, this is amazin’.” he slurred, taking it into his own hands and staring at it, setting down his bottle.

you leaned forward and looked at how many bottles were on the ground.

“how many drinks have you had?—“

“nevermind that! i’m looking at a masterpiece darlin’..” he said, you didn’t miss how his voice broke a little at the end.

“are you cryin’, keith?” you chuckled, putting your hand on his shoulder. he must’ve gotten a bit emotional with how many drinks he’s had.

“no! i’m just—..” he hunched over and and buried his face into the sweater, taking in the scent of your lotion faint on the yarn.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

“awh, hell naw! i’m not wearin’ that!”

“yes you are! get over ‘ere!” you yelled, running after STEVE with the sweater in your hands.

he scurried away, sliding around all the hallways in order to get away from you. you two both laughed as you tried to catch him, and finally you had him cornered.

he was stuck in the corner of your room, eyes darting for any possible way out. you carefully stepped towards him, holding the sweater up by its neck. “nowhere else to go, baby. it’s time.” you grinned, before running at him.

but before you could grab him, steve charged and picked you up, throwing you onto the bed.

you squealed as he blew raspberries in your neck, laughing loudly along with you too.

“just—! just put the goddamn sweater on, will you?” you asked, trying to get through one sentence without giggling. steve held his face in your neck as he thought for a sec.

“can i get a kiss in return?” he lifted his head to look at you, flashing you those beady brown eyes and batting his eyelashes dramatically.

you placed a quick peck on his lips and did your best to push him off of you, throwing the sweater so it’d land on his face. “now put it on.” you laughed softly, and with that laugh, steve would’ve done anything.

when soda came over later that day though, he definitely took notice.

“wow steve, very fashionable today.”

“shut th’fuck up, man!”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ eeek!!! sorry this took so long, all the of gang hcs take me a bit, love :( but i like how this turned out! sorry that sodapop was the only one that didn’t involve a sweater, i just thought it’d be a cute idea 😭🫶

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

[trippinsorrows]

with me + part five

authors notes: hi! you guys are so freaking awesome and sweet and like gawww, so grateful for such kind words and support!

so i realized that i used the wwe names for jimmy, jey, naomi, etc. that was my bad. i'll be using their real names moving forward for the sake of flow and consistency.

also keep forgetting to state that current timeline is 2023. like, this chapter is fall 2023. everything, so far, post breakup for joe and reader has been 2023. i plan to follow that timeline, so make of that what you will.

i hope this chapter isn't too boring to people!

warnings: fluff, language, suggestive content

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

words: 5.7k

tags: @pixiedust4000 @southerngirl41 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @wonderingfashion

“So, are we just going to continue to ignore each other?”

You’re not sure how, but you sense his presence long before he even says anything. And instantly, your mood is dampened, not that you were in the best spirits to begin with. You didn’t get much sleep the night before, for reasons you cannot fathom. But, it’s annoying as hell, especially when you have an ex turned fuck buddy who can’t seem to get a fucking clue ready to confront you outside of your daughter's preschool.

Sighing heavily, you pull out your phone to play around with your lock screen, because you really don’t have anyone you need to message in this moment. But, he doesn’t need to know that. “Not now, Amir.”

“Because you’re so busy?”

“Because I don’t care.” One thing you’ve learned about yourself over the years is that once you’re annoyed with someone, there’s no filter on your mouth and you cannot be held liable for what comes out of it. “Now, please, go away.”

He just looks at you, sun shining down on his waves and chocolate complexion. It’s unfortunate outside of his looks that he’s an overall trash partner. Decent friend. Shitty boyfriend. “You always do that shit, you know? Pull and then push. It was kinda cute when we were kids. Now, it’s just annoying.”

You were standing outside of Callie’s preschool, waiting for the kids to be dismissed, waiting for your little girl to come running out with a smile on her face, request on the tip of her tongue. It’s usually something small like wanting to show you what she learned in school. Lately, it’s been the same.

Can I call Joe?

A part of you feels bad for the amount of calls he probably gets in one day just from Callie alone. She took your offer for her to call him whenever he was available to another degree, not that he minded. He took as many as he could, listening to her talk and talk about whatever happened to be on her mind in that moment. And you let her.

What kind of mother would you be if you stopped her from talking to her dad? Even if she doesn’t know that’s who he is. 

It’s been almost two weeks since he left, and she clearly misses him. You often overhear her asking about when he’s coming again. You also receive those questions. It’s something you and him discuss via text but haven’t landed on a date yet. 

Communicating with Joe is also something that’s still an adjustment. It’s not as difficult or uncomfortable, because it’s almost entirely about Callie, but still. 

“If that’s the case, why do you bother?” You manage a less insensitive tone, even if you know good and well you’ve never led this man on. Amir has always heard and believed what he wanted to believe. That was the problem. He never listened to you.

“Because I fucking care about your annoying ass, duh.”

His delivery, the tone, and cadence. You laugh. It’s probably inappropriate at the moment, but it does bring a smile to his face as well. “Softie.”

He moves closer to you, arms crossed. “I’m serious, Y/N. You know how I feel about you. How I’ve always felt about you.” 

Leaning against your car, you respond as calmly as you can, “and you know I’ve always made it clear I’m not looking for anything more. We had our time, Amir. It didn’t work out. Now we just help each other get off. I don’t know why you keep trying to make it more than what it is.”

“A date. One date,” he implores. A waste of time, because your answer is no. It’s been no and will continue to be no. “You haven’t even given ‘adult’ us a chance.”

There’s a headache in your near future, one that’s reminiscent of past ones only Amir seems to induce. It’s interesting how he went from indifferent asshole to clingy asshole. You almost miss the earlier version.

Chocolate was supposed to be good for the soul, so why was he so draining to yours?

“Amir…..” You try to pick your words carefully and be mindful of your tone. “This is getting real old. I think we need to stop messing around, because we’re clearly not on the same page.” The next part is something you probably shouldn’t share, but you call yourself trying to be open and clear. “Calista’s dad is back, and we’re trying to navigate coparenting, so—” 

“What?” He stops you, shock written over his handsome face. “Are you serious? You’re letting that motherfucker back in ya’ll life?”

This time, it’s his tone that jumps, accusatory and harsh. You immediately grow defensive. “You don’t know him.”

“God, why do you defend him like this? Is it that Stockholm Syndrome shit? He left you. He left you and his kid. What kind of man does that? And you’re just letting him back in? Just gonna jump back on his dick? Letting him around Callie? She’s old enough now to remember when he decides to leave again. I don’t get how you don’t see that. You her mama. You supposed to look out for her.”

And now, you’re done trying to be nice, trying to be mindful that he’s still another human being with feelings. Because one thing you never have and never will tolerate is someone insinuating you’re not looking out for your daughter. You’re not perfect, but you know that you’re a devoted, dutiful mother. 

“It’s obvious comprehension isn’t your strong suit, which I should have known based off the fact that I always had to help your dumbass do your homework back when we were in school.” All bets….off. “My baby? My life? My pussy? All my business. You don’t get to judge the decisions I make for my child nor the role that her father has in her life. That’s between me and him. Keep your nose out my fucking business. Don’t worry about me hitting you up anymore. That’s dead.”

Your rose will do just fine. Hell, there’s gotta be at least one other eligible bachelor in town you could fuck if absolutely need be. But, you know damn well you won’t be messaging Amir anymore. He comes with too much baggage. It’s not worth it. You refuse to let a nigga whose height starts with a 5 stress you out.

True to his nature, he starts gaslighting you. Typical Amir. “There you go overreacting and shit.”

“No, I’m not. You’re trying to question my parenting when you don’t know shit about shit.”

He sucks his teeth, rolling his eyes. This was why people used to say you had a temper in high school. Because of him. Because he loved to tell people what you said but never what he did. Always tried to make you feel crazy. Truth be told, you’re stupid for even opening that door with him again, even if it’s just for sex.

“Whatever, Y/N.” He turns to walk back over to his car. You really wish his damn sister would change her work schedule so she can pick up her son instead of this asshole. You’ll catch a case fucking with his dumbass. “I’ll wait for your text.”

He’ll be waiting. “Fuck you, Amir.” 

You should be more mindful of your language at a damn preschool, but Amir has managed to get under your skin, something that hasn’t happened since you were in college. You know a good part of it is because you’re sleep deprived, but you also know it’s partially because of his dig at Joe.

You understand the optics seem to indicate that he’s a deadbeat, but you’ve expressed to Amir countless times that it was a complicated situation. He didn’t know the specifics, but you made it clear Joe didn’t abandon you or Callie. That’s just the narrative Amir keeps running with, and now with Joe being back in your life and especially in Callie’s life, you’re not gonna let it continue. 

“Mommy!” Your head snaps to see and feel Callie run up to and hug her body against your leg. “Boo!”

Shit. Did she hear any of that? You hope not and paste on a smile that’s hopefully authentic enough to sell that everything is fine. “Callie Bear.” You lean down and pick her up, kissing her cheek. “Did you have a good day?”

She nods and starts explaining the activities while you buckle her into her carseat, trying your best to calm down and not give away your high stress levels in that moment. Callie is super perceptive, and you don’t want to ruin the obviously great day she’s had.

And sure enough, as you’re putting on your seatbelt and starting up the car, the golden question is shouted with pre-excitement. 

“Can I call Joe when I get home?”

Smiling at her through the rearview mirror, you answer, “yes, you can.”

In the almost two weeks that have passed since Joe’s departure, not one day has passed that Callie doesn’t asks to call Joe or just outright helps yourself to her iPad to call him. Sometimes several times a day during the weekends. And she’ll talk to him for as long as she can, as long as he’s able to hold a conversation with her. You’ll give it to him, he’s done an exceptional job handling all of it. On some level, you wonder if you should set some restrictions or time parameters, but how do you limit how much a daughter interacts with her father?

Callie rejoices at your approval and requests for you to put on the Disney playlist you made specifically for her on Spotify. 

The drive, no more than 10 minutes, consists of the two of you singing along to a few Disney tunes. It’s a bit of a tradition between you, a way to bond via your shared love of Disney. A love that ties not only you to her but to the women before you. Your mom and grandma. 

Arriving to your apartment complex, you decide to leave your work bag in the car. It’s Thanksgiving break. You most likely won’t do any work until the day or two before having to return.

You do carry Callie on your hip and swing her bag around your shoulder, walking the two of you up to the second floor. Sometimes, you regret not accepting the apartment they had available on the first floor. The older you get, the less your joints like to cooperate, your almost 15 years of cheer probably taking a toll on your body. 

And just age in general. 

But your regret quickly turns to a level of gratitude when you reach your door. 

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Dropping Callie to the floor, she’s of the complete opposite reaction, gasping and smiling broadly. 

“Look mommy, more boxes!”

The smile is strained but you manage to maintain it, sticking the key in the door, unlocking and pushing it open.

She walks in, and you place her bag on the floor near the door, one foot keeping it open. “What do you think it is?” She asks as you pick them up and bring them inside, kicking the door closed behind you.

You know exactly what it is. What it all is. 

Gifts.

From Joe. 

In his absence, you’ve had several deliveries waiting outside your door when you got home from work and picking Callie up. And all of them were for Callie, gifts of variable nature but all of them things she loves. Disney, stuffed animals, dolls. Essentially anything that could make a 4 year old feel like she’s won the lottery. 

She’s literally bouncing on her toes, already with her kids scissors in her hands. 

When the hell did she grab those?

“Can I open them, please? Please?”

A part of you wants to say no, save them for christmas gifts, though you’re almost entirely certain he’ll have another set of gifts for her then. And it seems almost cruel to make her wait over a month when she knows there are presents waiting for her.

“Sure, but….” You scamper into the kitchen and grab your adult size scissors, returning and showing her. “Let mommy cut them, and then you open them.”

You don’t need this child accidentally cutting herself. Again, medical bills are not in the budget, especially around the holidays. Money’s already tight to some extent. 

Not that….not that it’d be much of an issue with Callie. You’d never fix your moth to ask Joe for anything, especially not financially, but if it was something involving your daughter, you’re pretty sure your tune would change. It would still bother you to ask for help, but you know he’d have zero qualms helping you out.

He’d probably pay for it in its entirety.

Your proposition pleases her. “Okay!” She places her scissors on the nearest flat surface and sits down, legs crossed, bouncing impatiently. 

Chuckling, you glide your scissors across, careful not to open anything. You want to save that moment for her and your plan. 

Once done, you place the scissors on the kitchen island and reach for your phone. “Wait before you open, baby.” 

Immediately, she frowns and scowls, “whyyyyyy.”

Rolling your eyes, you sit on the floor too to be at her eye level and open Snapchat. “Okay, now.” 

You hit record and watch intermittently through and outside of the screen as she opens the boxes, smile permanent and excitement palpable. She especially gets excited when she pulls out a freaking box of the new Little Mermaid and all of her sisters. More….dolls. 

“Look, mommy!!!” She then grabs a doll who has a surprisingly similar complexion and curl pattern to hers, holding it against her face. “She looks like me!”  

“She does,” you agree, realizing it’s a customized American Girl doll. Damn. Those things can run up to $200. You weren’t stupid, knowing Joe’s probably spent more money on Callie alone in two weeks than you’ve spent all year, but just how much has he spent?

It’s when she opens the final box, surrounded by nothing but toys and packaging that you’re already dreading having to stuff all this in your trash bin, “what do you say, baby?”

Callie hugs the American Doll close to her chest and directs to the camera, “thank you, Joe!” She gasps and adds on, “I miss you, but mommy said I can call you tonight!”

You hold back your giggle and agree, adding, “after she helps mommy clean up all this.” 

Her smile drops, pout returning, “I hate cleaning.” 

Snickering, you mutter, “you and me too, sis.” 

You end the video, save it and enter Joe’s chat to attach the video, adding a message.

You: You’re spoiling her, Joe. 😫 This is the third delivery this week alone. 

You’re able to clean up some of the packaging and throw it away before your phone chimes with his response. Callie has grabbed the amount you expected her to grab and discard. Her attention span is trash at the moment. She’s a child surrounded by toys. It’s expected. 

Joe: She's my little girl. Of course, I’m gonna spoil her.

Joe: There should be another one by the weekend. If not, let me know.

You sigh aloud, this man is gonna have your place looking like freaking KB Toys.

You: Omg

You: ….You know I live in an APARTMENT, right? Just where the hell am I supposed to put all of this stuff?

It’s sweet he’s so keen on gifting her these things, but he also has to realize you’re not living in a mansion in Malibu. And despite having a child who leaves messes wherever she goes, you do your best to keep your place tidy. 

