#3 more months of waiting and nail biting

[pseudowho]

Operation: Babymaker-- Wet Dreams

When it comes to trying for a baby, Nanami Kento always works overtime. And the reader had better be ready 💛

When the busy days and exhausted nights keep you and Kento apart, things get a little...creative 💛

💜 💛 Part 1 LINK HERE: A Trip to the Tailors

💜 💛 Part 2 LINK HERE: Benchpress

💜 💛 Part 3 LINK HERE: Ditch the Party...again

💜 💛 Part 5 LINK HERE: Honeytrap/Maid Café

Warnings: 18+ throughout, breeding kink, fertility/infertility discussion, somnophilia (m receiving and f receiving)

*PLEASE MOURN THE LOSS OF THE YELLOW TEXT OPTION WITH ME 💛*

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"I miss you. So much. I'm going to be home so late, I know it."

Kento could picture you now, leant against the wall, the heel of your palm pressed to your forehead, trying to massage away the impending headache. Eyes drifting closed, he sighed, craving you back home.

"I'll wait up for you," Kento assured, smiling as you sighed, feeling that soft breath whisper over his ear instead. You had been gone for days, and Kento had resisted every urge to stroke himself to the thought of you, knowing he should save himself for when you were home.

Images of all that cum, dripping from you, and being pushed back in with his fingers, and the sound of your voice, had his cock swelling embarrassingly fast. Picturing your disappointed face over the last two months, the small pile of negative pregnancy tests, he felt a competitive surge, a challenge. Kento shivered, jaw clenched, cracking his fingers in anticipation.

"And if I do fall asleep," he half-joked, wicked, "do feel free to have your way with me."

A giggle, a hushed moan ("Kento, stop-- you'll give me ideas"), making him twitch against his pyjamas. Kento reached down, trying to squeeze his cock into submission. Hand shaking, hooking himself out of his pyjamas to sit, hot and heavy, leaking onto the honey-blond hair of his belly, Kento begged, low and husky.

"Tell me more," he hummed, edging himself with no intention to finish, stroking his slit with one pre-cum wet thumb, "about those ideas."

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You were right about being late home.

At 2am, you crept through the doorway, stripping all the way to the bathroom, moving seamlessly from front door to shower, finally feeling the grime of the day wash off you in glorious wet heat.

You heard soft snores from your bedroom as you stepped out, hair wrapped and drying. Reaching out to where you knew Kento had left his t-shirt for you-- clean, but with just enough him smell on it to make you feel deliciously his, your face softened at his sleeping form.

Half upright, propped on pillows, Kento's hands rested on a folded book across his chest, face sideways, warm and relaxed in his slumber. You crept over to him, needing to touch him, scratching your nails languidly through his sleep-mussed hair.

Kento groaned, his chest rumbling in his sleep, and you felt a stir of want in your belly to see his hips twitch upwards, as if he were between your legs in his dreams.

Biting your lip between your teeth, remembering your conversation on the phone, you ghosted your hand over Kento's bare navel. Scratching your fingers down his happy trail, you were delighted to see his belly twitch, his eyebrows pinching together.

Possessed, you climbed slowly onto the bed, your hips either side of Kento's knees as you reached into his bedside drawer, retrieving the little remote control vibrator he hid there.

"God, Kento, you're so beautiful," you whispered in the dark, lowering his pyjamas just enough to free him, soft in your hand, "you don't even know it."

Leaning forwards, lightly squeezing Kento's cock, you slipped the vibrator inside your underwear, sliding it between your rapidly wetting folds, switching it on. You hushed your own moan by opening your mouth, and sealing it around Kento's twitching cockhead.

His mouth had dropped open in his sleep, one hand slipped from his chest to fist at the duvet, a shivering gasp in the night. You let the spit collect in your mouth, tonguing his cockhead, wet and warm, sucking the blood to his length. Awash with the eroticism of him hardening, completely unaware, inside your mouth, you rolled your pussy against his legs, using the pressure to rock the vibrator against your clit.

You swiped your tongue around him, feeling him grow between your lips, his tip hitting deeper with each bob of your head around him. You tasted salty pre-cum, licking it down with a swallow, thrilled by his unadulterated twitches, gasps, and slow sandy moans.

Half-hard against the roof of your mouth, you released Kento, and he whimpered in protest, fucking himself up into your spit-wet hand. You were captivated by him, obsessed with the way his body reacted so viscerally; hips twitching, brows furrowed in anguished pleasure, pre-cum dripping out into your hand...

...you could have cum then and there, jerking him off faster and harder to have him spill in your hand. Instead, you slowed, stretching out your tongue to taste him again. Spitty, mewling around his length as you edged yourself with the vibrator humping against his legs, you moved your mouth fluidly as you pictured Kento awake, knuckles deep in your hair while he fucked your mouth.

Solid and throbbing in your mouth now, Kento panted, hair mussed, cheeks flushed as one hand fisted the duvet, and the other reached up behind him to squeeze the pillow, his fingers rolling over something absent mindedly in his dream.

"Is it me?" You whispered against him, painting your lips against his cockhead while Kento shuddered, "Is it me, in your hands? I hope so." You felt his thighs and back twitching rapidly, feeling his impending orgasm, desperate to feel full with him, desperate for the day you could finally surprise him with his morning coffee and two sweet blue lines--

Giving him one final lick as his hips bucked up towards you, you stripped your underwear, holding your vibrator in place as you held his cock upright, rubbing it against your entrance. Kento's gasps were shuddering and desperate now, words ghosting over his lips, his hands shaking, white-knuckle-clenching the sheets.

You quickly lowered yourself, taking his whole length in one smooth drop onto his hips.

"Oh fuck, Kento--" you mewled, not pulling him out at all, rocking him inside you and feeling his tip kiss your deepest walls, already fluttering around him and desperately close to orgasm, "-- feel so good-- so full-- cum inside me please please please--"

You begged him like this as you pleasured yourself on his cock, circling the vibrator over your clit in trembling little movements. Kento mumbled, your name on his lips, teeth gritted as his pleasure began to peak, lost in the wettest dream.

Rutting yourself down onto him, hips wiggling just a little harder to feel him in your belly, Kento grunted, euphoric and convulsing beneath you, and you encouraged it as you came with him, clamping down around him, lost in a blissful haze with his reflexive orgasm inside you.

"Fffuck.. that was amazing," you smiled to yourself, full of admiration to see Kento relax, marshmallow soft and slumped against the pillows. You pressed a kiss to his chest, slipping him out of you with a shiver, legs clamped together, snuggling yourself under his arm as you put his softening cock back into his pyjamas.

You fell asleep like this, ecstatic that you had shared your wicked little ideas with him before you got home.

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Kento woke early, to the birdsong dawn and you, soft and snoring, under his arm. Wakefulness came to him slowly, unsure why he felt sticky inside his pyjamas, why there was a pair of your underwear on his belly, why the vibrator he liked to pin between your legs was now under the covers, pressed against his thigh--

All the puzzling couldn't stop the way his cock answered the question for him, that morning testosterone whoosh making it rock solid against his belly in seconds.

"What have you been up to, you dirty little minx?" Kento whispered, low and conspiratorial as he snaked one arm under your head and neck, the other lazily lifting your leg over his hips as he shucked his pyjamas down, kicking them off.

Kento's other hand grazed down the front of your body, moaning to feel your thighs and pussy, soaking wet and dripping with more than just your arousal.

"Did you fuck me while I slept?" He whispered against your ear, feeling your body squirm against him, far away in your lavender clouds, "How...presumptuous of you. I should rather have been awake." Kento's fingers dipped between your folds, sliding easily into your entrance, fingering you with his own cum. He groaned to feel your walls flutter around him, pressing three fingers into you as you mewled, twisting against him.

Kento laughed softly, deep and sleep-gruff, "Come now...you've had bigger than that," he teased, teeth clenched with the taboo thrill of using you while you slept, "and just a few hours ago, too...shall we fill you up some more?"

Kento was possessed, overtaken by the squelch of his fingers pistoning into your sloppy cunt, biting his lip with husky groans to feel you jolt and wiggle, whining against him. Adding his thumb over your puffy clit, tightening his arm over your neck and chest, Kento felt his cock leap against you as you sank your teeth into his arm, mewling in your sleep.

"Good girl," he encouraged, "we'll fill you up again, hmm? Have you all fucked-out and dripping, all tucked up in bed..." Kento moved his fingers faster, reaching as deeply as he could, pressing against your spongey sweet spot, "...and then I'll make you breakfast...and fuck you some more."

You cried out, twitching weakly as you came, wet and clenching around his hand, and Kento was so far gone, lost in how good you'd feel, all pliable and blissful in his arms. Locking your thigh over his hip, Kento began to push easily into you, clasping you against him with his other arm across your chest.

Feeling you, floppy and sleep-warm against him, had Kento biting into the back of your shoulder, nuzzling and nipping, resting his cock in your tight walls for just long enough to pull himself back from the edge.

"...haaah, darling-- too good...s'too good-- fuck, 'm not letting you out of bed today--"

Kento started to move within you, drunk on the wet drag of himself through you, moaning, shuddering into your neck. He kept this torturous pace, fast enough to feel you shiver with pleasure, and slow enough to keep you from waking.

Kento's hand roamed your body unashamedly; squeezing the soft pouch of your belly, trailing fingertips lazily along stretch marks and cellulite, the softness of your hair, the full plush of your breasts and thighs, rolling your nipples in a way that brought him faint, distant memories of his dreams that night.

Eyes closed, deep in the sensual little cocoon of your bed, Kento whispered dirty little thoughts to you, the sunlight warming his back, casting shadows on his hips as they rolled into you; "--send to you work tomorrow-- haaah, fuck-- cum dripping down your legs-- your panties in my pocket-- lock the staffroom door and-- and--shit--"

Hips stuttering, groaning and burying his nose into your soap-scented hair, Kento came, holding you by the belly as long spurts of seed painted your cervix white. Feeling you shuffle and whimper, Kento bit into you with a growl, instinctively trapping his cock inside you. Grunting as his cock twitched weakly, emptying him of the last few spurts of cum, Kento felt you twist your head towards him, sleepy as you nuzzled the side of his head.

"...mmmm...morning, gorgeous."

Receiving a fractured little groan and hot, fast pants in response, the rest of your body began to wake, and you wiggled with a smile to feel Kento's cock, warm inside you.

"...sorry," offered Kento, sheepish, "...couldn't resist." You giggled, accepting musty morning kisses from him as you pictured him the night before, fast asleep, irresistible, book folded open on his chest.

"I know what you mean. Want to go out for breakfast?" Kento groaned, eyes still closed as he manhandled you onto your back, pressing sloppy kisses onto your face as you giggled, being rocked from side to side.

"Another day," he begged, voice low and persuasive "you're too busy today-- got a baby to make."

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My pussy wrote this, and she hopes you liked it 💛

#jjk #kento nanami #jjk nanami #kento nanami x you #nanami fluff #kento nanami x reader #nanami kento smut #kento nanami x y/n #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu nanami #kento nanami smut #nanami #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami smut #nanami x reader #nanami x y/n #nanami x you #kento x reader #kento smut #kento x y/n #jjk kento #nanamin #Operation Babymaker #Pseudowho

[the-doomed-witch]

SLUT!

WandaNat x AFAB!GN!Reader

Summary: Daddy and mommy need their toy.

Word Count: ≈0.9k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. Just pwp, double penetration, cum filled straps (r receiving), breeding kink, gagging, degradation, sort of objectification, reader is wearing a collar, daddy (n), mommy (w), sub!reader, Wanda just can’t keep her hands off lol

Author’s Note: Long time no see, folks. Here’s some smut because I haven’t written in months. I just use this blog as a means to honrypost but in a fanfic way. Hope you all like this. Reblogs/comments are much welcome & appreciated <3 GIF credits to creators

MASTERLIST // NAVIGATION // REQUESTS CLOSED

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“Easy, baby, easy,” Wanda whispers as she bottoms out inside you. Her slender fingers tug at the small black collar around your neck, the fingertips tickling your skin. The sensation of being so filled makes you whimper and moan at the top of your voice.

“You’re not making it easier for daddy, now shush. Don’t move, just a little more.” Natasha orders from behind you, her strap waiting to penetrate you. She grabs the side of your hips to hold them in place, and stretches them open for her convenience. “Please, daddy, I can’t…” you protest, but Wanda tugs at your collar harshly, almost making you choke on your own spit. “Shhh darling, let mommy and daddy play with their slut,” she speaks right into your ear and bites the earlobe.

And when Natasha’s strap is inside your ass, your groans intensify with the feeling of being so thoroughly penetrated. Thrust thrust thrust, the two women absolutely devour your holes.

From behind you, Natasha kisses the side of your neck, biting down on the skin. Your head is thrown back as soon as you feel the sinking teeth indenting your skin. Wanda pounds your throbbing cunt, the wet slick running down your thigh. “Taking mommy’s cock so well, baby,” she speaks hushedly, “Just like the dick riding whore that you are.”

The mere words tighten a knot inside your belly.

“And daddy’s too,” Natasha murmurs in your other ear, as she thrusts the strap more violently. Her hips are in sync with Wanda’s, both cocks being shoved inside your holes at the same time. Your hands grab Wanda’s waist, scratching her bare skin with the tight grip of your nails.

Your groans get progressively louder, as your butt cheeks bounce with the vehement fucking. Natasha keeps whispering sweet nothings in your ear, and Wanda hums to Natasha fantasies and words in the other. Your body is wholly consumed by the two women you feel the utmost passion for.

You pleadingly look at Wanda’s face on your side, silently begging for release. “What’s that baby? Wanna cum for mommy?”

You nod eagerly in reply, thinking that maybe this time, you could cum without any more resistance. Deep down, you wanted to be denied as well, though.

Natasha turns your face towards herself, holding your chin firmly. “Not yet, baby. Let daddy play with her fucktoy. You’re so tight around daddy’s cock.” Without much warning, two of her fingers part your lips and choke your throat, while Wanda pulls the collar around your neck. Your nails dig deeper into Wanda’s skin.

Wanda uses her other hand to pinch your nipple, and flicks the hardened bud to stimulate your entire nervous system. God it feels so good. Beads of sweat run down your bodies, and the dark room is getting hotter by the minute. The knot inside your belly keeps tightening.