 If you didn’t know Joe, didn’t see how easily he connected with Callie, you’d maybe accuse him of trying to “buy” her love. But, you know that’s not the case, know that he clearly just wants to make her happy. You just hope he knows that he does that all by himself, no gifts needed. 

Joe: She has a whole playroom.

You: Yes. Playroom, not Toys-R-Us. 

Joe: 🤷🏽‍♂️

You: 🙄 You’re aggravating.

He doesn’t say anything after that, so you decide to finish cleaning because at some point your child wandered off, most likely to her playroom to add all her new stuff with her slightly new stuff. Taking advantage of the alone time, you also decide to text your mom to figure out thanksgiving plans. Specifically, what drink, dessert, and/or condiments she wants you to bring because you damn well know she won’t ask you to cook.

She still hasn’t forgiven you for that accidental fire that one year.

And it’s when you’re sitting on the sofa, also starting to think about black friday plans that your mind wanders, your anxiety grows out of nowhere.

You’ve taken the approach to not have any say in Joe’s relationship with Callie, to intervene only when absolutely necessary. And as that hasn’t hasn’t occurred, you’ve not done so. You let him and her do their thing. But a small part of you wonders if you should put some parameters around Callie. She calls him several times a day, Joe, who spends more time on the road than there are days in the year.

You know he wants to establish a relationship with her, but that can be done with boundaries. Anxiety getting the best of you, you grab your phone and shoot him a text. 

You: Is it okay if she calls you today? I know it’s been a lot, and if too much, just let me know. I’ll talk to her. 

His reply comes almost immediately this time around.

Joe: She can call me 100 times. I don’t care. I wanna talk to her.

And instantly, the anxiety is almost non-existent. Deep down, you know this is what he wants. He wants to have interaction with her, and incessant Facetime calls are the only option with his crazy schedule, so it’s what he takes. It’s what he wants. 

Pleased and no longer stressing over an issue that was never an issue, you lock your phone and place it back at your side. A quick glance at the clock reminds you that it’s almost time for Callie’s bath. 

A couple minutes later, your phone dings with a text notification. From Joe.

You open it right away. 

Joe: This weekend. Don’t tell her. I wanna surprise her. 

You have to read it a couple of times before it registers. He’s coming back in town. This weekend. As in less than two days. You’re excited at this, happy as well. For Callie. But also, for yourself. Why? You haven’t a clue, well, maybe there’s a slight clue, but you don’t want to acknowledge that right now. 

You simply want to focus on the fact that you’re happy your daughter will be happy her dad is town. 

Who cares that you will be too.

________

Joe’s just walked out the bathroom, having showered and almost entirely prepped for bed when his phone rings. 

Moving over to the hotel nightstand, he’s surprised when he sees Callie’s smiling face filling his screen. A glance at the clock in the corner of his phone reads 11:06, which means it’s 9:06 her time. Well past her bedtime. What is she doing up?

Curious, and regardless, he answers the phone. It takes a second for the connection to finalize when it does, he’s instantly smiling, mostly because it’s Callie but also because of her setup.

It’s obvious she’s under a blanket, a flashlight in the corner illuminating the space, a stuffed animal in her lap. 

She’s the first to speak, her voice both loud and hushed in a way only she can do. “hi!”

“Hi, sweetheart.” He can’t help but ask almost immediately, “what are you doing up?” As he told you, he’d talk to her 24/7 if he could. And even though this call is unexpected and appreciated, she’s also a 4-year-old kid who needs her sleep.

Her little shoulders lift in a shrug. “I can’t sleep.”

Nodding, he follows up with, “where’s mommy?” 

“Sleeping,” she answers with a level of disappointment. “I don’t wanna wake her up. She had a bad day.”

“Really?” Joe moves around so he’s laying on the bed, on his side, phone propped on the nightstand. “How do you know?”

“Cause–cause she was yelling at Mr. Amir, and–and he was yelling at her too.”

Joe hasn’t a clue why, but that instantly upsets him. Who the fuck is this Amir person, and who the hell does he think he is to raise his voice at you? Around Callie of all people.

“Who is Mr. Amir?” Joe hates asking her all of these questions, but it’s also hard not to. 

“The basketball coach at the school for big kids.” She’s caressing the fur of the stuffed animal in her lap. “Aunt Mariah said he was mommy’s boyfriend when she was a big kid.”

“Really.” It’s not really a question as much as it is a general statement. Joe doesn’t know why he’s suddenly annoyed, not with Callie, but the entire situation. And definitely this Amir person even more now. He’s an ex. He dated you. It shouldn’t make him feel any type of way, but it does, and he hates that shit. 

He hates a man he’s never even met.

“I don’t like Mr. Amir,” Callie suddenly announces with a scowl. Same, kid. Same. Joe looks at her, seeing so much of you in her right now. He knows you’ve mentioned how you see a lot of him in Callie, but when she’s glowering like this, she’s 100% her mama’s daughter. “He made mommy mad today.”

“Has he ever been mean to you?” Joe has to ask, because he’s also realizing a part of him is upset at the thought of Callie being around men. You’re a grown woman and allowed to do what you want, but bringing men around Callie….that’s an absolute fucking no. 

He doesn’t give a damn if he’s only been in her life for two weeks or two minutes. She’s his daughter, and outside of himself and family, who you date should be kept far away from his daughter.

Joe mentally prepares to have this conversation—potential argument—with you. 

“No,” she answers, slightly calmer. “He doesn’t like Disney.” She says it like it’s a sin, like it’s almost inconceivable for anyone to not like Disney.

Playing along with this, Joe gasps, grateful for the distraction that is Callie’s intricacies. “He sucks.”

“Yeah, he sucks,” she agrees, nodding. Joe has to keep his smile to himself. “Do you say bad words?”

The randomness and topic change take him by surprise, but he’s learning that you weren’t exaggerating when you said Callie was filled with incessant, unrelated questions. “Sometimes.” 

“Mommy does too,” she reveals. “Grandma says Jesus doesn’t want us to say bad words, but I heard grandma call Ms. Beverly from church a bitch.”

At that, Joe can’t help his laughter. Her delivery, the punctuation she puts on the word ‘bitch’, to how she seems to not even process that she’s just said a bad word. It’s hilarious. “Well, sometimes grown ups say things we shouldn’t, and you just make sure you’re not saying things you shouldn’t.” 

“Okay,” she agrees, almost sheepishly. And then, a yawn. “I’m sleepy.” 

Joe knew she was from the moment she called, but he had a feeling she just needed to get the whole Amir thing off her chest. She doesn’t seem like the child who likes to or even can hold things in, which is preferable. “You should try to go to sleep then, sweetheart.”

She wipes at her eyes, expression suddenly saddened. “When are you coming back? You’ve been gone a really long time.”

He’s torn in this moment, wanting to tell her that he’ll be there this weekend but also not wanting to get her hopes up in case something comes up. There’s few things that could come up to keep him from going to see her, wrestling be damned, but still. Life has a way of lifing. So, he goes with the safe yet disappointing answer.

“Soon, I promise.” She’s clearly indifferent to this answer and doesn’t say anything, instead shifts on her bed, moving to lay down. “You should really try to sleep, Callie.”

Eyes starting to blink, clearly her exhaustion catching up with her, she asks, softly, “will you stay with me till I fall asleep?”

Her request tugs at his heartstrings. “Of course, sweetie.” 

Seemingly pleased by this answer, she closes her eyes, and he watches. He stares at this tiny human whose existence he only learned about not even a month ago yet would do anything to make happy. Joe thinks about Callie constantly, finds himself smiling at the thought of some of the Snapchat videos you’d send him of her in all of her randomness. She was so entertaining, so full of life, a genuinely happy kid. His kid. 

And it’s why he’s going to find out more about this Amir guy and why Amir is having any type of interaction with his daughter. 

________

Joe: You should know she called me last night.

You’re in the middle of perusing early Black Friday deals, needing to budget for that now and taking full advantage of Callie being down for a nap. However, you frown, reading his message, not understanding why he’s stating the obvious. You were there when she asked for the iPad and when she returned it after the call was finished.

You: I’m aware….

Joe: No. After that. 

Your eyebrows arch together, confused.  

You: What? when?

Joe: It was 11 my time, so 9 yours.

You gasp, typing away, wondering how the hell she snuck in your room and managed a whole ass Facetime call without you hearing shit. Were you really that damn exhausted?

You: What the hell was she doing up at 9? What did she say?  No wonder she was crabby this morning. 

Joe: She said she couldn’t sleep.

You: A bad dream?

Joe: Naw, said you got into an argument with someone named Amir earlier that day and didn’t want to bother you….I think it was bothering her.

Your stomach twists at that. You had a feeling she’d overheard the incident with Amir, but you prayed that you were wrong. Clearly, you weren’t.

Joe: Who is Amir?

You pause at Joe’s question. Why is he asking this? What business of his is Amir? Irritation washes over you, but is waned by realizing he’s probably asking because of Callie. As her father, he has a right to know if you’re with someone, because for all he knows that someone could be around his daughter. 

You really are trying with this co-parenting thing.

You: A lot of things. A pain in the ass being the most recent one. 

You: We dated in high school and college on and off. He’s the basketball coach at our local high school. 

It’s more information than probably what’s necessary, but there’s this small, conflicting part of you that wants him to know you have no ties to Amir. That there are no feelings there and haven’t been for literal years. 

That you’re not with Amir.

Joe: Are you dating him again? Why were you arguing around Callie?

The interrogating is getting old, but you’re trying to play nice. Coparent peacefully. His delivery is off, but he has valid questions.

Sorta.

You: No. We just….we fuck around from time to time. He tries to make it more than what it is.  Was about that. 

You: I was waiting for her to be released from pre-school, and he picks up his nephew for his sister. It just happened, and I didn’t know/mean for her to hear.

Honestly, you’re more worried and concerned about Callie and how to approach this with her without making her feel like she was in trouble. Yes, she knows damn well she shouldn’t be on the iPad that late at night, but can you really be mad at her for talking to her dad about something that upset her?

Joe: You bring him around her?

You absolutely can be mad though at her dad who’s about to make you cuss him out next too. All of the questions are becoming too much. He gets to be concerned, but he doesn’t get to micromanage and invade. 

Feeling petty and recalcitrant, you type out a reply that you should probably think twice before sending.

But fuck it.

You: No. I only ride his dick at his place. 🙂 

There’s a small ounce of regret for being so crude, but not a whole lot. He knows how you are, or he should, at least.

To some extent.

But your phone rings again, and you find yourself staring mouth agape at his reply.

Joe: You may ride his dick, but you had my kid. Clearly, only one of us knows how to please you. 

Your face is burning hot, and you hate how you shift in your seat. Why the fuck would he say that? You want to say it’s inappropriate, but you also opened this door. 

Is he entirely wrong?

Slapping away that wild ass thought, you focus on the real conversation at hand here. It takes a couple of rewrites before you ultimately decide to change the subject. 

You: I’ve never bought any man around her and never will that’s not you, if that’s what you’re asking. 

You’re grateful to see he’s also agreeing to change the subject.

Joe: It is. Thank you.

Rolling your eyes, you send a text back, getting back to being annoyed at his 21 Questions. This is a two-way street, and since he’s opened this door, why not?

You: You know that goes both ways though. I don’t want her around any bitches.

Joe: Seriously? 

Joe: There’s no one for me to bring her around. 

You…..you don’t know how to feel about that, don’t know how to feel about the bit of relief you feel at this message. Why should you feel relieved? Even if there was, that’s his business, and he’s allowed to….do whatever it is that he does.

It reminds you and brings you to your next topic. 

You: What about your wife? We need to figure that out as well. She’s eventually going to need to know about Calista and will probably be around her at some point. I get she’s your wife, but I’m Callie’s mother, I need to be there whenever you wanna introduce Callie. I need to be involved in that process as well.

He doesn’t reply. 

________

Joe doesn’t really get mad. 

Not often at least and definitely not outwardly. 

It’s always been his thing to never let anyone have access to that “button” that triggers his anger, and for the most part, it works well. 

Except for when it comes to you.

You’ve always been able to trigger many things for him, anger being one of them.

He knows he should have spoken to you in person about the situation, or even over the phone. But with the craziness of his schedule and differing time zones, he just decided to message you, and while it didn’t go horribly, it didn’t go great. He knows you’re annoyed with him.

Hence your crudity. 

Joe also refuses to admit that the thought of you fucking this kid pisses him the fuck off, even though you’re not together, even though he has no right to be upset. 

But goddamn that doesn’t make him any less upset or annoyed at the thought of someone else touching you.

“Uce?” Jon asks, standing at the door before inventing himself in Joe’s locker room for this week’s Smackdown. “You ready to talk man?”

At that, Joe looks confused. “Talk about what?”

“Whatever it is that got you all worked up.” The twins have always been very perceptive, even back when they were all kids. Joe might be good at hiding his frustration from others but not them. The difference between Jon and Josh though has always been Josh has the wherewithal to not say anything. 

Jon hasn’t caught on to that just yet. 

“I’m fine,” Joe dismisses, hoping it’s enough to dead the conversation, even though he knows better. 

“Lie detector determined that was a goddamn lie.” Jon can be pushy, but he means well, and truthfully, Joe doesn’t have a strong desire to outright shut down this conversation. A different perspective is always beneficial. 

Usually. 

So, he explains it all, starting with his call with Callie and ending with the text exchange between him and you.

“I see,” Jon nods, clearly absorbing all of this information. Finally, he concludes, “so you’re jealous.”

That’s the first thing to evoke a genuine laugh out of Joe since his exchange with Y/N. “I’m not jealous.”

“And I’m not a twin,” Jon dismisses. “Look, Uce, it’s obvious you still got feelings for ole girl. You ask me, I don’t think you ever got over her—”

“I didn’t ask you.” 

“--Now you sitting up here annoyed cause she fucking Coach Carter nephew instead of doing something about it.” Joe rolls his eyes. “I mean have you even told her about you and J—”

“No,” he interrupts, swiftly. “Not yet, at least.”

Nodding, Jon speaks again after a minute of silence. “All I’m saying is ya’ll got the history, got the connection, got the kid too! Don’t see why you need to be letting Jesus Shuttlesworth steal your girl.”

At that, Joe chuckles. One thing his cousins will always be good for, especially Jon, is comedic relief. Even some sound advice from time to time.

“Thanks.”