Once satisfied with the gagging, Natasha retracts her digits from your mouth, a coat of saliva dripping around them. She uses the same fingers to flick your clit in circular motions.

With a hoarse voice, you beg once again, “Please, daddy, please mommy, want to cum, please.” You can feel your pussy clenching around the dick.

They both exchange a glance and give you a smirk. “Cum for mommy and daddy, slut,” Wanda instructs authoritatively. As soon as you feel yourself reach your climax, both of the straps ejaculate inside of you. The warm liquids of your bodies infuse your pussy and your ass, and drip down from the base of the strap-ons.

After one final thrust, Natasha pulls out, letting you fall back in her arms. But Wanda is too focused into dumping all the liquids inside you, that she fucks the trickling cum back into your cunt. “Mommy please… hurts…”

“Easy darling, mommy just wants you to be her little cum dump,” Natasha whispers from behind you. Both her hands cup your breasts, groping them gently with her palms. You keep whimpering and squirming, till Wanda slows down and pulls the faux dick out.

Her breathing is heavy after the intense fucking, so she closes her eyes and smiles, wiping the sweat off her forehead. She immediately leaps forward to kiss you sloppily, almost tossing you, as well as Natasha, over. She watches the two of you make out adoringly but doesn’t resist grasping Wanda’s jaw and kissing her too. Her hands do not move away from your tits, softly kneading them as you lean back against her, taking a deep breath.

Wanda rubs your clit softly, now a swollen nub. The action jolts your whole body as her fingers churn up the exuding juices from your pussy. You moan incoherently, mumbling for her to stop. “Daddy please…” you plead to Natasha as well. They both pull away from the kiss and smirk at you, and Wanda ceases her fingering.

You look at Natasha, head tilted towards your left. Her gaze catches yours in the moment, as you both pant heavily. Your fingers entwine with Natasha’s hair, tucking it back and planting a smooch on her lips. Towards your right, waits Wanda, for her turn too.

It just all makes more sense without words.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #Wanda maximoff x you #Wanda maximoff x y/n #Wanda maximoff smut #Natasha Romanoff #Natasha romanoff x reader #Natasha romanoff x you #Natasha romanoff x y/n #Natasha Romanoff smut #wandanat #wandanat x reader #wandanat smut

[kkuzushi]

Haii! Ive read your sub Heizou fic and omg... I kept thinking about scaramouche while reading it. I've also taken a liking to your page! Your writing is soo goodnendksjdnxw sub scaramouche fic when? 🥰🥰🎀🎀

(I feel like in going to interact with your page alot so can I be 🎸 anon? >_<)

“ 𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗮 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 ”

✦ 𝗰haracters: sub!scaramouche x dom!reader

✦ 𝗰w: mirror sex (at the end), implied orgasm denial, implied overstimulation, slight choking, cock can be interpreted as strap

✦ 𝘄ord count: 1.02k

✦ 𝗻otes: You’re always welcome to my page, lovely 🎸. This is written especially for you. <3

It became a routine for Scaramouche to send pictures of himself when wearing different outfits. It was just a time to time update, like you had asked, but he had gotten unexpectedly used to it.

For a man who has impeccable fashion taste, you would always shower him with compliments with every picture he sent—because of that, he saw it as a way to get your attention.

As usual, you received a notification from Scaramouche and it was a mirror shot. The picture was enough to make you smile but what took your attention was the message he sent after it.

"It's been a week, when are you coming over?"

Scaramouche had gotten clingy as well after establishing a relationship.. or maybe there's something he's after.

"My schedule's packed for this week, maybe by the end of the month we get to spend time again."

You replied, which he immediately read. It took a while for him to respond as it turns out, he was preparing another picture for you. Only this time, his shirt was lifted up, his teeth biting on the fabric to expose his stomach.

"How about right now?" He sent with the picture.

You could almost read where he's going along with this but you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

After a few back and forth bickering, his pictures and messages had only gotten more and more explicit.

"My bed's missing you."

"Wanna show me what 34+35 is equal to?"

"Something wants to be filled and it's not my expectations."

If only he knew how much you actually wanted to rail him right now. If your schedule wasn't so packed, you'd be having your way with him.

Though who said you can't? It didn't take long for you to arrive at his place, a sight you could never get tired of unfolding right before you.

Scaramouche's nails clawed your back, almost holding for dear life as you mindlessly pounded him to oblivion.

"Wait..! Too full~!!" His grip around you tightened as he squealed with every thrust you give him.

"For someone so teasing, you sure can't take a lot," You commented, grabbing his thighs to push back, spreading it out even more.

Scaramouche's eyes narrowed down at you, biting his lips gently before speaking, "I didn't expect that simple words would provoke you."

His statement made you chuckle before closing the distance between the two of you. His legs spread apart as you pushed your cock all the way inside, resting close to his prostate, making him squirm from the sensation.

"It didn't provoke me, Scara," you cooed to his ear, "It only motivated me."

Before he could respond, you bucked your hips, finally hitting his prostate. Scaramouche's eyes widened as he lets out what could only be described as a scream.

"ngAHh~!! ♡ ♡" His back arched from the sudden thrust to his prostate, a hoarse moan was forced out of him, eyes rolling back from the pleasure.

Your back has been marked to the core by his nails, it was painful yet you enjoyed the feeling—after all, it was the result of having your way with him.

Scaramouche's thighs starts to tremble, his head rolling back as moans after moans stream out of his throat.

Just the way his body reacts to his prostate getting abused turned you on, how could you ever get tired of fucking this man?

"Do I fuck you good, Scaramouche?" You grunted, hands on his waist to keep yourself moving on the same pace. The only answer given to you were mewls, poor Scaramouche can't even think properly as he seems to be seeing stars now.

"aH~ aH!~ goofmgnh~ sho goodddh~!! ♡" A few minutes after your question, Scaramouche starts to ramble, his tongue lolling out of his mouth with every word he says.

His cock was leaking precum, spilling all the way to his thighs. If he wasn't so focused on having your permission, he would've finished since then—but only good boys get that, right?

The sound of skin hitting skin was loud as you fucked Scaramouche harshly yet his moans were still louder than anything else. His pretty body was filled with fresh bitemarks and hickeys, even on places that's exposed easily. Not to worry, he won't be complaining anytime soon.

"fuck..! fuck! mnghah..!" He squealed as he watched your cock disappearing with every thrust you give, almost like his hole was sucking it in. His inner walls tightened, receiving a moan from you, "hagh- g-gonna cum!~ ♡"

His words served as a signal as you swiftly changed his position, turning him around to make him face his bedroom mirror. Scaramouche's eyes widened after realising your intentions.

"N-not like thisfhAHH~♡♡!!" Words were cut once his felt your cock fucking him in a rougher pace. You pinned his hands on his back, your free hand crawling up and wrapping around his neck so tenderly.

"Look at yourself as you cum," You whispered to his ear, your eyes staring at his in the mirror. The way you talked to him didn't help, everything was deliberately turning him on, his back arching further as he felt his body grow weak.

He was close, so close to finishing. Scaramouche knew that if he disobeyed this one last command from you, it's back to square one. His eyes never left the mirror, scanning the way his body gets pounded by you. The sight alone was making him scream in pleasure.

"mngha- cummi— i'm cummingghhaHH~!! ♡♡♡" Scaramouche's eyes rolled back, a long moan flowing out his mouth as his cock squirted cum all over the place, even reaching the mirror.

Once the white fluid stops spilling out of him, his volume decreased. What could only be heard now are heavy pants from him, his chest heaving with every breath he took.

"We're not yet done," his eyes widened once more as he hears you speak down to his nape, "You still have to make me cum, remember?"

Exhaustion has never felt this pleasing, Scaramouche knew he was in for a long night, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

#Genshin Impact #genshin impact #Genshin #genshin #genshin x reader #sub scaramouche #kunikuzushi #sub kunikuzushi #scaramouche x reader #sub scara #sub scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #genshin scara #smut #smutfic #the balladeer #wanderer #modern scara #modern scaramouche

[leviismybby]

Flashbacks

Parining: Levi Ackerman x fem!reader

Warning: NSFW 18+, minors dni. Levi being soft for the reader in between, creampie, multiple orgasms, oral f! receiving

Part 2

Part 3

The sun hit Levi's face as he walked through the training ground rubbing his neck as he goes. He feels eyes on him, it's normal he is the captain but knowing the things he did with you in his office last night, he feels like he is walking a walk of shame.

He stands next to Hange who gives instructions on how to catch a titan. Everyone is listening closely except Levi who can't get you out of his head.

Flashbacks start to play in his head and he becomes thankful that everyone is paying attention to Hange.

"Levi.....harder..." You whimper beneath him digging your nails into his back. He growls at your request, picking you up with your legs wrapped around him he slams your back against the nearest wall making you moan.

He goes faster, harder, just like you wanted him to. Feeling your walls clench around his cock Levi hisses burying his head into your neck and biting the skin. He told you before that you shouldn't mark each other but that was out the window as soon as he got to kiss your skin.

Nails scrape even deeper down his back, Levi is sure that you drew a little bit of blood but he doesn't care. It just feels so damn good, he doesn't want to stop but he will have to at some point, you're looking exhausted.

How many times did you cum? 7? 8? He can't reflect how many times those thighs closed around his head or how many times your warm walls squeezed him.

"Earth to Levi." Hange snaps her fingers in front of his face, surprised at how distant he seems to be. "What?" Levi bluntly says scoffing at the brown-haired woman.

"Do you want to explain to them how you caught that one titan a few months ago?" All eyes are on him again, he feels like his face might give him away.

"Alright....." He starts to describe how he and his squad captured that titan but in the back of his mind, your moans are replaying in his head.

On the other side of the ground, you're cleaning the floor, legs sore, you're surprised that you even got out of bed this morning. You scrub the floor, trying to ignore the ache in your entire body, his every mark can be felt on your skin.

"Oww.." You grit your teeth as the ODM gear presses right onto one of the bite marks. "Are you alright, name?" Petra asks, genuinely concerned about you. She watched you struggle the whole morning, it looked like your legs were about to give up at any given moment.

"I'm fine just.....sore." You continue scrubbing the floor, trying not to make her worry even more. "Hmm must be from that training yesterday, Captain Levi never goes easy on us." You have never been more grateful for a turtleneck shirt than you are now, Petra would've figured it out in a second if she saw your neck.

Yeah.... training. You want to hit yourself in the head as activities from last night flood your mind.

"Gonna be a good girl?" You nod your head as Levi kisses down your body, his hands slowly parting your legs the lower his mouth goes. When he reaches your underwear, he looks up at you and you might just go crazy. He looks like he wants to ravish you and he does.

His lips trace the inside of your thighs and he bites hard on the flesh, your upper body is filled with his marks as it is but to Levi, it wasn't enough.

His bites get closer and closer to your cunt and you pull on his hair a little, letting him know that you're impatient.

"Naughty girl, can't wait for even a minute hmm?" You bite your lip at his words, never in your life have you had a man bring you this much pleasure and he isn't even halfway done with you.

"But since you have been good......" He slowly takes your underwear off, his cock twitches as he sees how wet you are."..I'll give you what you want after all she is desperate."

He slaps your cunt a few times before burying his head between your thighs. Your back arches off his table but he is quick to pin your hips down. His tongue feels so good, he knows what he is doing.

"Fuck. Fuck." You curse, eyes getting watery when you feel him suck on your clit, your hands in his hair messing up his perfect undercut. He is a sight to behold.

"Name did the floor do something wrong or..?" Petra asks, you have been aggressively scrubbing the same spot over and over again.

"Oh sorry." Your cheeks grow red, way to go. Not only did you have sex with your commanding officer but now you want to do it again, it just felt so right.

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

"Any questions?" Levi asks and when he gets no reply back, he turns to Hange. "If we are done, I have to report to Erwin."

"We are, you can go." She smiles at him but he just turns his back to her, heading back inside without another word. Levi doesn't have to report to Erwin, he just couldn't stand being there because all that's on his mind is you.

Levi hurries through the corridor to his office. Once he is inside, he leans his head against the door a sigh leaving his lips. Damn you and your perfect body and those lips...you aren't making things easy for him.

He sits back in his chair and notices a white piece of fabric on the floor. "What..." He mutters and as he takes it into his hands, his eyes go wide, it's your blouse that he ripped last night.

His fingers play with the hem of your shirt as he stands between your open legs, your eyes look everywhere but him. Levi grabs your chin with his hands making you look at him.

"Shy now are we? Keep those pretty eyes on me." He commands and you nod but that isn't the answer Levi wanted so he plants a nice slap on your ass.

"Is that how you answer to your superior? Talk." His hands are roaming your body but he isn't anywhere where you need him. "Yes sir, I will keep my eyes on you."

"There you go, atta girl." He leans in kissing your neck as his cold fingers run under your blouse tracing your spine delicately. Levi is harsh with words but the way that he touches you makes you think that he is doing it more for your pleasure than his own.

The truth is that Levi wants your eyes on him, he wants you to see a side of him that he doesn't let anyone else see. It's pathetic how much he craves your eyes at times, to him they make time stop and he can get lost in them. This is exactly why he is harsh on words with you, he doesn't want you to get the wrong idea. It won't go anywhere beyond sex. He has to make sure it doesn't.

As his lips kiss and bite at your neck, you moan pulling Levi closer to you. "Please Levi, take it off." He pulls back a little bit just enough to get a glance at your eyes and make sure that you're okay with this before he continues.

Levi doesn't see anything in them but desperation and that's all he needs. He dives back into your neck and collarbones as his hands harshly rip your shirt, a piece of it falling beside his chair but both of you are too eager to notice.

The blouse finally falls off your body and Levi wastes no time as his hands squeeze your breasts through your bra. You tug at his shirt in response and Levi is quick to take it off his body.

He will never forget the way your eyes devoured him, it's like you saw nothing else at that moment but him and it made Levi feel a certain way.

Putting the piece of your blouse away, he lets his fingers run through his hair. Why? He had you like he always wanted to have you, so why does he want to do it again?

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

When you are finally done with cleaning, you and Petra head back. She didn't question your weird behavior further, maybe it was just one of those days or maybe it was something else entirely, either way, she doesn't want to be annoying.