Joe is, surprisingly, thankful for the equally surprising advice from his cousin. He’s not entirely sure if he’s really jealous or just overreacting for a reason he hasn’t quite uncovered, but he is starting to lean more on the side of he does still have some level of feelings for Y/N. 

It’s not a complete shock. He had a feeling when he reacted so strongly to just seeing your picture. It was the whole Callie situation and finding out how you kept her from him that made his vision murky. 

But, as his relationship with her strengthens, the clearer he can see. 

The clearer his feelings are becoming. Now. it’s just a matter of figuring out what to do with said feelings.

And find out where you stand as well. 

Joe remains quiet, thinking more and more how this might end up being an eventful trip.

[fantasyandshit]

Replaced part two

Omg I’m so upset- it won’t let me tag like anyone with dashes in their name at allll soooo if you commented on that post I am so so so sorry I couldn’t tag you guys

Type: one shot turned more

Part: 2/2

Part 1 here

Masterlist here

Pairing: Azriel x reader/ mystery character x reader

Seriously guys thank you so much- I’m so glad that the first part had so much love and I hope this one is just as good.

“So, what did you need my love?” I lean down to kiss my fiancés temple. He’s stressed, I can tell. His fingers tap away in rhythm with his foot. “Baby- what’s going on? Why are you so stressed?” My hands run down the length of his arms in a soothing motion. “How can I help you?”

The new high lord of autumn’s head meets my shoulder, a small smile gracing his lips. His head raises till his lips meet mine in a soft kiss. “Baby I need you to sit down.” His smile disappears as soon as it came and I frown, moving to the seat on the other side of his desk. I raise my brows expectantly as his hands move to reach mine. “Love- we have a high lords meeting in two weeks time. They have requested it be held here in order to see how I’m handling the court now.”

“Ok? And?”

“Darling I want to introduce you as the new high lady of Autumn. I want you come along.” He sighs, “it means you will have to see all of them again.”

The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. I breath for a moment, thinking about it, it’s been nearly five years since I left, the last time I saw any of them was the battle with Hybern, and even then Eris kept me mostly away from them so that I wasn’t distracted. “I’ll go.”

“Are you sure darling?”

“Very. I want them to see me as the high lady of autumn. Not the girl that left all that time ago.”

He smirks his signature smirk, pride filling his eyes. “Very well. Shall we begin planning?”

———

Everyone has finally arrived- or what is usually everyone, confusion sets in as Eris seems to sit in waiting, an empty chair beside him at the head of the table. “Are we waiting for someone Eris?”

“Yes actually. Shell be here any moment, she likes making an entrance.” Something bothers Azriel with the way the high lord smirks. He didn’t know who was going to walk through that door but he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like it.

The door swings open, a woman stepping through, decked in a gorgeous burnt orange dress, green and gold accents around her body, a golden crown, one looking like leaves woven together rests on her head. As her eyes catch Eris’ she smiles. “Sorry I’m late. Hope you haven’t started without me.” She surveys the room before stepping towards the empty seat. Eris stands, going to pull it out with one hand and take hers on his other. The pause for a moment, facing the table together.

“Everyone. I’d like you to meet my fiance and the high lady of the Autumn court. Some of you may already know her.”

As the female turns to kiss Eris, it clicks for Azriel. “Yn.” He can’t help but gasps and that is when it finally hits the inner circle of the night court.

“Hello guys. Long time no see.”

Cassian speaks this time, his brows furrowed and mouth agape, “you- your with him? Your the high the high lady?”

“Yes, in fact our wedding is next month. I am terribly excited. Especially after being named the high lady of Autumn.” She and Eris sit finally, hands staying tied together

An agony Azriel has never felt tears through him as he stares at his mate. She looks back to him as he gasps, clenching his chest wildly.

“Azriel. I’d like to get through my first meeting as high lady. So if you could stop…flailing. That would be preferred.” Yn clears her throat before turning to the others at the table. “I’ve seen some things. I see Koshei. I thought we took care of our issues with him, however I-“

The meeting continues, the night court still trying to process the news. After the meeting is finished, the high lords are given a walk through of the new Autumn court. “Yn. Yn can we speak please.” It was towards the end of the tour, courts had been led to where they’d be staying, only the inner circle trailed behind, minus Morrigan and Cassian who had been dropped off to their respective rooms.

I choose to ignore the shadowsinger, instead stopping at the next door and turn back to Rhysand and Feyre, “You two will be staying here. This castle works much like the house of wind. It will cater to you, we do tend keep things much warmer here for obvious reasons so if you are uncomfortable with the temperature just say the word and it will be brought down by the house.”

“Goodnight Yn.” I nod before turning back to lead the final male to where he’d be staying, Eris never leaving my side. We barely make it three steps down the hall before I feel Rhsyand pry at my mental walls.

‘What do you want Rhysand.’

‘You should talk to him Yn. He’s been devastated since you left and see you with Eris killed him I-‘

I shut it down. I don’t want to hear some sob story from my mate who didn’t even want me till I was gone. “You will be staying here Azriel. What I said to Rhysand and Feyre goes the same for you.”

Me and Eris turn to leave before I’m grabbed by the arm. “Wait. Yn can we please just talk.”

Eris growls. “Get your filthy hands off my fucking finance.”

The shadowsinger seems to get just as upset, opening his mouth to speak before I rip my arm from his grasp and turn, a glare resting on my features.

“Don’t you fucking dare! You have no right- no fucking right to get angry at my fiancée! Do you understand, you didn’t want me and I don’t fucking want you so go wallow in your self pity but stay the hell away from me!” Eris rubs soothing circles on my arm, a glare that could kill sent towards the shadowsinger as he grabs me, winnowing us to our room.

—————

Sooo I hope this lives up to your guys’ expectations!

[maedae-maedae]

Can't Help It - Library Date

☆ Okkotsu Yuuta x F!Reader

☆ Genre: Smut

☆ Warnings: NSFW 18+

☆ Contents: Aged-Up Characters, Established Relationship, Semi-Public/Public Sex, Needy!Yuuta, Sub?Yuuta, AU - University Students, Clothed Sex, Oral Sex, Breeding Kink?

☆ Word Count: 3.6k

☆ Summary: You meet up with your boyfriend, ready to have a study date at your university's library and really get down to business. The two of you need to go to the library to actually study, and you both know well enough to take it seriously. Today you come wearing a new outfit... and suddenly your boyfriend has other plans for the two of you.

☆ A/N: Randomly awakening from my disappearance to post this smut which- I am just now realizing is my first real full-out smut! That I'm posting, that is.

This idea came to me as I was writing actually another fic for Yuuta so expect that real soon, much more stretched out than this lil one shot. Anyways, enjoy!

It’s late morning by the time you meet your boyfriend Yuta Okkatsu at your university’s library. The place is huge, and would literally be impossible to find books from if you didn’t have the power of technology. You’re searching the section with the books required by the class you share with Yuta. You guys decided on not giving into the scam of buying textbooks, opting to use the library’s plentiful supply of books that no one uses these days anyways. You’re reaching up to grab another suggested reading as Yuta stands behind you, holding the big one you’d handed to him when you first got here.

He’s a little embarrassed right now, hot and beginning to sweat. And he’s surprised you haven’t noticed yet. Ever since he met you in front of the library earlier, he’s been sporting a full boner. All thanks to the new outfit you had on. It’s adorable, and your boyfriend absolutely loves the way it hugs your body. Maybe a little too much, unable to pry his eyes away from the curve of your ass as the skirt lifts up with your reach. He glances around to make sure no one else is around to see this view and then continues to stare.

You were so excited to show him this outfit today too, and he couldn’t even properly compliment you with how flustered it was making him. Plus, you probably wouldn’t want him to be immediately sexualizing you in it either, so what is he thinking? Still, he can’t help it. How badly he wants to have his hands all over you right now.

“Okay! Got it!” You say happily as you pull the book off its shelf. “That’s it, I think. There’s not anything else you wanna grab, is there? I mean honestly, three is already enough I don’t know if I can handle more than this.”

You look up at Yuta and he shakes his head to answer you. But somethings off about him.

“Is something wrong?” You ask and he’s honestly relieved you finally notice. He takes a step toward you, then another until he’s right in front of you. His eyes avoid yours out of embarrassment for a moment, but then he looks at you straight on.

“Let’s go home.” He says, taking your hand in his own as he does.

“Huh? But we said we would study together today.” You reply, confused on why he suddenly wants to change plans.

“Let’s just study at your place” He suggests, pouting. You raise an eyebrow at him and give him a knowing look.

“Yu.. you know if we go to ‘study’ at my place, there wont be any studying happening.” You tell him and playfully poke his stomach. He was hoping you’d just understand without him having to explain himself, but looks like he’ll have to show you instead.

“Cmon, let’s go find a-“ You begin as you turn, but stop mid sentence when you feel your boyfriends embrace from behind. He wraps his arms around your middle, book still in one of his hands. He nuzzles into your neck.

“Hey.. what’s up with you tod-“ You don’t need to ask any further when he finally presses his full body to you, and you feel it. His hard cock rests against your ass, straining through his pants. A hot flash hits you, suddenly feeling his neediness like it’s contagious.

“Ah.. I get it now.” You say calmly, placing a hand on his at your stomach and using the other to stroke his hair a couple times. “Needy boy~” You coo at him. He twitches against you, to your amusement.

“You look so good today.. I can’t help it.” He whines into your ear, just barely audible. He’s so sweet, what are you gonna do with this boy?

“Hmm.. I guess we can’t really study until you’re good, huh?” You say, mostly to yourself, as you quickly think of somewhere nearby that would be most likely to not get you caught.

“Cmere.” You tell him, taking his hand and leading him along with you.

You walk with him until you reach a little nook of the library, empty and seemingly not visited very much. Your friend actually told you about this part of the library, after having a hook-up here. She always has crazy stories of where shes done stuff, and you’re pretty sure at this point it’s definitely a kink for her. You always thought it was crazy, and you never thought you’d find yourself following in her footsteps. You’ll have to thank her later you guess. And pray she wasn’t lying.

“H-here?” Your boyfriend whispers as you glance around cautiously. You look at him curiously.

“You don’t want to? We can always wait till later if you-“ before you can even finish your suggestion, he’s shaking his head to answer.

“That bad, hm?” You say and lean your back against the shelf behind you, signaling him with your hand to come to you. He does and you caress his chest, down to his stomach and pelvis, massaging little circles there as you continue to look around a bit more. You love the way he reacts to your touch, fidgety and sensitive. His forehead rests against yours as you with his hands resting comfortably on your hips.

“We should be safe here, no one ever comes to this section and none of the cctv cameras can see.” You reassure him and you look back at him again.

“How do you know that-“ He goes to ask but knows the answer as soon as you give him a look. He knows about that friend of yours, from your stories. “Oh. Nevermind.”

Your hands finally move to start caressing the bulge in his pants, and he takes a startled inhale, immediately pushing his face into your neck again. He likes to do that a lot when you two get intimate, it made him feel like he’s closer. And he loves being able to smell you. God forbid he ever smelled your perfume while he’s out on his own, he’d be turned on immediately.

“You really worked yourself up, huh? You’re extra sensitive today.” You whisper to him as you listen to the little noises he’s been making as you continue to massage him through his pants.

“It’s the skirt you bought..” he pushes out to explain himself.

“…Too short?” You ask, a self conscious thought you had before buying it popping up in your mind and then leaving your mouth without needing too. Plus, boyfriends don’t usually want their girlfriends wearing super revealing clothing, right? Maybe it made him uncomfortable.

“No.. I love it so much. You look so good in it. Wear it all the time.” He reassures you desperately, laying your insecurities to rest immediately. You giggle and you don’t know why you were even nervous.

“Clearly I don’t think that’s a good idea, unless we wanna be like my friend and start testing our luck everywhere we go.” You joke, and he laughs lightly in your ear. A shiver tickles your spine.

“Okay, love. What do you want me to do for you? Just tell me.“ You prompt for him. You want to be able to satisfy him in whatever way he feels he needs you right now.

“Mm.. Nothing, jus wanna feel you..” He mumbles as his hands start to move from your waist and caress around all the curves of your body. He stops to grab at your ass when he gets there, and you can feel his neediness with the way his hips make slight jerks forward. Usually he’s always taken a liking to your breasts, but it must really be something about your skirt today driving him crazy. You don’t think you’ve seen him like this.

While he caresses you with his warm hands that you adore feeling on you like this, he starts to kiss your neck too. You let out very faint moans as he does, feeling extra sensitive too now for some reason. You can just feel how badly he wants you and that alone is driving you crazy.

"Yu.." you call out quietly as he's busy leaving you with another hickey. "Shouldn't we make this quick? Not that I don’t love it, but…"

You tell him this partially because you are a bit anxious about getting caught suddenly, but also because you’re really desperate to have him inside you already. You can feel the wetness between your legs getting out of control. He pulls back to look you in the eyes, and you were not expecting him to look as lustful as he does right now. That’s a dangerous look he’s giving you.

“I’m gonna eat you out.. is that okay?” He tells you, almost breathless, and you could moan just hearing him say that. You love when he goes down on you. It feels like heaven every time and you love looking at his eyes when his tongue is deep inside you. Despite this, you’re still a bit unsure.

“Yu.. this is kinda risky, don’t you think we should-“

“Please?” He begs and you know you could never say no to what he’s asking of you right now. This is literally a situation straight out of a wet dream.

“Okay.. but-“ before you can even tell him to be quick, he pushes his lips to yours with excitement. Your tongues entwine and you feel his fingers come down to rub at your slit. He can feel how wet you are now, and it only makes him kiss you harder, more desperate. You have to grab his shoulders when he’s suddenly slipping three fingers into you at once. He swallows your moans that would definitely had been much too loud otherwise. He pumps into you a few times before pulling out, leaving you feeling empty, needy. You need him inside you again. You whine at his absence as he pulls back from your kiss as well. You’re about to pout at him before you end up watching him put his own fingers in his mouth, getting a taste of you before the full meal. Your face goes red.

“I’ll make you cum quick, promise.” He tells you softly, making butterflies in your stomach as you watch him immediately sink down to his knees. You know he’s being serious about that too, and you’re a bit nervous.

You’re stood right next to where the wall ends and turns the corner, so you peak your head out to make sure no one’s around. There’s nobody, and you cant believe people really never come to this section. Honestly it would be a cute place to sit and read normally.

“Look at me.” Your boyfriend tells you and your attention snaps back to him. He’s already slipped your panties down and you lift your skirt up slightly for him so it’s not in his face as he goes to kiss your clit.