"I'm going to change real quick, my uniform is really dirty." Petra nods and you two part ways. You head back up the stairs that lead to your room, Levi on your mind the entire time.

Making sure to lock the door behind you, you slowly pull your turtleneck off to reveal your marked skin. There are bruises on your hips, plenty of marks on your upper body and neck, your thighs have little bruises from Levi's fingers.

Your eyes land on one particular hickey on your shoulder and you blush as the memory creeps in.

It's hot, his skin sticks to yours as he pounds into your cunt repeatedly. There isn't a place in his office that you two didn't have a go at. You fucked on his desk, his chair when you rode him, his wall, his office sofa and now you're on the floor in front of the fireplace.

Both of you are sweaty, the heat of the fireplace only adding to the atmosphere. You have come so many times on his cock that you can't even think straight anymore. You're breathing heavily not having the energy to moan anymore, Levi doesn't either it seems, as his head is buried into your shoulder.

Your legs are parted by his hands, nails digging into his biceps. Yeah, you two will have a lot to worry about after it's all done. You painted each other in marks like an artist paints a canvas, each bite and bruise has a different color.

"I'm close." He whispers in your ear kissing your forehead lightly. His thrusts start getting more passionate, you swear that you can feel him in your stomach as that coil starts to burn in your abdomen.

"Levi, cum inside me please." Levi's eyes go wide, he came either in your mouth or somewhere else on your body but neither of you are in the right mind to think about the consequences that could bring so he listens to you.

Levi pulls you in closer, so close that you feel his heartbeat against your chest. You kiss him and he moans against your lips before pulling away and biting into your shoulder as his cum fills you up.

You pant heavily, foreheads pressed against each other, eyes closed. It's clear as day that this wasn't just a fuck, Levi was making love to you.

Shivers run down your spine, there is no way that you'll ever look at your captain the same way, not after he held you in his arms like you were the only thing that mattered.

You change into a different uniform with the same turtleneck shirt. There are a lot of things you thought while joining the scouts, will you survive, what if you manage to save humanity, being worried about covering the love bites your captain gave you, wasn't one of them.

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

Levi sits in his office finally doing some paperwork to ease his mind a little but all that he can think about is you. What if he went too far? What if you regret it? What if his feelings for you only get stronger? What if this drives you away from him? Levi can't stand that thought.

There are too many unanswered questions in the air but one thing is for certain, both of you would repeat yesterday if you could.

_________________________________________

Taglist: @youre-ackermine @the-milk-anon @sixpennydame @yakaaamoz @levisbrat25 @notgoodforlife @levisgreyeyes

#levi #levi ackerman #aot levi #captain levi #attack on titan #levi x reader #levi attack on titan #levi smut #levi x you #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x y/n smut #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman smut #levi aot #shingeki no kyoujin levi #levi x fem!reader #levi x reader smut #levi x y/n

[sellenite]

fall leaves

thinking about angsty sex with Satoru as you're still grieving the loss of Suguru (after his defection)

pairing: Satoru Gojo x reader, mentions of Suguru Geto x reader (in the past) contents: angst, fem!reader, PinV sex (unprotected), not thoroughly proofread word count: 944 notes: takes place post Suguru's defection, so all characters are aged up to be approximately college-aged AN: sorry if this isn't that good—I was feeling an itch to write something angsty and came up with this kind of fast <3 I want to start writing more emotional pieces but sometimes I feel I lack the proper words/ talent, but I am trying :') MDNI | 18+

It had been a month since Suguru Geto defected from Jujutsu society—thirty sleepless nights you had spent counting the tiles on the ceiling, their edges blurred in the dim light that filtered through the window.

Suguru’s absence left a void in your chest, a cold sharpness that bled into your spine where the warmth of his hands used to touch. The bed of your dorm room felt all too small without the length of his body to fill the space beside you—a side of the bed you still hadn’t dared to sleep on, as if leaving it open would allow the chance for him to slip back in one night.

Night after night, you waited for a miracle, your breath catching in your throat and eyes darting to the window at the slightest stir of the wind outside. But Suguru never came. You kept the window open, even as the late summer turned to fall.

The circles under your eyes looked more like bruises, deep purple and blended with the perpetual smudge of black mascara that graced your waterline. Your wet eyes and shaky hands never stopped you from applying it in your morning routine, clinging to any sense of normalcy you still had left.

None of the others seemed to be faring much better. You had all thrown yourselves into your work; for Shoko, it was shifts at the infirmary, and Satoru was gone for weeks at a time with new missions. You accompanied Nanami on some of his, not deemed strong (or maybe stable) enough to go on any on your own.

You weren’t sure who initiated it, in all honesty, but you still found yourself pressed against the cold wood of your door. The kiss was tentative at first, lips meeting slowly, noses nudging against each other—a taste of innocence. But then came a second kiss, and then a third, and then your hands were laced through the tufts of his white hair, lips parting and tongues clashing as you chased the warmth of one another with a desperate kind of want. Satoru’s hands were on your hips, pressing you to his chest with a force that made you cling to him just as hard—as if either of you let go, the other would be swept away.

You fumbled with each other’s clothes in the dark, movements needy and unpolished as you backed your way closer to your bed. You ran your hands over the skin of Satoru’s chest, the feeling of his hungry mouth on yours keeping you grounded, distracted from the feelings of betrayal that threatened to claw through your chest.

He laid you back onto your sheets, bodies flush against each other—skin to skin—as his lithe fingers worked the elastic of your panties down your thighs. (His fingertips were softer than Suguru’s, missing the familiar callouses you had grown to love—the tenderness of his touch despite the roughness of his skin.) Satoru bit down hard into your lip, drawing you from your thoughts, and you whined against his mouth before his tongue swiped across to soothe the wound.

He filled you, soothed you in a way only the touch of another human’s skin against yours could, and you let him—breathed him in and gave your body to him as he rolled his hips into you, needy and rough. Your nails dug into his shoulders, and he hissed, returning it with a bite to the junction of your neck. The pain echoed through you, and your hips arched into him, giving as he took from you. It was selfish entirely, the way you fucked each other as you thought of someone else.

Satoru’s thrusts were deep and fast, bristling with a passion he typically only showed when he killed. But your body welcomed it so pliantly, the heat of all of his anger and heartbreak and betrayal bleeding into your own. He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he caged your body between his arms, grunting into your skin as he chased the distraction of a fractal piece of euphoria.

Your body tensed along with his pleasured sobs mixed with pain and heartbreak that dulled with every harsh thrust. It wasn’t healing, but you found a numb kind of bliss in the act of letting yourself be fucked. Satoru brought a hand between your legs, circling harshly at the bud of your sex, and your back arched as you pressed into him with a whimper.

You could feel the heat beneath your skin turn to a boil, the pressure mounting inside of you, and the ache in your chest came back, sharp and coiling around your throat as the band of pleasure in your core threatened to snap. You came with a muffled sob, tears streaming down your cheeks as Satoru gave a few more thrusts before he stilled inside of you, his face still buried in your shoulder.

When his eyes finally met yours, he didn’t comment on your tears—only regarded you soundlessly before he flipped you over, letting you rest your head against his chest. You sniffled back the remnants of your tears until you were calm enough to get cleaned up. Satoru ran a rag gently along the skin of your thighs, and you smiled softly at the sentiment.