You let out hushed moans as his tongue starts working, circling your clit and playing with you there for a while. Your face must be dark with both the way he’s making you feel and the way he’s looking at you. God that eye contact will get you everytime. His intense sanpaku stare never once looking away from you, taking in every reaction he gets out of you. It’s like he studies you, analyzing what’s making you feel the best, making sure he’s doing a good job. You cant believe how into this he is too, you didn’t think this would be his thing, but he clearly loves it. You never thought when you met this sweet boy that he would be so kinky.

Right now he’s really keeping his word on making it quick, hitting all the right motions he’s already memorized from how many times he’s pleasured you like this. He knows exactly what you like. Normally, he’ll stretch it out anyways, loving getting to have you this way for as long as possible. Seeing all the cute faces you make. Even making you climax on his face multiple times.

His favorite is when you’re about to cum, just like you are now. Your hands are in his hair, pulling at him as if you want him to stop, can’t take it anymore.

“Yuta.. s’too much..” you whisper to him like you do in some variation everytime. Then your thighs start clenching on him, shaking. Your breathing gets quicker. Your hands can’t even muster the energy to pull him anymore, clenching and unclenching fists in his hair. The only thing he doesn’t like about this part is that he can’t talk you through it like he likes to. He wants more than anything in this moment to tell you “You're doing so good, beautiful. Ride it out. I got you.” As your back arches and your body tenses up. But he’s got to stay focused to make sure you feel as good as possible.

He watches you with your mouth covered, head pushed against the bookcase behind you. His hands come up to support your now trembling legs as you start to come down from your high. He thinks he could never get tired of doing this specifically for you.

He lets you breathe for a few moments before standing again. He presses his forehead to yours as you look up at him with those pleasure-riden eyes.

“Y/n…” he says to you softly and you nod. “Sorry but, turn around. Please. Need to fuck you so bad.”

If your cheeks could blush any darker they would. You really love when he’s like this. You do as he says and turn around, his buldge already pressing at your ass as you feel him struggle to get his pants undone. When he does, he wastes no time in rubbing his raw shaft along your extremely wet folds. You shiver and manage to hold in any sound from coming out.

“Ah! H-hold on!” You tell him right before it feels like he’s about to press into you. You cant believe you didn’t think of this. You reach over for your purse and Yuta impatiently continues to rub against you. Looking for the condom in your bag as best you can, it’s not too long before you find it and pull it out. You knew having emergency ones in there would come in handy.

“Here. Put this on at least.” You say, handing it back to him.

He looks confused for a moment, and you know why. The two of you have been fucking raw for a while now. Which, in hindsight is not the best habit to have gotten into. But you suppose that was your risky kink, both of yours.

“Yu, we’re gonna make a mess if we don’t use it.” You reason with him, already hearing the protests probably circling in his head. You hear him whine just slightly, but he takes it. He knows you’re right.

As he’s putting it on you start to worry about yourself and getting caught again. You’ve never exactly been very quiet, and neither has he. At all.

“Try to go slow please.. I’m not sure how well I can keep my voice down if you’re not careful.” You whisper to him, bracing yourself against the bookshelf. You feel Yuta’s hand caress up and around your hips, his face moving up right to your ear.

“You’re right.. if we get caught we might get banned from the library. And then we’d have to study at your place from now on… what a shame that’d be.. right?” He says with a dark tone, and you know exactly what he’s implying. Horny asshole. There’s no way he’s serious.

“I think the penalty would be a lot worse than tha-AT!” You go to warn him but loose control of your voice when he shoves almost his entire length into you at once. Specifically doing the OPPOSITE of what you just asked.

“Yuta!!” You hiss, slapping his shoulder with the back of your hand before he starts moving. “What’d I just tell you?!”

He breaths a silent laugh into your neck “Sorry.. love you.” He says and places a few kisses along your neck and shoulder. You sigh at this and you know you can’t stay mad. Still, that was a surprise as he’s usually very obedient to you with requests like that.

“You’re taking me so good, though.” He adds, pressing a kiss to your cheek as well. You feel him slide in a little more and you both let out shallow breaths. You feel so close to him like this, his body pressed against you, pinning you to the bookcase with nowhere to go. His hands find yours and intertwine, letting you know he’s got you, he’s with you.

Your warmth felt so good around him like this, he didn’t even want to move. But just like before, he knows he’s gotta be quick here. This is what he was begging for and you so graciously allowed him to have. His thrusts go slow the way you asked of him, only picking up pace when he feels the need. The sound of your soft almost-silent moans and the squelching of his cock pumping in and out of you, filling the silence of the corner the two of you have to yourself. He groans and whines quietly into your back as his pace speeds up again, trying harder not to make noise with his motions more than with his mouth.

“Thank you.. fuck, I love you.” He tells you, breathlessly, mindlessly.

“Yuuta.. Ah!” You moan his name, just a little louder than you have been. His hand comes to cover your mouth, but it’s gentle. You know he’s just helping, knowing it’s hard for you to keep quiet like this. He keeps letting praises and curses fall from his mouth like mumbling, fucking into you with as much care as he can. Wanting to make you feel so good but not alert anyone to this private moment, just for the two of you. His hand can barely keep against your mouth, his focus elsewhere. You can hear his labored breathing and small moans that slip out right against your ear, making your hand stand and every part of you feeling sensitive.

“I’m gonna.. ahh.. gonna cum, Yu.” You tell him softly, your mind fogging. You look down below you and the sight is so incredibly lewd, like something you’d find on a nsfw blog. Your panties soaked on the floor beneath you, your feet basically on top of his the way you’re lifted up on your toes.

“Fuck, Please. Cum for me, love. Wanna feel it..” He pleads, fucking you harder now, the sounds getting a bit too loud. “I love you so much. Please. Please, please.”

There’s no way you could hold back your climax if you wanted to with the way he’s begging you like this. Your body complies, as if obedient to him of its own will. Your high ripples through you and you have to slap your hand on top of his to really keep quiet for this.

He doesn’t slow even on your comedown, continuing to fuck your aching hole. Your hands muffle the moans thatd normally be full-on wails if the two of you were home right now.

“Kiss me.” He tells you, his face next to yours already. You both let go and you press you lips to his again. He does his best to help drown out your sounds as he reaches his own high.

“Cumming.. fuck I’m gonna cum.” He whines against your lips, unable to focus on anything else anymore.

“Feels so good Yu.. cum inside me, please.” You plead for him, knowing it makes him feel even better when you praise him.

“I love you.” You finally tell him earnestly, and he echoes it back to you so breathlessly that you could barely make it out.

He thrusts into you one last time, spilling his seed into the condom that he wishes wasn’t there. He wants you to feel him finishing inside you, he’d become addicted to it.

Still, he basks in the way you twitch and squirm against him as he keeps his dick stuffed deep inside you, pressing against your cervix wall.

“Yu..” You whine, knowing he knows what he’s doing. He just wanted to enjoy it a moment longer, that’s all. When he pulls out of you, the both of you gasp a little, breaths heavy and shaking.

At the beginning of this, when you offered to do it in the library, you had not thought it’d be intense like this, and you definitely didn’t consider how your legs would feel afterward. They are shaking and you’re praying Yuta can’t tell because he will most definitely tease you about it. His arms wrap around you as he embraces you one more time.

“After studying, later I’m gonna cum inside you, okay?” He tells you sweetly, like it’s not the totally vulgar sentence that just left his mouth. You scoff in disbelief.

“Are you serious?” You say with amused exasperation.

“We had to use the condom..” He pouts, looking up at you from shoulder level. “I want to give you a creampie like I usually do.”

Good lord, what have you turned this man into?

“Alright, alright.” You tell him, rolling your eyes with a smile. “But only if you actually study with me now. Cmon, put this away.” He flinches when you poke his now half-hard dick, but does as you say anyways.

This is good, now he has some real motivation to work. He studies with you that day harder than he’s probably ever studied in his whole life.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

Obligation [Joel x f!reader]

Read on Ao3

Fandom: The Last of Us

Ship: Joel Miller x you/f!reader who is 52.

Tags/warnings: Throwing up, unplanned pregnancy, angst, Joel doesn't take it well but is soft, implied abortion.

Summary: You've been fucking Joel Miller for a couple of months when you realize that you're pregnant - which you didn't think possible because you thought you were post-menopausal. How does one get an abortion in Jackson - and how are you going to tell Joel?

Words: 4,267

A/N: For all my old gals out there, as well as those who don't want kids.

My masterlist

I think I may be pregnant.

The realization reverberates through you, bringing with it another wave of nausea. You barely have time to stick your head down the toilet before you throw up. The acrid taste of bile fills your mouth and nose, and tears stream down your cheeks. You grip the toilet seat as you continue retching, your stomach hellbent on emptying itself.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Fuck. Shit. No. No, no, no, no, no, how can this be?

What an idiot question. You almost laugh at yourself in the midst of this misery. How does one become pregnant? Well, fucking someone like Joel Miller on a regular basis is a good start. He fucks you deep and good, the bed and his body creaking in unison as he has you pinned underneath him, his broad, heavy body a welcome weight on you, his cock balls deep inside your wet cunt when he finishes and leaves you full even after he's pulled out. His thick, creamy cum dripping out of you when you fall into blissful sleep, sometimes with him staying over.

You know how babies are made, for God's sake. You just didn't count on you still being able to make them. You're past 50,  and your period stopped years ago. This is new to you, you’ve never been pregnant before or even had an interest in trying, but you’re not stupid. You’ve been feeling tired lately, out of sorts, a dull nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach like just before your period, and last night when Joel grabbed your breasts, you almost punched him. Even now they’re so sore even the weight of them hurts.

And now this. Morning sickness. You haven’t eaten anything strange, you were okay last night, and paired up with everything else that has been going on… you must be pregnant.

Thank God Joel isn’t here, you think dimly. He didn't stay over last night, quoting an early morning today to go on patrol. You didn't mind. What you have together is casual, and you're not the one who needs to be cuddled – or coddled, for that matter. You like it when he stays over, but don’t care if he doesn’t. It has worked out well for a few months now.

And now this. You draw a quivering breath, and slump against the wall. It seems like your stomach has settled, so after a couple of minutes, you carefully stand up and bend over the sink, rinsing out your mouth with cold water before splashing some in your face. Straightening your back, you meet your tired gaze in the small mirror above the sink. There is nothing different there, except a lack of energy, but nothing that could reveal the fact that you are carrying a growing clump of cells in your belly.

The thought makes you nauseous again, and you step back to the toilet, expecting to be sick, but there is nothing else to expel, so you flush the toilet, and slowly make your way to the kitchen. Despite being sick, or because of it, you’re hungry, so you take out what provisions you have, and sit down at the table. You usually take your meals in the dining hall, but you don’t want to show yourself right now. God knows what will happen if anyone asks you how you are. And what if you eat, and then throw up again?

Slowly, you gnaw away at a slice of bread with cheese on it, while trying to get yourself together and think over your options. But no matter how you try to think about it, there are no options except one: you have to get rid of it. The reasons are many, but the two most pressing ones are the simple fact that you have never wanted children, and this is not a world into which children should be born, as far as you’re concerned. The more you think about it, the more certain you are. But how in the hell are you going to get an abortion? And while you may not be shy, how the actual fuck are you going to tell the doc that you, a 52-year-old woman, didn’t think to protect yourself? Or that you know your own body so badly that you didn’t even know that you’re, in fact, not post-menopausal?

You stopped crying years ago because tears have no function in this world, but now your humiliation makes your tears well up. You sniffle wetly, put down the piece of bread, and angrily wipe at your eyes.

“Fuck,” you mutter, but there is no stopping the tears. When the first one runs down your cheek, you bang your fist to the table and scream.

“FUCK!”

You let the tears fall, confident that there won’t be too many. When you’re done crying, you finish your meagre breakfast, wipe your face, and get dressed. A day of work awaits you, and maybe if you work hard enough…

You shudder at the thought. You may not have any experience in this department, but you know that your age is a liability. Things could go wrong, and you could die. You don’t want to die. You didn’t survive for all these years just to get taken out by a goddamn unwanted pregnancy.

Fortified by your sheer will to live, you open the front door, and get to work.

During your lunch break, you slip into the Jackson library, which is only just one room in the schoolhouse. The collection consists of whatever has been found during raids, as well as works that the residents have brought with them. The stacks are neat, though, thanks to the teacher who also doubles as a librarian. The collection is divided into main classes, and you quickly find the small section for Biology. There is a middle school book with a chapter on human reproduction, but that’s just the basics. You check the Medicine section, finding nothing. You leave the library, mentally chiding yourself for thinking that you’d find anything there to help you deal with the fact that you’re geriatric, pregnant, and in need of an abortion, with no hope of having one because there are no hospitals, only one doctor who operates out of a simple cabin with barely any equipment or drugs.

Anxiety rises in you again, bringing bile with it. You slink in behind the nearest house and bend over. What little breakfast you had lands before your feet, and you spit away the taste.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What the fuck am I going to do?

You take a steadying breath before reappearing back on the street, aiming for your house. So purposeful are you to get away from people, that you don’t notice the tall man next to you before he puts his hand on your arm.

“Hey.”

You start, jerking back before you recognize Joel’s frowning face.

“Sorry,” he apologizes immediately. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nod, casting your eyes down as you continue your walk. “Just didn’t see you there.”

“Going to lunch?”

“I already ate.”

“All right.” His hand is on your arm again, now effectively stopping you in the middle of the street. He stands in front of you, broad, tall, and smelling of horses.

“You sure you’re okay?” His voice is lower now, so as to not have anyone overhear him. “You look a little pale.”

Joel Miller has been nothing but good to you. He doesn’t talk much, and what little he talks, happens in the darkness after you’ve fucked, when there are no barriers left between the two of you. He keeps to himself, to the girl who was with him when he arrived, to his brother. To you, now. You may not be able to make him laugh as Ellie does, but he saves soft smiles for you. He’s loyal, kind, and helpful. And despite all that, you’re going to lie to him.

“I didn’t sleep well.” You look into his eyes, even giving him the ghost of a smile. “You wore me out, but I still couldn’t sleep.”

His face softens visibly, a smile playing in the corner of his mouth as he leans in and whispers: “I’m sorry, darling. Just have to try harder next time.”

Something flutters in the pit of your stomach, but it doesn’t translate to the usual heaviness between your legs. Instead, you just feel sick for having lied to him.

Joel’s hand travels down your arm to your hand, thick fingers quickly squeezing years before letting go.

“See you later?”

You hear the question, know what it means.

“I think I better get a good night’s sleep?”

Joel flashes a sympathetic grin. “Good idea. See you around.”