You let him stay with you that night, pressed together in a bed that was much too small for two people, the same way you and Suguru used to lay. He held you to him, pressed gentle kisses into your hair, and you closed your eyes to savor the warmth as you drifted off into a hazy space somewhere between rest and death.

#angst #satoru gojo angst #gojo satoru angst #satoru angst #gojo angst #satoru gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru smut #gojo smut #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru x reader #satoru x you #satoru x y/n #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

[hotluncheddie]

Day 3: 24/7 dynamic

"Angel"

Ao3

wc: 1.5k | rated: M | tags: Sub Eddie Munson, established relationship, kas!eddie, blood drinking, handjob

written for @subeddieweek <3

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Soon. 

6 1 5 

Soon. 

Always. 

Home. 

-

The house windows glow deep red like a womb. 

Steve used to hate it, coming home every night to his parents big empty house. He kept the lights on wherever he was there. Attempting to keep the darkness away, the monsters out. The nail bat by his side. 

Steve is never alone now though, and never had to fear again. 

The house is his. Property market gone along with the maws that opened across Hawkins. So his parents left everything in town to him, as they hurried to leave. A practical gift, more to help themselves, then to give Steve anything. 

But he was grateful, in ways, for their absence. 

Because now the house meant safety, and refuge. For him, and others. 

Home. 

He slips through the front door, bathed in a hazy light that fills the room and draws patterns across the walls. Lamps of varying sizes are scattered across the whole house, all covered in scarves and bandanas to dull and tinge, make the walls a deep red, or sweet pink. 

He drops his keys in the bowl and puts his coat on the hook. Sighing the day away. Focusing on where he is now. 

Home. Where he is met, like always, by his sweet thing. 

His fallen angel. 

Eddie sits kneeled by the door, monstrous leathery wings now extensions of his shoulder blades, clawed hands and feet curled against the carpet. He’s impossibly strong, now, broad and muscled beneath his moon pale skin. Tattoos stretched and warped, ears pointed and tinged grey like his fingers and feet. 

But he’s crouched, curled, kneeling so prettily. Defenceless in his submission, his adoration. Face open with shy excitement for Steve’s return. 

Steve smiles at him. He’s perfect. 

Eddie’s mouth parts and his tongue laves over his lips, sharp fangs glinting with spit. 

Stepping closer makes Eddie sit a little straighter, hands pressing down on his thighs, loose shorts ridden up into his hip crease, sharp nails digging into skin. Presenting himself. 

Steve’s heart clenches, he’s learned so well, so quick to be good. 

For Steve, Eddie is always good. 

He lets two fingers slip past pink lips, into the impossible heat of Eddies changed mouth. Spit thicker, medicinal, and his teeth bite down playfully. His throat purring and pupils blooming so big his eyes look black. 

Steve hums, pleased. Pets over Eddie’s jaw and presses his thumb into the sharp point of his tooth, teasing - pulse point against fang - before walking off to the kitchen to make dinner. 

Eddie follows, staying low on his haunches and clawed hands. Long hair swaying and wings flapping lightly. 

When Eddie emerged, again, bloody and weakened by the fight against Vecna, against the monster of the upside down. Eddie, mutilated and broken, back from the dead. He was still blindingly beautiful, to Steve.

But being alone in hell, being hurt, had made Eddie skittish and quick to lash out. Skulking amongst the shadows of Steve’s house, hidng, not wanting to be near anyone. 

For a while he wouldn’t leave the furthest dark corner of the kitchen, wound tight and scared - he’d stay in his nest of blankets, eyes searching and alert to any small sound. 

Until Steves steady presence coaxed him out, or Eddie grew braver. Either way they were both hole up in the house, alone for months, hiding and recovering. The party staying connected through walkie-talkies, not wanting to draw attention to Eddie by coming over. All having wounds to heal and family to see. Rebuilding themselves before attempting to deal with the rest of Hawkins. 

So Steve and Eddie were thrust together. In this big empty house. Left to rest and lick their wounds, and eventually, each others. 

Now Eddie doesn’t like to leave Steves side, if he can help it. Kneels by the island while Steve cooks. Always watching, waiting, placated by Steve being there, back in their home. 

Steve bristled at first, once Eddie began to explore. Didn't like eyes always being on him. But Eddie relaxed so much more quickly, with Steve staying where Eddie could protect him. 

So then Eddie had to earn it, his constant presence around Steve. Had to be good. Listen to Steve and obey, to help keep them both safe - from what could come back out of the ground, and from the outside, the people. 

And now, after time and care and love, Eddie’s always good. Always waiting to be told what to do, so he can feel safe. And Steve is always ready to guide, so he can feel used, needed. 

Steve finishes the dinner and sits on the couch, putting something he doesn’t greatly care about on the tv, sound so low he can’t really hear it. 

Eddie by his feet. 

He prefers to stay low to the ground, only perched up high if there are a lot of people over. Climbing the bookcase or choosing the couch armrest over the seat. Wants to be where he can see, and observe. He just always wants to see, to move, to be where he chooses. After what Vecna did, Steve thinks. 

But mostly he chooses to be by Steves side, in Steves space, Steves presence. And for that they both prefer him low. Feet on the ground, knees near the floor, face easy for Steve to reach, to pet. 

They tried to get him to sit and stand and dress more like he used to. But it made Eddie furrow his brow and bite his lip. Until his patients stretched thin and he slunk away to hide once more. Uncomfortable and uncoordinated.

He needed to be adapted to, not reversed. 

They’ve grown from that, found boundaries and safe spaces and now they have a routine that works for both of them. 

Steve goes out and helps, rebuilds the town, sees the people he loves, who he needs to see to sleep soundly at night. 

And Eddie waits. Waits for Steve to come home, at 6:15. When eddie is allowed to be close, and watch. All night. 

‘What did you do today angel?’ Steve asks, letting his tired muscles relax into the couch. 

‘Book’ Eddie rasps, syllables lilting and still a little uncanny. Steve nods. ‘Letter.’ comes next - written words coming back to Eddie much quicker, the feel of a pen, the shape of a sentence. He had lost speech but not his words, not letters just their sounds. 

And Steve himself has quieted, lost elements of his speech. He needs it less, doesn’t feel inclined to share. Not when Eddie seems to read him so clearly, not when so much pain and hurt has happened around him. In his safety, it seems, silence is a much enjoyed gift. For them both. 

Eddie dips his head, pulling his eyes from Steve’s gaze. ‘Nest.’ He speaks softly, pointed ears flushing with blood. 

Steve hums and finishes his food, drinks his water. He turns to Eddie, placing one finger under his chin, reconnecting their sight. ‘Show me.’ Steve whispers, commands, tugging once on the little metal ring at the front of Eddie’s black collar. 

‘Oh.’ Steve breaths, removing his shirt and settling down amongst the blankets and pillows and clothes. Eddie must’ve spent days slowly collecting, gathering and building this soft little tomb of a space. Out in a far most corner of the house, a room now mostly unused, but claimed now none the less. 

Steve brings Eddie close to him, pulling him from where he crouches at the side, waiting, unsure. Settling Eddies bigger frame between the v of his legs, pulling Eddies face close, down amongst the tangle of soft things. 

He kissed Eddie’s cheek, hand strong and firm on the back of Eddie’s collard neck. ‘Drink now.’ Steve murmurs, pulling Eddie’s lips to the soft skin of his pulse point. Eddie opens his mouth, letting his sharp teeth free. ‘That’s it, for being so good, so good for me.’ Steve praises, softly, tucking Eddie closer. 

Steve can’t help the sharp inhale of breath as Eddie’s teeth cut and bite. His hot tongue laving up and drinking. Warm, and wet. 

Eddie makes a high noise in his throat, he would get so nervous at the beginning, once Steve realised this was something Eddie needed, something they both wanted. A vulnerable and sacred privilege for Eddie, the act of consumption. Allowed to survive from Steves being, devout. 

‘Stop.’ Steve instructs, feeling the loss of blood prickle the tips of his fingers, more than enough for tonight. 

Then his hands wander, as they are wont to do. Exploring each others bodies still very much a gift of their entwining love. Steve slips past Eddie’s loose shorts. palm firm and slick on Eddie’s now familiar, but still changed cock. It’s thicker, wilder, ringed grey like his clawed fingers and toes. 

Eddie snuffles in closer, a whining chittering cry leaving his throat. Steve soothes him through it, feeling as Eddie spills all over his hand. ‘That’s it, my fallen angel. Mine’ Steve says into Eddie’s hair. Feels him come to rest boneless in their embrace. 

Eddie noses behind Steves ear, smelling him and licking over the skin. One of his clawed hands sliding over Steves hip and up his side, coming to rest over his heart. 

Lightly, he presses the pointed nail of his finger into Steve’s hairy pec. Eddie spelling out y-o-u-r-s in neat little scratches. Drawing it into Steve’s skin, not leaving marks, just spelling it out in the white ink pressure of his flowing blood. Into the beating of his heart, into his very marrow. 

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Tag List: @pearynice @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @scoops-aboy86 @chickensinrainboots @cheesedoctor @marvel-ous-m

#:) #hotlunch #my fic #sub eddie week #subeddieweek #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #kas!eddie #sub eddie munson #<3 #kas eddie in a collar oof

[beom-s-author]

txt reaction-when you failed at your exam

Warning: crying,angst,fluff,comforting

Choi Yeonjun

You had an anatomy exam.

You memorized 3 books of 1000 pages. You were very confused. You studied without sleeping all night. You came home from school and memorized it without taking a break or eating. During this process, Yeonjun was always by your side. He supported you and respected you. Sometimes he would prepare fruit plates for you. After taking and passing the exam, you critiqued it with Yeonjun. You were expecting an average grade, although not very high. At least you were sure it would pass. You worked hard and you think you deserved it. You and Yeonjun did everything to distract yourself until the results were announced. Even pranked Beomgyu. However, the disappointment you felt when the exam was announced was indescribable. You failed the class. You burst into tears when it was revealed . "Honey, I am sure you will pass next time. You will work harder. Please don't cry anymore." He tries to ease you but you were so sad. At least there would be a rescue test. He knows you will pass after that. He was trusting you a lot. Even more than you family. You were his ambitious and hardworking girl.

Choi Soobin

You had a very intense exam. It was so difficult to go through this that you started working a month in advance, but the holidays intervened and you wanted to spend more time with Soobin. You organized a few trips together, which caused you to slack off. You took the exam. You were biting your nails from stress. You were waiting for a result with hope. You remembered a few things from your old studies, but it wasn't enough. When you left the exam, Soobin picked you up and you went to your dorm. When the guys asked about your exam, you told them you did poorly.

When the exam was announced a few days later, you failed. Instead of crying, you promised yourself to work. When Soobin saw the exam result, he only understood you. You worked on the subjects you couldn't do together. The problem was that Soobin didn't understand organic chemistry at all. You already understood it when you were explaining it to him. In this way, you got a very high score in the make-up exam. You had a small celebration with Soobin that night. Soobin was proud of you.

Choi Beomgyu

You were taking a bad exam. Beomgyu was even more annoying this period. While you were studying, he was disturbing you and leaving. When you said it was important, he disappeared but came back 20 minutes later to annoy you. Even though you kicked him out, he was there. Like an annoying mosquito. When you took the exam, you realized that you failed from the first question. When you returned home and sat on the sofa, Beomgyu came to home He seemed to understand what was happening. He hugged you and gave you a kiss on your cheek.

When you turned to him and smiled, he did the same to you. When you held his hand and looked at him, he turned towards you and said, "It doesn't matter. I will hire a private teacher for you, so you will understand better. When you get a higher score in the other exam, I will be so proud of you that you cannot understand."

"Thank you Beomgyu, you are very thoughtful. I am thankful to you. You'd better stay by my side. I'm not used to being without you.." He giggled at your words. He hugged you and kissed your lips. "Anything for my princess."

#txt fluff #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu fluff #hueningkai #tomorrow x together #txt fanfiction #txt hard hours #txt imagines #txt reaction #txt scenarios #txt edits #txt #beomgyu x reader #choi yeonjun x reader #choi beomgyu scenarios #choi soobin #soobin txt #soobin x reader #yeonjun x reader

[myaswriting]

oh baby !

dad!trevor zegras x black!fem!reader

friends to lovers to parents

warnings: swearing, kissing, baby, talk of birth, pregnancy, young pregnancy. young parents, traditional parents (of reader), references to smut no actual smut

author’s note: hello everyone. i’m so sorry i’ve been so inactive i had emergency surgery last week so i’ve been dealing with recovery as well as the days leading up to it i was very sick. but!! here is some dad trevor to brighten the day!! i hope you guys enjoy.

trevor was always a goofball. he never took anything serious. this became a problem as he got older. he knew when he was very talkative and liked to crack jokes. he was amazing at it after all. he knew he could get out of anything by simply just, talking or telling a few one liners to save the day.

you not so much. you were dramatic, sue me. you worried about everything. it was in your nature. trevor was never careful. he was never aware of how serious things can get. you solved problems with reason and strategy. you never had a reason to not stress.

trevor was your best friend. the only man you’ll ever let that close to you. you were childhood friends who did everything together. of course you had your girl friends that you loved dearly, but trevor was your soulmate.

september 2019 - Boston University

you loved rainy days. you would spend all day watching movies or even reading. rainy days made you feel zen, at peace.

today was not one of those days.

you sat on the cold tile floor, makeup smeared, and tears lining the brim of your eyes. you couldn’t breathe. this couldn’t be happening.

it was one time. one fucking time.

you shakily lift the third pregnancy test you’ve taken today.

= pregnant

“fuck, this can’t be real,” you sob holding the stick close to you. you shake breathing in trying to hold your sobs in.

it was nearly twelve in the morning and you had class early. you really hope you don’t wake up your roommate but you really can’t stop sobbing. you have only been here for 3 weeks and you already fucked up. you parents were going to kill you. there was no doubt about it. the worst part of this all was the fact that you had to tell trevor.

oh trevor…

you slowly stand up from the floor and set the stick down. you open the bathroom door to see your roommate kayla staring ar you with worry in her tired eyes.

“hey babe what’s going on,” she quietly asks with a hoarse voice from sleeping.

you sniffle before hugging her. “i’m pregnant,” you sob breaking down once again. she gasps and pulls you back.