You watch him stride towards the dining hall, broad back squared, head held high in constant vigilance, even here within the walls of Jackson.

He’ll figure it out eventually. He’s smart. He’ll know something’s up.

You shake your head to get rid of those unwanted thoughts, and then you return to work.

The next morning starts the same way the previous one did: with your head down the toilet bowl. This time you feel even more sick because you didn’t get much sleep, and when you finally emerge out of your house, you run into Joel, who’s halfway up your porch.

“Morning,” he greets you, then stops as he sees your ashen face. “What’s wrong?”

“I think I’m coming down with something,” you shrug, stacking another lie upon the previous one.

“Maybe you should stay home, get some rest,” he suggests, and even if he’s wearing his customary frown, you can hear how his voice is laced with concern. Managing a smile, you brush your arm against his.

“I’ll just get antsy. I’ll take it easy today, I promise.”

He’s happy with that and doesn’t question you when you don’t go to communal breakfast.

For the next few days, you do what you can to avoid Joel. You don’t want him to know that you’re sick in the mornings, don’t want him to touch you and find out how tender your breasts are, don’t want to talk to him or even see him because it only reminds you of the solution you inevitably have to find soon. You’re going to have to come clean to the doc at the very least –  unless you try to deal with the situation by yourself somehow. But you have no idea how to do that without hurting yourself, and that’s the last thing you want to do.

Finally, it’s Joel who takes the first step. You have declined his visits for a week when he surprises you by knocking on your door one night. His face is backlit by the porch light that creates a halo around his ragged, curl-prone hair.

“Can I come in?”

“I’m tired,” you mumble, but he speaks your name, and you realize that there is no running away anymore. So, you step to the side to let him in.

He stands before you, arms crossed over his broad chest as he stares at the floor between the two of you. You can’t look at him, so you stare at the same spot. There’s dirt from his boots there, but you don’t care.

“Listen, I…” he starts, clearing his throat. “I know nothing’s been explicitly said here. About us, I mean. It is what it is. But I thought we had a good thing going, and now it seems like you don’t want anything to do with me anymore?”

Your stomach drops, and for a moment you fear that you’ll throw up your dinner as well as you did your breakfast.

“Joel…”

“I just want to know if I did something wrong, so that I can apologize and then leave you be.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” you tell him quietly, wrapping your arms around yourself to prevent the slight trembling that’s starting to travel through your body. Your nerves are shot, and you press your lips together to keep your teeth from chattering.

“Then what is it?” Now he’s looking at you. You can feel his eyes burn into you.

Does he have to sound so fucking gentle? It would be easier if he yelled at you, or stormed out, or hadn’t come at all, but you should have known that Joel Miller would be so fucking gentle about it.

You take a deep breath, then finally look up into his eyes.

“I’m pregnant.”

Joel stares at you, his face blank. There is just nothing there for several breaths before his brows rise and his arms fall to his sides.

“You’re what?”

“You heard me.”

He still looks at you like he doesn’t understand.

“But… how is that possible?”

You lean your head to one side and give him a come on kind of look. Joel scoffs, scratches his head, then shakes it.

“Aren’t you too old?”

“That’s what I thought.”

“You didn’t know?”

You don’t like the hint of accusation in his voice.

“I’m sorry I haven’t seen my healthcare provider in a while!” you snap, now irritated. The change in tone causes in a change in Joel as well.

“If you weren’t sure, then why the hell weren’t you more careful?”

“So it’s my fault?” Your voice is now raised, and your hands come to your hips. “You took one look at me and thought, ‘Oh, this old hag surely has no eggs left’, and then you happily stuck your dick in me, to hell with any other consequences?”

“You should’ve said something!” he growls, now visibly upset. If you weren’t so intimately familiar with just how soft he could be, you’d be afraid of his dark storm cloud demeanor. But you’re not afraid: you’re pissed off.

“I didn’t know,” you articulate. “I haven’t had my period in years, and I’m over fifty! How the fuck could I have known that I could get fucking pregnant!”

“Is it even mine?” Joel retorts, and for some reason, that’s what makes you snap. Before you know it, your palm has connected with his cheek, and you’re pointing at the door.

“Get out. Get the fuck out, now!”

You don’t need to tell him twice: the door slams only a moment after. You’re no longer feeling nauseous, or trembling. You’re just empty inside.

He's back the next morning. You did not expect that, and eye him with apprehension where he stands in the doorway, shame etched into his features.

"Can I please come in?" he asks quietly. You're nauseous again, but you don't want to be a bitch. He's a good one, you know that, despite everything. He deserves a chance.

You let him in, gesture for him to go on through to the kitchen. Following him, you swallow down the nausea, and hope that you won't have to throw up. It would be so humiliating.

Sitting down, you nod to him to do the same. He perches uncomfortably on the edge of his seat, sincere gaze searching for eye contact.

"I'm really sorry," he finally says, his voice low but earnest. "I handled myself poorly."

You give him a Ya think? look but say nothing. He gets the message.

"I didn't expect... or think..." He falls silent, looks down at the scratched surface of the table. You stare him down relentlessly, waiting for him to speak on. He's slowly rubbing the knuckles of his right hand, like they're itchy or in pain.

"I had a daughter, a long time ago. She... I lost her on the first day."

Your heart could break from the choked agony of his voice. Swallowing hard, this time to fight the lump in your throat, not nausea, you reach across the table to put your hand over his.

"Joel..."

He looks up at you, now with a new fire in his eyes.

"It was a long time ago, but I've lived in that pain every day, until Ellie took me out of it. And now... this feels like a second chance."

He raises your hand to his lips and presses a kiss to your palm. You stare at him, suddenly wary.

"What do you mean, second chance?"

"To have a child with you."

You stare at him in bewilderment, barely even sure you heard him right. He hurries to elaborate.

"I'll take my responsibility. I'll help you raise the child. You won't have to do it all alone."

You quickly pull your hand out of his, like you burned yourself.

"Joel... I'm not going to keep it?"

Before Joel can say anything, your stomach revolts, and you shoot out of your chair, only just making it to the sink before you throw up. Spitting and turning on the water to wash away the vomit, you cup your hand under the stream of cold water, and drink to eradicate the sour taste in your mouth. Barely having swallowed the water, you throw up again.

Joel's warm body pushes gently against you, and his hand is on the small of your back.

"That's it," he murmurs, "deep breath, you're okay."

"I'm fine," you gasp, trying to breathe through your mouth to avoid the smell that seems to penetrate everything.

"I know," he replies calmly, reaching for a glass and filling it with water before handing it to you. "Here."

You drink carefully, hoping it'll stay down. The cold water chills your entire stomach, but you do feel better.

"Thanks." You glance up at him, hand holding the glass shaking a little. Joel notices, and takes it from you.

"You're welcome. Wanna sit down?"

You nod mutely, and he leads you back to the kitchen table. You can walk by yourself, but it's comforting to have his hand on your back. You're no longer alone in this, and it's a bigger relief than you thought.

You bow your head and hide your face in your hands for a moment, steadying yourself. Hearing the other chair scrape against the floor, you finally look up at Joel.

He looks sad but resigned.

"How far along are you?" he asks quietly. You shrug.

"No idea."

"Probably over six weeks."

You shrug again and draw your hand through your hair.

"I meant what I said, Joel." You try to sound gentler. "I'm not keeping it. I can't. I don't want it."

He casts his eyes down, and for a second you think you see a tremble in his lower lip. Then he sniffles with a grimace and looks up again.

"Okay."

You raise your brows. "Is that all you're going to say?"

"It's not my decision, sweetheart." This term of endearment is new, and you're not sure what to make of it.

"You're not going to try to convince me to keep it?" you dare him, but without vehemence. You're just tired.

Joel shakes his head, but you can see that he has something on his mind.

"Joel?" you prompt, and he finally sighs deeply.

"Are you sure you won't regret it?" His voice is eerily toneless, like he's trying his best not to sound accusatory. You rub your forehead with both palms in an attempt to suppress the headache that you can feel building up behind your frontal lobe.

"I've never wanted kids," you tell him in the same, dispassionate voice. "Not when I was younger, and surely not now. Not in this world, not at my age. Not at all."

He flinches, like your words hurt him, but then he nods solemnly.

"Okay. What are you going to do?"

You take a deep breath to steady yourself, because the question faced you with the fact that you have absolutely no idea how to deal with this.

"I don't know."

Your voice breaks, and the first tears well up in your eyes.

"Fuck." The tears spill down your cheeks, and you hide your face from Joel, embarrassed by this sudden display of desperation.

"Hey..."

He's around the table in a heartbeat, crouching by your chair and collecting you into his arms.

"It's okay, sweetheart, we'll figure it out. We'll talk to the doc."

The tears multiply, and you sob audibly from sheer relief of having someone else take charge. You haven't lived with the knowledge of your condition for barely a week, but it has weighed you down more than you knew. And now Joel knows, and he is telling you that it's going to be all right.

"I - just - feel - so - stupid!" you whimper between the sobbing, and Joel strokes his hand down your back.

"Not as stupid as I feel. It's okay, I promise you it'll be okay."

You draw a deep, quivering breath, and square your shoulders. They feel lighter, and you wipe your eyes and cheeks before smiling weakly at Joel.

"Thank you."

"I got you," he smiles back, a dimple appearing in his cheek. You haven't seen it before. It feels like a promise.

Carl, Jackson's doctor, is a GP, but has had to deal with a variety of emergencies over the years. He doesn't bat an eye when you, seated next to Joel, tell him of your predicament, and that you want a termination. He asks for a urine sample, handing you a cup that you, frowning, take with you into the bathroom, do your business, and leave it on the counter, as per Carl's instructions. Coming out of the bathroom, Carl asks you to come back in the afternoon. You agree on a time before you and Joel step out. He squeezes your hand before you part to go to work.

Returning later to Carl's office, you find out that you are, with a seventy percent accuracy, indeed pregnant.

"It's the best test I have," Carl explains. "If a thin film forms over the urine, pregnancy is likely. If not, there is no pregnancy."

"And it couldn't be anything else?" Joel asks, surprising you. Carl looks pained for a moment, and you realize what a difficult question that is. Your hand moves on top of Joel's on the arm rest.

"Given the symptoms; breast tenderness, morning sickness, light cramping... I can't think of anything else to explore."

 "How do we stop it?" you want to know. "Can we even?"

"A surgical abortion is technically possible," Carl nods, and you feel your shoulders relax. "I've done it a couple of times before I came to Jackson, even."

"Well, good."

"Is it safe?" Joel's voice seems tight. "Is it doable here, in these conditions?"

Carl hesitates for a moment before leaning forward to rest his forearms on his desk.

"The procedure itself doesn't take longer than fifteen minutes, but our conditions are, as you probably understand, not ideal. I can sterilize the equipment, but our biggest concern, apart from post-surgical infections, is pain relief."

He lets the information sink in before he adds: "I simply do not have the means to sedate you or give you the pain relief that you are going to need. I wish I could tell you this in any other way, but I can't: It's going to hurt a lot."

You swallow tightly. Joel's thumb passes over the back of your hand.

"Okay," you tell him in a small voice. "I don't have a choice. I'm not going to have a kid in this world. There's no way. We have to do it."

Later, after an extensive talk with the doc, you step out onto the main street of Jackson, Joel right behind you. Without words, the two of you slowly walk towards your house. Not until reaching it, do you sit down on the porch steps. Joel sits down next to you, shoulder to shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

"That's a hard question to answer," you sigh, rubbing your forehead. Joel sighs as well.

"Yeah."

You sit in silence and watch people go by. Ellie passes further away together with a friend, waving hello to you but not coming over to chat. You and Joel wave back.

"What does she know about us?" you ask quietly. Joel grunts.

"She knows we hang out, that I like your company, but I haven’t told her that we… you know.”

"I’m sure she knows. She's a smart girl."

"That she is."

You wet your lips. "Listen, Joel... I just want to say... thank you, I guess. For being there for me."

"Of course," he replies softly. "And I really am sorry for how I reacted."

"I'm sorry for slapping you."

"I deserved it."

"Kind of." You shoot a quick grin at him, and he grins back.

"Don't think about that," you shake your head. "And I want you to know that you don't have to be involved in what comes next."

"I'm not going to - "

"You wouldn't mind having a baby," you cut him off, "so I'm not going to have you watch me take one away."

"It's not a baby yet," he reminds you pragmatically. "And I said we'd figure this out together. I'll be there, every step of the way. I'll make sure you get through this."

He speaks with a quiet, gentle confidence that makes you want to cry again. You never knew how much you have longed for someone like him.

"You don't have an obligation," you try one last time. Joel turns towards you and cups the back of your head with one large hand.

"I want to be obliged to you, sweetheart."

He leans forward to let his lips brush over yours.

"Let me," he whispers, and you wrap your arms around him, accepting both his offer and his kiss.

[btsgotjams27]

things you don't know (2) | jjk

summary: the aftermath of jimin's party is weighing on your mind and you wonder if you have the courage to face jeon jungkook again.

✨ title: things you don't know (part 2) ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: PG-13 ✨ genre/au: angst | ex best friends!au | ✨ word count: 3.8k ✨ warnings: pov switch, we get to find out what happened to reader's panties, jimin's a menace, but overall a good friend :'), minor language, reader loves to threaten her friends (in a loving way ofc), jk & reader talk (properly), not really a warning but a mint mojito is a iced coffee drink not alcohol lol ✨ a/n: hi??? we're back with these two :') I didn't think anyone would like the first part that I wrote bc it was so angsty! lol but I'm so happy it was well received. i hope this gives everyone some closure. also, i'm scared of this flopping bc so many people asked for another part. i was so close to not writing it, but alas here it is. as always, i'd love to hear your thoughts. don't be afraid to drop any questions or comments. gonna go hide now, byeeee!

✨ mini-series masterlist ✨

~ JK POV ~

A haze of darkness loomed in the early hours of the morning. The night sky should've been clear according to the weather icons on Jungkook's phone. Could it be that his eyes are deceiving him? Were they hazy and cloudy? If he rubbed them, would the sky finally be clear? Or maybe you have blurred his vision, distorted his mind.

As if you weren’t already on his mind 24/7, 365 days for the last seven years. Your prodigal return has made him want to be close to you again, see how you were doing, and see if you had somehow found a way to forgive him. Your appearance at tonight’s party confirmed you must’ve hated him and could never find it in your heart to forgive him. At least, that’s what he thought.

On his late-night drive after dropping off Josie, he went the long way home through the city streets. He ended up at the park where you used to stargaze when you needed to clear your mind, and it was one of those nights for him.

You had taken over every fiber of his being, capturing his heart and holding him hostage. You’ve haunted him every day of his life since you left. At least when the two of you were in school, he could see you in class and the hallways, but once you left, there was no way to keep track of you, that is, until you started posting your college adventures on Instagram. He’d see your stories and how you’d come home to visit your parents and old friends, but of course, you wouldn’t see him. Why would you? He hurt you.

He replays tonight’s events—studying every word, every facial expression, your body language. He’s looking for a way to make it right, a way back into your heart. He doesn’t like it when you’re hurting, doesn’t like it when you’re mad at him, and especially doesn’t like it when you hate him.

He wished he could redo the last seven years and the moment when he decided to kiss Josie. He should've just left Jimin’s and come to yours, confessed his feelings, said how much he’d missed you, maybe even been brave enough to ask if he should go with you to college. Maybe he could’ve saved a lot of heartache for you, himself, and even Josie.

He took a deep breath, exhaling the unease lingering throughout his body. Opening his eyes, he realized the sky finally cleared out. He tucked one hand behind his head, and with the other, his finger traced constellations into the shape of animals—a little game you used to play together.

Thoughts raced through his mind: Do you still have a love for stargazing? Did you find a new spot? Did you have someone to accompany you? Or did you go by yourself? He guessed he’d never find out the answers to his questions.

“You’re coming in late. Or early. Were you with Josie?” Jimin’s sitting at the dining table, sipping on his coffee.

Jungkook shook his head. “Just out.”

“Man, it was good to see ____, right? I haven’t seen her since we graduated. Did you catch up with her?” He shifted in his seat, his foot pushing against the table’s leg, causing his chair to lean back. He licked his lips, suppressing a smile.

“Kind of.” Jungkook shrugged.

The chair made a loud thump when Jimin leaned forward. He set his coffee aside, his eyes narrowed, hands folded. “What happened between you guys, anyway? You were so close in high school, and whenever I ask you, you always change the topic.”

Jungkook looked at his friend, hoping he’d get the drift and move on from this conversation. He wasn’t keen on being bombarded with questions this early in the morning. He pulled out a chair, the legs screeching against the floor as he buried his face in his arms on the table.

“Or you quiet down whenever I bring her up. Well, whatever happened, you should just make out—I mean makeup with her since she’s back,” Jimin suggested, grinning at his mistake.

Jungkook looked up. “I don’t think she wants to see me.”

“See her anyway.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows.

“What? You’ll either sit here and keep wondering what could’ve been, or you can talk to her like an adult and hash things out—get everything out in the open.”

“I hurt her, Jimin.”

“So? Go and apologize.”

“I don’t think she’ll accept it.”

“It’ll be up to her to decide, but at least she’ll hear it from you.” Jimin sipped his coffee again. “And don’t think I haven’t seen you lurking on her Instagram throughout these years.” He shook his head and chuckled. “Your Instagram handle is the alphabet without ‘JK’ in it—so obvious.”

Jungkook's eyes widened. He thought he was careful all these years, hardly posting anything but random food dishes he’s cooked.

Jimin let out a hearty laugh. “Oh—you thought you were slick, huh? I’m quite the detective myself, Jeon.” Jimin pushed his chair out to stand, massaging his friend’s shoulder, shaking his head at him. “It’s time, my friend. Don’t let the past continue to haunt you.”

He lightly tapped his fingers on the table, debating his next move. He knew he had to break things off with Josie once and for all. No more letting her hover, giving into her, or letting her manipulate him. He let her have too many years of him–it was finally time to cut off the head of the snake.

~ reader pov ~

The early morning sun peeked through your curtains, beaming rays of light reflecting off of your mirror, making you sneak a glimpse of the time on your phone.

7:30 AM. It’s too early for anyone to function like an average person.

Propping yourself against your pillows, you begin scrolling through Instagram. You were tagged in one of Jimin’s photos.

The caption read: Look who’s back.

You were tipsy when the photo was taken. You had let Jimin wrap his arm around you, kissing your cheek, as you made a kissy face at Lana, who snapped the picture.

You looked at the amount of likes and comments. Jimin was still popular after high school. Your finger tapped on ‘view all 90 comments’, and then you realized it was just Jimin and Josie arguing back and forth in the comments about you.

Rolling your eyes, you were ready to exit the app, but then you couldn’t help but notice the username of ‘abcdefghi_lmnopqrstuvwxyz’ in the comment section, also telling Josie to ‘stop.’ You recognized the username because they liked a few of your posts and had seen your stories but never interacted.

You never bothered to look at everyone who followed you, but this username was too creative not to have a look.

When you clicked on the username, their profile picture was a sunset; their bio only had an emoji of a cookie and photos of food dishes. You guessed this person was an aspiring chef. Everything they posted looked scrumptious.

A series of knocks on your door interrupted your train of thought. It’s so early. Who could be here at this hour?

You peered through the peephole, your hand ready to unlock it, until you saw it was none other than Lana. There was a burning feeling in your chest, and your jaw clenched as you debated whether you wanted to let her in. She claimed not to know who Jimin’s roommates were, and you so happened to come to the party where Jeon Jungkook lived? Coincidence? Yeah, right.

“I can hear you breathing on the other side of the door,” she said, moving back to show you she had brought coffee from one of your favorite places.

You unlocked the door knob but left the chain lock intact. Opening the door, you peeked through, staring at the coffee in her hand.

“Leave the coffee, and I shall let you live to see another day.”

Lana rolled her eyes. “I know what you’re thinking–I set you up, but I swear on my mother’s grave that I did not know Jimin and Jungkook were living together.”

You tilted your head and crossed your arms. “You are correct. I believe you set me up, and I won’t be forgiving you.”

Lana sighed, digging through her bag. “I have something else for you too.” She pulled out the very thing you were looking for last night–your blush-pink panties.

You reach out to grab them, but she withdraws, clutching them in her hand. “I did you a favor by swiping them, washing them, and getting your favorite coffee. You’re still not going to open the door for me?”

You huffed, closing the door and unlocking the chain. Crossing your arms, you stood in the way, unwilling to let her in.

She showed off her biggest grin, holding up the tray of coffee and your panties.

You grabbed the coffee before grabbing your panties, leaving the door open if she willingly wanted this to be her last day on earth.

Lana follows you, closing the door and plopping beside you on the couch.

“Anything else you need to get off your chest before you breathe your last breath?” you ask before sipping the mint mojito iced coffee. You forgot how much you loved this drink.

“Yeah. How did the conversation with Jungkook go?”

“I swear to god, you’re addicted to drama.”

“As long as it doesn’t involve me, then I’m all ears,” she beamed from ear to ear, sipping her coffee. “And I also want to make sure you’re okay.” She elbows you before laying her head on your shoulder.

You couldn’t be upset with Lana. You knew she just wanted you to heal from what happened with Jungkook.

Last night felt like a fever dream, bumping into Jungkook. He sprang up on you with no warning. You had no time to prepare yourself—your heart, for what you’d say.

It’s like you had traveled back to that 18-year-old girl watching her best friend repeatedly hurt her. The scene replayed in your mind like an endless film reel–Jungkook and Josie holding hands, finding a letter in your locker, tearfully reading it in your room, and realizing you didn’t have a friend anymore after that day.

“So?”

“He blames me for everything that happened.”

Lana’s eyes widened, and jaw dropped. She put down her coffee, got up, and pulled her hair back. “You better hold me down before I beat his ass.”

You dragged her back beside you. “Stop being so dramatic.”

“How was it your fault?”

“He said he was upset that I was leaving for college and didn’t care to include him in the conversation. Then he went to one of Jimin's parties and kissed Josie, and they started dating.”

Lana’s upper lip raised in annoyance, glancing up at the ceiling. “I'm gonna punch him and his little girlfriend in the face the next time I see them.”

“And apparently, he says they’re not together or whatever.”

She gasped in disbelief. “Not together? She was practically all over him! And he was letting her do it!”

“That’s what I said, but he says it's complicated.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“What am I going to do? Nothing? Absolutely nothing. Avoid them like the plague. What else am I supposed to do?”

“What if he comes looking for you?”

The thought crossed your mind, but you had nothing to say to him. What more did he want from you? Since he blamed you, it’s not like he’d come asking for forgiveness.

“I don’t know. Maybe I shouldn’t have moved back.”

“Stop. I'm so happy you’re back. This place is so fucking lame without you.” Lana curled herself into your couch, hooking her arm in yours.

“Yeah, I didn’t think I had to endure all this drama with Jungkook the week I returned.”

“Maybe you should just talk to him and clear the air once and for all,” Lana suggested.

“I don’t know if I can do that without strangling him.”

“I’ll bail you out of jail, don’t worry, or I can help you. We can be cellmates.”

You loved how at least one of your best friends would go to such lengths for you. “God–I don’t wanna be an adult. I don’t want to talk to him.”

“I know, but I bet you’ll feel a million times better if you do.”

You didn’t want to hear the truth but you knew it was what you needed to do. You and Jungkook had unfinished business. Maybe it’s better to just talk to him and close that chapter of your life and finally be able to move on.

You Jiminie 🦗

JAMAN Oh, are you sliding into my DMs?

You 🙄 In your dreams

JAMAN 😂 I’m kidding. What’s up?

You Can I ask you for a favor?

JAMAN Anything for you

You Can I get Jungkook’s number?

JAMAN Huhuhu…the plot thickens

You Oh, stop it. Will you give it to me or not?

JAMAN Idk it depends.

You On?

JAMAN If I get to see more of you

You Jiminie…

JAMAN 😞😞

You You saw me once, that’s not good enough?

JAMAN Let me take you out to dinner. I want to catch up with you.

You Then I’ll never have to see you again? 🙂

JAMAN Sure…

You Fine fine fine Give me his number

You waited a few days to call Jungkook in case Jimin told him he gave you his number. You didn’t want to seem desperate; at least, it would be at your discretion. You’d be more prepared with your heart and your mind.

You sat there, staring at his name, tapping on the screen, and before you knew it, the line began ringing. Ah, fuck.

There’s no going back now.

Hello?

“Hey, Kook. It’s ___.” You can hear him shifting through the line.

Oh, hey. Jungkook cleared his throat. What’s up?

“I wanted to see if you’d be up for coffee or something. If you’re not busy, that is.”

Like today?

You hummed.

Just tell me where and what time.

“Philz Coffee at 2?”

Yeah! I’ll see you then.

You quickly ended the call. Well, the easy part was done. Now, onto the rest.

Even for a Thursday afternoon, the street where the coffee shop was located was rather crowded. You blamed the increased remote jobs and everyone flocking to work from there instead of their homes.

Walking toward the shop, you looked up to see Jungkook sitting outside with two coffees on the table.

He gave a small wave and stood when you approached him. “Hey!” His voice was enthusiastic as he flashed a warm smile, dimple on display. Jungkook gestured for you to sit.

“Do you still like mint mojito iced coffees?”

You chuckled to yourself. You didn’t think he would still remember your coffee order. “Yeah, I do.”

“Cool, figured you still did.”

You gave a half-smile.

Jungkook leaned forward in his seat, eyes on you. “So, why did you want to meet up?”

Your lips thinned before you cleared your throat. “I guess we have some unfinished business.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

You sighed, pulling yourself together to turn to him, looking him in the eye finally. Never in a million years did you think you would be sitting here, talking. His doe eyes sparkled, his boyish charm lingered, and that sweet smile made you swoon.

“I’m gonna say my piece, and then if you have anything to add, go for it.”

He nodded, listening intently to your following words.

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. “When you stopped talking to me—it hurt, fucked me up for a long time. I convinced myself for years I was over it, but that wasn’t the case at Jimin’s.”

It felt weird to finally say everything that had been building up aloud in front of him.

“It was hard going through college without you. I couldn't talk to you when I wanted, come over when I was bored, and experience new things with you. It was like this big piece of my life was missing, and no one could fill it. Sometimes, a song would come on shuffle that reminded me of you; then I'd get sad because I didn't know your new favorite songs or if you had seen the new Marvel movie.”

Most of all, you missed his presence and how he’d light up when he was excited to show you something or how he’d put a smile on your face when you were down.

“You were my best friend, Kook. I shared everything with you. So it hurt when you felt like you couldn’t talk to me. I would’ve understood if you couldn’t be friends with me because of Josie—I mean, it would’ve sucked big time, but I would never want you to feel like you can’t be honest with me.”

Jungkook stayed quiet for a bit before responding. “I’m sorry about what happened. I was hurting too, and I guess I wanted you to hurt too.”

“Well, it worked.” You let out a sad chuckle; your hand began playing nervously with the coffee cup before you.

He looks at you, scanning your face. “This might not mean anything now, but I know you. I know what songs you like, movies you watched, what made you sad and happy.”

Your gaze slowly flicked to his, your eyebrows knitted in confusion.

“I don’t want to sound like a creep or anything, but I’ve been following you on Instagram.”

“You have an Instagram account?”

“Uh, yeah. I just don’t post my face or anything.” He pulled out his phone to show you.

Your jaw dropped. “Oh my god. You’re alphabet boy?”

“Alphabet boy?” Jungkook’s forehead furrowed.

As soon as he said that, you began to piece everything together. So he was on social media. He was just good at hiding it.

“So, you’ve been keeping up with everything I’ve been doing?”

“You were my best friend. I missed you and wanted to know what your life was like.”

You didn’t know how to process this information. You had been lurking on Instagram, trying to get a glimpse of Jungkook, but after all these years, he was trying to keep a part of you with him.

“Just because you’ve liked my posts or watched my stories doesn’t mean you know me.”

He nodded in agreement. “You’re right. I don’t, but I would like to get to know you again.”

“What about Josie? What is she going to think?” You didn’t want to get in the way of whatever they had going on.

“I’ve tried breaking up with her multiple times, and she keeps on coming back, and I’m pretty dumb for letting her back in. I think we’ve just gotten into that rhythm where we’ve been comfortable with each other that it’s hard to let it go, you know?”

You chuckled to yourself. He was never really good at speaking up, was he?

He looks at you. “Do you think we can start over?”

You take a deep breath. “I don’t know. I—I don’t think I can lose you as a friend again.”

“You won’t,” he responded immediately.

You liked how sure he was of himself. That nothing or no one could get in the way of a new friendship again. But with Josie still in the picture, you didn’t think it would be as easy as he was making it seem.

A car drives by, music playing loudly from their speakers. It stopped the conversation, giving you time to think.

A part of you would love to be friends again, and the other part was ready to let go and start fresh. You weren’t the same person you were in high school. You had grown up, lived, and loved a little, and after finally getting to speak everything you’ve held onto—you were ready to close that chapter you had kept open for so long.

Jungkook waved his hand, calling out to you.

“Hmm?”

“What happens now?”

You shrugged, and your mouth twisted to the side. “I don’t know, Kook. How about we just take it one day at a time? And I don’t mean like we talk every day or something, but if we see each other, we’ll be able to say ‘hi.’”

Jungkook nodded. “Baby steps.”

“Right. Baby steps.”

“I can do that.”

JAMAN Dinner. Friday. 6 PM.

You Why, hello, Jimin.

JAMAN Right, hi. Dinner. Friday. 6 PM. Be there.

You You didn’t tell me where.

JAMAN My place.

You Is Jungkook going to be there?

JAMAN No, he’s outta town. Going somewhere with Josie.

You tut. Of course, he hasn’t broken it off with Josie. Why would he? No one changes within a week, right?

You Okay, fine. See you on Friday. Can I bring anything?

JAMAN Just yourself 😘

Friday.

JAMAN Hey, I’m running late from work. But make yourself at home! I’m going to grab some food on the way back, too.

You Am I supposed to break in?

JAMAN Oh, you silly girl. The code is 0613.

You ‘Kay, see you soon.

You couldn’t believe you agreed to come to Jimin’s place for dinner. Meeting up somewhere would’ve been safer if you bumped into Jungkook again. But you two did decide to take baby steps.

Keying in the code, you stepped in, eyes wandering around the house. Surprisingly, it was well-kept. No throw pillow or blanket is out of place. All the coasters were neatly lined up. Even the house plants were flourishing.

You closed the door, then heard a shatter of glass hitting the ground along with a ‘fuck’. You didn’t see any cars outside when you arrived. Maybe Jimin was dropped off.

“Hello? Jimin?”

You walked into the kitchen, peering around the corner, and saw someone’s head bobbing up and down.

“Kook?”

He looked up with doe eyes, and his jaw opened. “Oh—hey.”

“What are you doing here?”

Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows. “I live here,” he said slowly, sweeping the glass in a dustpan.

“Yes, I know that. But where’s Jimin?”

“Jimin’s at work. He asked me to make dinner.”

You huffed, throwing your head back. “Did you plan this?”

“Plan what?”

“This. Us. Dinner.”

“What? No. I didn’t know you were coming over.”

Your phone buzzed in your back pocket.

JAMAN Oh, hey, friend. I can’t make it to dinner. Guess you’ll just have to eat with Kook. 😘😘

You I’M GONNA BLOCK YOU PARK JIMIN

JAMAN 😘 I love you.

“I’m—just going to go. See you later, Kook,” you said, turning around to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“Home. Bye, Kook.”

“Why don’t you stay? I already made dinner and don’t want it to go to waste.”

You stopped in your tracks. Whatever he made smelled good.

He set down the dustpan and walked over to you. “Come on. It’s just dinner.”

You turned back to him, scanning him from head to toe. Why did he have to look so boyfriend in his all-black outfit and matching baseball hat?

You pointed your chin to the ground, staring at him. “Just dinner.”

✨ read part three ✨

[nataliesfirefly]

You and I Walk a Fragile Line - Farleigh Start x F!Reader - Part 5

a/n: hello!! i have a treat for u guys... so i know i said i don't really write smut but i felt like this story just needed it- this is my first time writing smut and it might lowkey suck. i hope it's good, i tried really hard but DAMN writing smut is not for the weak. props to you writers that do it so much better. anyways this part is kinda long BUTTT very juicy. please enjoy and leave a comment to tell me what you think or if you would like to be added to the taglist! also started posting this series on my ao3, it's the same as my tumblr username!

series masterlist

word count: 4.5k

warnings: language, alcohol, smut, fingering, angst, mentions of weed

You wake up to someone saying your name and shaking you. “Wake up,” You realize it’s Venetia. You blink a few times, your eyes adjusting to the warm golden light of your bedroom. 

“What?” Your voice comes out weak and hoarse. “Oh, thank God. I was worried about you,” She rubs your back and you groan, rolling over and shoving your face into the sheets.

“Where did you disappear to last night? All I remember is you and Farleigh going upstairs—” She stops in the middle of her sentence like she is just processing what she said. “Wait- did you and Farleigh-” 

“No! No, no, no.” You shake your head aggressively. You rack your brain to recall last night’s events. You remember drinking a lot of alcohol, making out with Farleigh, and then throwing up shortly afterwards. 

“Did you drink too much?” Venetia asks, her hand still on your back. “No…” You attempt to lie but you know it’s useless. 

You can’t hide your physical appearance, the sign that you obviously fell asleep drunk last night. You had slept in your dress, makeup was smudged all over your face and on the pillows of your bed, and your hair was tangled, the little butterfly clips that were once in it scattered around your bed. 

“Babes. Sit up, you need to drink some water.” She stands up and goes into your bathroom. You hear the faucet running as you slowly sit up, and your brain feels like it’s rolling around in your head.

“Oww,” You wince at the throbbing headache and adjust yourself, leaning against the headboard. Venetia returns and hands you a glass of water. You take it and hold it with both hands, not trusting your unstable grasp. You take a sip, letting the cool water refresh your dry throat.

“Haven’t seen Farleigh since last night either, come to think of it,” She remarks, watching you take little sips of the water. “Felix took a liking to Sadie. And you know, no one can deny Felix, so… you can guess how that went,” She chuckles to herself.

You pause and look at her. “Like, Sadie as in the one Elspeth was trying to set Farleigh up with?” You ask. Venetia nods. “Yep. Felix just can’t keep himself away from girls.” She tuts and shakes her head.

“Farleigh didn’t like her anyway,” You mutter. “I figured.” She looks at you strangely, like she’s trying to figure you out, or figure something out.

“You two seem a lot closer lately.” She raises an eyebrow. “No.” You immediately reply. She giggles at your quick response. “What? It’s not like it’s a bad thing,” She says.

“It is a bad thing.” You sigh and shake your head. Venetia narrows her eyes at you suspiciously before leaning back, deciding not to press you any further.

“What can I get you? Some painkillers?” She asks. “Yes, please.” You nod gratefully and she climbs off of your bed, heading out of your room.

You stare at the wall, thinking about last night. You didn’t want to think about it, but your mind kept going back to it. Although you were drunk and your brain was hazy, you can still remember it so clearly. The way his big hands felt so perfectly on your hips, the way he kissed your neck, the way you felt while you were underneath him. The way he made you feel. Your stomach flips as you press your thighs together, suddenly feeling warmth creep onto your face.

When Venetia returns, she refills your glass of water and hands you some pills to take. As you tip your head back to swallow the painkillers, you hear her gasp softly.

“Are those hickeys? On your neck?” You freeze and your heart drops. “Shit,” You curse under your breath. You knew there would be marks but you seemed to forget by the time you woke up.

“Oh my God,” Venetia laughs and playfully pushes you. Your face grows even more red and you glance down to avoid her gaze. “I fucking knew it,” She giggles with satisfaction and you let out an annoyed sigh.

“Please don’t go telling everyone. I don’t even know how it all happened,” You pinch the space between your eyes while closing them. “You know I won’t tell. I’m the best secret keeper around,” She nudges you softly.

“Just because we made out does not mean we’re anything,” You explain to her as if you’re trying to justify a crime. But deep down, some part of you wishes that wasn’t true. You want to at least be something to him. “We were just drunk.” Just drunk, you thought.

You manage to clean up your appearance and cover the bruises on your neck with lots of makeup. You walk downstairs to get some breakfast, maybe some toast or something to take it easy on your stomach.

You walk into the dining room and see Farleigh seated at his usual spot. After a brief moment of eye contact, you immediately drop your gaze to the floor and turn to walk to the buffet of fruit and pastries. You grab a plate and begin assembling your meal. You pause when you hear someone standing up from a chair and footsteps behind you.

Quickly, you turn around to see Farleigh walking out of the room. You watch him leave, confused by his sudden exit. You shrug and turn back to your breakfast, carrying your plate over to the table and sitting down.

You are enjoying the nice moment of peace and quiet as you take small bites of your croissant, until Felix walks in and stands on the other side of the table, looking down at you.

“Hey. Can we talk? Please?” He asks, sitting down in the chair across from you. You nod and take a drink of water.

“I’m sorry. I know Farleigh has told you things I have said. I don’t know if he’s making things up or telling the truth, but I’m sorry either way.” He says, twiddling his thumbs nervously.

“I forgive you, but why would you say those things if you didn’t mean them?” You reply, trying to find compassion for him while also trying to understand his mind. “I’m not sure. I just say dumb things sometimes, mate.”

Although this seemed like a half-assed apology and you were reluctant to accept it, you wanted things to go back to normal with Felix, or as normal as they could be, especially since you have to deal with him the rest of the summer. You want to enjoy every summer at Saltburn you have left before you graduate and move on with your life. But your thoughts still linger on why Felix treated you like some stray dog off the street during your argument a few days ago, and if he meant everything he said.

“Okay.” You nod and he grins. “Friends?” He holds out his hand for you to shake across the table. You lean forward and reach out, grabbing his hand and shaking it. “Friends.” You repeat.

Dinner that night feels different. Farleigh is quieter than usual, not interjecting with his little comments or jabs. He doesn’t even glance in your direction, even though you try staring him down multiple times. His eyes are glued to the table, or off to the side somewhere else. He’s been avoiding you all day, icing you out.

“How did you and Sadie get along, Farleigh?” Elspeth suddenly asks. Farleigh shrugs. “Alright,” He says simply. Elspeth tilts her head slightly and looks back down to her plate, a puzzled look on her face.

Venetia clears her throat. “I think Sadie and Felix got along especially well.” Felix coughs suddenly. “Venetia,” He mutters. She smirks, and you laugh quietly.

One evening, you walk downstairs to look for Venetia. It’s been three painful days of Farleigh ignoring and avoiding you. You can’t lie, you miss his company, as much as it pains you to admit it.

You find Farleigh sitting on the couch in the lounge room, reading a book. Now’s your chance. He can’t avoid you now.

You approach the couch and sit down next to him. He stiffens before standing up, placing the book on the arm of the couch, and walking out of the room. What the fuck? 

No, no. You can’t stand him ignoring you. It’s making your blood boil, that familiar feeling returning. Your anger towards him overcomes your senses.

You stand up and race after him, passing through the study, surrounded by tall, dark shelves of dusty old classics. You reach out and grab his wrist, forcing him to turn around. His cold and dark eyes pierce into you, and you can feel the tension already building. 

“Why are you avoiding me?” You ask, your voice coming out harsher than you expected. 

“Avoiding you?” He raises an eyebrow and acts clueless. Of course, he’s playing dumb. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He puts on a look of confusion, like he’s trying to figure something out.

“Bullshit. You haven’t talked to me for three days. You left me that night when I was literally throwing up,” Your voice seethes with anger. He tilts his head, only now realizing you are alluding to the other night’s events.

“I was drunk. We both were.”  He says. He steps forward, towering over you. “It didn’t mean anything. Don’t be an idiot,” He lowers his voice and his tone is condescending.

“Don’t do that. I know you felt it, too.” You say, lowering your own voice. You tighten your fingers around his wrist and stare deep into his eyes, searching for something, anything.

He pauses and stares right back at you. For a moment, everything is still. Until he rips his arm from your grasp and steps away.

“Felt what?” He asks, his voice cold. “Fuck you,” You whisper through gritted teeth, feeling angry because you know he’s bluffing.

“Oh yeah? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He replies teasingly, tilting his head with a slight smirk, showing his teeth.

You look away, clearly flustered and your face becomes hot. You aren’t sure what to say as you stare down at the floor. Before you know it he’s stepping back up to you and grabbing your wrist, pulling you close to him almost too quickly. You almost trip on your own feet as he effortlessly grabs you.

He leans down, his eyes flickering from your lips back to your own. You take the hint and stand on the tips of your toes to meet his height, tilting your head as your noses brush together. There’s only a millisecond of hesitation before he’s kissing you in the same way he did a few nights ago, like he’s making up for lost time.

His arms wrap around you hurriedly, desperately, as if you were trying to get away from him. Which you definitely weren’t. You place your hands on his chest to ground you as you both stumble backwards before your back hits one of the bookshelves.

You gasp for air and you hear Farleigh breathing heavily after he pulls away, but only for a brief second. His eyes are clouded with lust, his pupils blown wide, the black almost overtaking the beautiful brown rings around them.

His lips are on yours again, his body pinning you to the bookshelf. You reach your arms up to his broad shoulders as you feel his tongue slip into your mouth. Your eyes flutter with delight as you melt into the kiss, feeling his hands travel down to your lower back, and then your hips.

You feel his hand slip under your sundress and grab your thigh, pushing your leg up and to the side, giving some distance between your legs. He nudges his knee right in that spot, softly grinding it against you.

He pulls away to watch your reaction, biting his bottom lip as your eyes widen. Your lips part slightly and a soft moan escapes you. “Farleigh,” You gasp, your breath short as your hands grasp onto his shoulders.

“Hmm?” He mutters, tilting his head down to kiss your neck. Your neck is still sensitive from the bruises he had left last night, but you don’t care. Your mind can only seem to focus on the ache between your legs, your body practically screaming for him.

“Please,” You whisper, although you aren’t sure what you’re begging for. But he seems to know exactly what you want. He moves his knee slightly, still keeping your leg up, and the hand that was hooked under your thigh is now hiking your dress up for easier access. His fingers dance along your inner thigh and eventually, he’s pushing your panties to the side and your breath catches in your throat as you feel his finger dipping into your wet folds without warning.

He seems to groan in response to how soaked you are, and you would normally be embarrassed, but you’re too turned on at the moment to care. Your eyebrows draw upwards and your mouth falls open as his thumb nudges at your clit, tracing agonizingly slow circles. All you can do is whimper in response as he teases you, your knees feeling so weak, like you could fall over at any minute.

Suddenly, one of his long fingers is pushing deep into the heat of your cunt, pulling a short moan out of you as your head falls forward, your forehead resting on his chest. Your walls stretch around his digit and he groans again. “So tight,” He mutters, that alone almost causing your knees to give out. Not long after, he adds a second finger, his thumb still rubbing your clit at a slightly faster pace. You can feel that familiar heat building up in your lower stomach already, causing your heart to race even faster.

You begin to grind against his hand, rolling your hips mindlessly at the tempo he set for the both of you. You swear you hear him moan, his other hand’s grip on your waist tightening to keep you in place. He seems to be enjoying this just as much as you are, his fingers curling and gliding inside of you so delightfully. His fingertips brush up against that heavenly, spongy spot inside of you that you had never been able to reach on your own, causing your jaw to go slack.

“Shit- Right there,” You grip his shoulders even harder, your head lolling back. “Yeah?” He responds, his voice deep and raspy. You nod senselessly, and his fingers continue going deeper, determined to give you that pleasure you were chasing after. It’s almost too much, and your eyes begin to tear up as his fingers glide against that spot, over and over. You feel the white hot pleasure building and building, like a coil threatening to unravel at any moment. “Far-” You manage to choke out as if to warn him.

“Look at me,” Farleigh demands, and you don’t know if you can. Your head is tilted back and your eyes are fluttering, gazing up at the ceiling. “I can’t-” You shake your head as his fingers continue working on you, your chest heaving up and down. You want to feel that euphoric relief but you don’t want the moment to end either, but it feels so good that it almost starts to hurt.

He grabs your chin and tilts your head down so that you are forced to look right at him. Your eyes are glazed over and half-lidded, your lashes wet from your tears. “Such a slut. So easy to please,” He mutters, dragging his thumb down your swollen bottom lip. “I need– Can’t-” You whimper, apparently unable to form coherent sentences as you feel your climax approaching. “Need what, baby?” He asks tauntingly, and with one final stroke on your clit, you’re gone.

Your whole body tightens and stills, the pleasure racking through you. Your eyes roll back and you claw at his shoulders desperately as he helps you ride it out. When your eyes return to him, he has an almost pained expression on his face as he watches you come undone. He moans and lets go of your chin, letting your head fall back onto his chest. You lick the tears that built at the corners of your lips, your body going limp as you breathe heavily due to the aftermath of your intense orgasm. Eventually, he pulls his fingers out of your pussy, letting your dress fall back down over your legs. He takes the smallest step away from you, and you can finally raise your head enough to look up at him. His gaze bores into yours as he puts those two fingers into his mouth, tasting you, swirling his tongue over them. You can’t seem to look away. You’re fascinated by his dedication.

“See you in the morning,” His arms return to his sides and he grins smugly, turning to walk out of the study. You stand there in shock, not sure what to do with yourself. What the hell just happened? Your legs are still shaking as you flatten your dress with trembling hands. 

2 YEARS EARLIER

You glanced at yourself in the mirror, pulling your hair forward to fall over your shoulders. You spun around, observing the outfit that your roommate, Lola, had put together for you. A short, denim skirt with a cropped black top with some band’s name on it. It was simple but cute. 

“You look so good,” Lola stepped up behind you and grinned at your appearance. “I think I did a great job.” She nodded and slapped you on the ass. “You did. It was all you,” You told her, leaning forward to flick a remnant of mascara off your face.

You had gotten all dressed up to go clubbing with Lola. It took loads of convincing, but eventually, you agreed. In about a month or two, you would have to start revising for exams, and you wanted to get good scores. So, this was kind of your last chance to go out, have a good time, stay up late, drink, and party until you forget about your stress.

“Wait, do my extensions look alright? My sister bought them for me. She told me they were trending,” You turned around to examine her hair. She had put a few clip-in pink hair extensions to contrast her dark brown hair. “They look great.” You said. She smiled at you before turning around. “Let’s get going then,” She grabbed her purse and you followed suit, trying not to trip in your chunky platform boots.

Almost everyone you knew from Oxford was at that club. It was the closest one to campus, after all. Felix waved you and Lola over to the bar.

“So, Lola, how’s second term going for you?” Felix asked, sliding her a tall glass of beer. She shrugged, taking the beer and tasting the foam at the top. “Good. Can’t complain,” She grinned. “Same here. Just can’t wait for exams,” He remarked sarcastically.

“Oh, yeah. So excited,” You joined in, and you all chuckled. “Well, I’m going to the loo.” Lola nudged you and you turned to her. “C’mon,” She muttered. “Oh- Okay,” Felix watched you two walk off to the bathroom.

There was a line for the toilets, but instead Lola brought you to the side. “I don’t actually need to go. I just… have a question,” She had some kind of mischievous twinkle in her eyes. “What’s up?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s about Felix. Is he single?” You groaned and facepalmed. “Lola. We’ve been over this.” Lola had an intense crush on Felix ever since you introduced them to each other. You told her that it would make things awkward if they dated, considering they were both your best friends, but she never seemed to give up on her dream.

“Well, is he?” She exclaimed, throwing her hands up. “I don’t know. He’s not really one to… settle down. He gets with a different girl, like, every other night.” You shrugged helplessly. Lola bit her lip, considering her options.

“If you are wanting a serious relationship with him, good luck.” You shook your head. Lola raised her eyebrows. “So, what about just a shag?” She asked. You rolled your eyes. “I mean, he probably wouldn’t be opposed to that.” 

“Okay. What should I say?” Lola chewed on her nail nervously. “Uhh, just… Flirt, I guess.” You shrugged. She groaned. “You are absolutely no help.” She pat you on the shoulder before spinning on her heel and walking back out into the club and towards the bar again. “Good luck!” You shouted after her, but you don’t think she heard you. 

Great. Now you were on your own. You sighed and walked out of the bathroom, shoving past groups of girls and loud men. You headed over to the lounge area, where many people sat on the velvet couches, smoking, playing drinking games, or full on making out.

You recognized one of the people in the corner. Farleigh. He was heavily making out with someone, almost grinding on them. It was most likely Sasha, you thought. But no, the other person was too tall to be Sasha. You squinted and walked a bit closer. Joshua?!

Farleigh was making out with Joshua Brown. “The fuck?” You muttered under your breath. You thought Joshua was straight. I mean, he liked girls so much, it never would have crossed your mind that he would be into men.

You wondered if you should tell Sasha about this… situation. You knew she was here tonight, you saw her earlier shaking ass on the dancefloor. And you could have sworn Farleigh was right next to her. Oh well. You wanted an excuse to snitch on Farleigh.

You backed away and walked speedily to the dancefloor, searching for Sasha. “Have you seen Sasha?” You asked a random girl. She shook her head.

You moved through the throng of students and eventually saw her. She was standing towards the edge of the dancefloor, speaking to one of her girl friends, nodding enthusiastically.

“Sasha!” You jogged over to her and paused to catch your breath. She looked you up and down like she was trying to recognize you. “Uhhh..” She trailed off, glancing to her friend. Her friend shook her head, as if to say, ‘I don’t know her either.’

“I know you don’t know me. Well, maybe you do and you just forgot, but-” You paused, realizing you sound stupid. “Anyways. I just wanted to ask if you were aware that Farleigh and Joshua Brown are making out right now…?” 

She stared at you like you just spoke a different language. Then, she finally seemed to process what you said. “What? Really?” Her eyes widened and she looked over to her friend once again. You nodded. “Sorry.” 

“No, you have nothing to be sorry for. Where exactly was this happening?” She asked, and you could tell she was mad. You could feel the rage radiating from her.

“Over by the lounge,” You told her, pointing to the opposite side of the club where you had just come from. She nodded and grabbed her friend’s hand. “Let’s go get this dumb bitch,” Sasha told her.

“Yikes,” You whispered, watching them storm off together. You kind of wanted to see Farleigh get his ass handed to him, so you followed far behind them.

They were still all over each other by the time Sasha and her friend reached them. “Hey, what the fuck?!” Sasha yelled, earning a few glances from some innocent bystanders. Farleigh froze and pushed Joshua off of him. “Shit. Hey, Sasha.” He stood there awkwardly.

Sasha stepped up to him and slapped him across the face. “Are you a fucking idiot? You asshole! Did you think I wouldn’t catch you?” Farleigh’s eyes widened as he stared down at her, completely at a stand still.

“You fucking cheater,” Her voice seethed with anger. “What, have you two already shagged?” She pointed to Joshua. Joshua just stood there, eyes wide and face flushed with embarrassment. “No, we haven’t.” Farleigh replied. “And it’s not cheating. We were just-” 

“Shut the fuck up.” She raised her finger at Farleigh. “Sasha, baby, please.” He opened his arms and she shook her head. “No. You’re probably high. I can smell the fucking weed on you,”

Farleigh’s eyes trailed from Sasha over to you. His eyes narrowed and it’s like he knew immediately that you were the one who snitched on him. You lowered your gaze to the floor and stepped back before turning and walking away.

Later that night, you sat with Joshua in his dorm, consoling him as he cried. Lola had texted you to inform you that she and Felix were going back to his place. You guessed she was successful after all. You held him as his shoulders shook, feeling his tears falling onto your shirt. 

“I feel awful. Sasha didn’t deserve that,” He looked up at you and you nodded. “I know. Listen, they’ll be back together in no time. Trust me.” You pat his head. “And now everyone thinks I’m gay,” He sobbed.

“Well.. are you?” You asked, curiosity getting the best of you. He shrugged. “I’ve just always thought Farleigh was so hot and tonight… well, he gave me some weed and then he kissed me. How could I say no?”

Oh. It made so much sense now. Joshua was always talking about Farleigh, how he was good with both girls and boys, and his skills. You thought maybe he had been jealous, but all along, he just had a crush on him.

“Damn. It’s okay. It may… take some time to figure things out, you know?” You rubbed his back and he sniffled. 

You stayed the night at Joshua’s. It was already too late for you to return back to your own dorm, and you didn’t even have the key to your room. Lola did, and you knew she wasn’t there. He fell asleep with his head on your lap, so you had no choice but to lean back and try to get some sleep, despite the uncomfortable position you were in.

To no surprise, you heard Sasha and Farleigh fucking during the early hours of the morning. You knew their relationship was so fucked that Farleigh cheating wouldn’t change anything. Sasha pretended to be angry, but she loved him too much to break up with him. So instead, they just fucked.

You sat there and stared at the wall, wondering if Farleigh was the problem or if Sasha was. Sasha was psychotic, but Farleigh was the one making out with someone else. Maybe Sasha gave him a pass because he was high. Either way, you figured they were very dysfunctional. But why were you so invested in trying to figure them out, or rather, figure him out? You decided to think about that question in the morning as you drifted off to sleep.

taglist: @isla-finke-blog @ibimbogrl @drunkmysticsquirrel @alonia-olivia @novemilady @saltburnsworld @florkt @i-love-ptv

[traumasurvivors]

Here’s a link to a blog post on my personal website on a topic that I think is very important.

I’ve also put it below the read more for people that don’t like external links. But if you're okay with it, checking it out on my personal website is really nice (and even giving it a heart if you can)! I don't make money from my website, so there are no intrusive ads or anything like that to stop you from reading the article.

Embracing Your Inner Child

This applies to anyone, but I really want to emphasize this to my fellow survivors who went through trauma as children and/or teenagers.

I’m so sorry you lost part, most or all of your childhood. That doesn’t mean it’s too late to give your inner child what you can. This includes comfort but it also includes doing the things you didn’t get to if you can.

Play the fun games. Buy the tasty treats. Go on adventures.

It’s never too late to feel a little more of the kind of joy you had (or should have had) as a child. You may not be able to be a child again, but you can still help and support your inner child.

You might have been told that a fun idea you had was “silly” or even “stupid.” When you have those thoughts now, instead of rejecting it, embrace the “silly” idea and let yourself enjoy it. It’s not shameful or wrong to do the things your inner child wants to do. It’s okay to be “immature” sometimes, even if you’re twenty years old. Or thirty. Or sixty. I just want to say that I don’t think any of this is immature, but I know that is a bias and judgement a lot of us might pass on ourselves. 

A short, not at all complete list of things you might do for your inner child:

Watch childhood movies or tv shows (Did you watch “Blues Clues”, or “Pokemon”? Maybe “The Land Before Time”? There’s no reason you can’t still enjoy them.)

Listen to “silly” music, maybe singing along or dancing to it (for me, one favourite is “I Just Can’t Wait To Be King” from The Lion King. I know every word and have a dance party everytime it comes on my shuffle.)

Go to the park and use the swings (I don’t know why, but flying up just a few feet can make me forget all my “grown-up” worries)

Have a treat just because (maybe that big sundae your parents never let you have, or the chicken nuggets you haven’t had in a decade). Maybe you want to fulfil your childhood dream of having ice cream for breakfast! 

Go to the toy store - maybe even get some stuffed animals or other toy items. (I just recently realized that I can fulfill my childhood dream of collecting certain toys that I never got to have when I was younger!) 

Ride a roller coaster and scream your head off on the way down (I like to try to be in the very first car)

Make creative, crafty stuff - like a painting or drawing, or decorating a picture on construction paper with googly eyes and glitter or a clay model with a weirdly shaped head (even if the result looks like something you’d expect to see in a kindergarten class, or the process makes a mess that looks like a glitter bomb went off)

Another aspect of embracing your inner child is trying to give your inner child the person you needed when you were a child. 

This might mean standing up for yourself when others try to put you down or take credit for things you’ve done, even (or especially) if no one else spoke up for you when you were a child. 

It might mean offering comfort and compassion to yourself, and not being too hard on yourself when you make mistakes that you would have been insulted for as a child or don’t know something that “everyone learns as a child.” Maybe now you can teach yourself that accidents happen, and spilling a drink or breaking a plate is not the disaster and failure of character that you were told as a child. 

It might mean being patient with yourself when something is harder to do than you feel like it should be (whether you actually aren’t able to do it as easily as others, or you have unrealistic expectations of its difficulty because of the expectations put on you as a child). There are lots of instructional videos out there to help you to gain basic cooking or cleaning skills. If you never really learned to read, there are programs to help you. If you weren’t allowed or able to learn to manage your emotions or relationships in healthy ways, there’s help out there for you. There is absolutely no shame in not learning any kind of skills you feel you “should” have learned as a child, and it is okay to learn them as an adult.

You may have had to grow up too fast. You may not have been allowed to do the fun things. You may have suffered trauma that shattered your childhood. I’m here to tell you that you still have an inner child, and embracing that inner child is good for you. Just because you’re an adult, at any age, doesn’t mean that you’re too old to have fun.

No one else gets to decide what’s right for you - you get to decide what you enjoy and what you want.

And it’s never too late to remember, indulge, listen to, and embrace your inner child. Let them be a part of how you choose to move forward. It’s time for us to realize that there is no one way to be an adult, and we get to decide what being an adult means to us. And if that means I want to rent a bouncy castle for my birthday, then that is my perfectly valid version of an adult birthday (a birthday which my inner child would be thrilled about, by the way).