“y/n, what?” she looks up with wide eyes. you bite your lip nervously handing her the pregnancy test. she looks down at it and sucks in a breath. “it’s trevor’s?” she questions.

you had told her about your little sex adventures with your hometown best friend, not even thinking about the consequences of having raw sex. raw sex with your best friend. raw sex with someone you’re going to lose… your heart breaks at the idea of telling trevor. you don’t even want to tell anyone. you felt trapped and scared.

“he’s.going. to hate me,” you sob in broken sentences. the pounding in your head gets louder the more you cry.

kayla grabs your hands and holds them tightly. she looks into your eyes and tells you a story about her mom. you knew from over the summer and talking to her that her mother was 17 when she had her first child. things weren’t easy but she did it.

“you are so strong, trevor is a good guy,” she smiles softly holding your jaw lovingly. “he’s still your best friend, just talk to him,”

little did she know that the friend ship sailed away months ago after you started hooking up.

—

y/n

can we meet for lunch?

trev &lt;3

yeah ofc meet me at frankie’s?

y/n

yeah 11:45 don’t be late

trev <;3

yes ma’am 🫡

—

you chew your nails waiting for trevor at the cafe near campus. you look out the window and see trevor walking towards the building. he was dressed in sweats and a hoodie. god he looked so good.

trevor makes his way inside and looks for you. he smiles when he sees you sitting there. you try to cover up the fact that you’re nervous as fuck. he makes it to the table and sits down across from you smiling.

“hey cutie,” he says fixing his beanie.

“hi,” you say quickly avoiding eye contact with him.

he frowns looking at you with confusion. you were never this quiet. sure you were not as loud as trevor. no one was. but you were chatty around people who made you happy. this was odd. this wasn’t you.

“y/n what’s wrong,” he frowns deeper heart beating out of his chest. were you mad at him? was he in trouble?

you sigh feeling the tears starting to well in your eyes. you shakily breathe in and out before looking him in the eyes. “i’m going to tell you something z, you have to promise you won’t get mad,” you say holding back tears.

“yeah, yeah. of course. what’s going on?”

trevor feels sick. what could she possibly have to say. the first thing he thinks of is that you have a boyfriend and you have to stop fucking. that thought quickly brought a sour taste to his mouth. he felt a huge tang of jealousy hit his chest. no other man should have their hands on you. you were his.

you slowly lift up your purse pulling out the three tests setting them on the table. he sucks in a breath, eyes wide looking at the blue and white device on the table.

“are these…” he whispers lifting one up to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. you bite the inside of your cheek nervous.

“yeah, they’re m-mine,” you whisper holding back sobs.

he feels his heart swell up with something. happiness? pride? love? he couldn’t pin point it. this was news that he never thought he’d hear, but he wasn’t one bit mad about it.

“please say something,”

“baby this.. this is crazy,” he smiles looking at you.

“what..?” you breathe a shaky teary laugh.

trevor gets up and moves into the booth with you. he grabs you and pulls you into him kissing your head a million times.

“we can do this. no, we will do this.”

april 2020

you make your way through the halls of yours and trevor’s shared apartment. waddling your way through the days. as covid 19 was taking the world by storm you and trevor have had nothing but one on one time. talking, singing, rapping, reading, you name it. anything to your belly. after 3 months into your pregnancy trevor took you out on a real date and asked you to be his official girlfriend.

your parents were not thrilled with the news. they called you all kinds of names and made you feel extremely small and stupid. they told you that if you dropped out of school they’d disown you. they even went on to say that they don’t know if they can be in your life if you choose to keep the baby and not give it up for adoption. you have cried and cried about your parents not being excepting. you worried day and night about them. heart broken at the fact they didn’t want anything to do with you.

julie and gary have been nothing but loving and supportive. they were scared at first. worried how this would affect trevor’s future. but after getting drafted they no longer worried. they knew their son could take care of you. he was a good man, he takes care of his siblings in ways that made you feel safe knowing he was going to be the father of your child.

your pregnancy was fairly easy you had little trouble. you dealt with little morning sickness and even went to the gym with trevor as often as you could.

july 21, 2020, dylan mae zegras arrives.

8lbs 3oz, 23 inches long. a perfect baby girl. she came quick and dramaticly.

you were watching tv in the living room waiting for trevor to get home. you were slowly packing things up for the big move to anaheim. you felt wettness pool in your pants. you groan thinking it was probably sweat from being 9 months pregnant and sitting with a heated blanket. you stand up slowly feeling a contraction hit you like a truck.

“no, no, no,” you cry holding your belly. “this can’t be happening,” you cry out walking towards the kitchen. you unlock your phone and call trevor. he was at weight training and wouldn’t be home for another hour.

“hello,” you hear him on the other line. just as you were about to speak another contraction hits, harder. “baby are you okay?”

you whimper out a “it’s happening,”

#trevor zegras #trevor zegras woc!fem!reader #trevor zegras x reader #anaheim ducks #mighty ducks #nhl imagine #nhl fic #trevor zegras fanfic #trevorjamie #jamie drysdale #max jones #nhl #nhl hockey #nhl fanfiction #nhl x reader #dad!au #dad! trevor zegras #trevor zegras x y/n

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hii, I'm here to drop a request~

Okay so, i have a thing for self-distrustive characters. Here's the idea: give me a self-harming hero who is too weak to act on it alone and willingly surrenders themselves to villain assuming (hoping maybe) they would torture them for information. Villain tho reluctant, doesn't hesitate to hurt the hero not too seriously tho. But for our self distrustive hero whatever the villain is doing is not enough to make them feel the relief they're seeking so~ let it slip out. Let them thoughtlessly cry out for more. And then give me a shocked villain. A concerned, regretful and lastly caring enough to treat their wounds villain. Give me an unresponsive to the villain's treatment hero. If you'd like to ass anything feel free <3

Much love to you friend, stay hydrated, we love you ~<33

It wasn’t like it didn’t hurt. 

It just didn’t hurt enough. That’s why the hoarse please had slipped from their tongue. And it was why the weak more followed. Judging from their actions, the villain hadn’t heard it right away but when the hero cried harder, the villain’s hands came to a stop. 

They’d broken three fingers, not to mention the shattered ankle. What had happened to their ankle had felt just but once the villain had moved on to their fingers, the hero had secretly begging them to break harder bones, like their collarbone or maybe even their ulna. It was sick, they knew it in their heart. It was maniacal and disturbing to feel like this.

Heroes were supposed to save people, even if their own well-being came in last. Saving themselves counted too.

The villain let go of their hand, eyes darting between the hero’s.

“What did you just say to me?” The villain’s hands went through the hero’s hair, getting a full grip of them, pulling them up.

The hero thought about their broken ankle. About how they wouldn’t be able to walk for weeks, maybe even a few months…? They always concentrated on the pain, rather than the period it took place in. By the time old pain faded, the hero always managed to get themselves into new trouble.

Letting injuries heal had never been an option. The villain let go of them.

It was hard. It was hard to lie there and accept their defeat, the fact that the villain had found out about their secret and more importantly, that they had stopped bruising the hero.

“Please,” the hero sobbed. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Their nose was running and their tears gathered together, falling down their cheeks like raindrops from the sky. Breathing was hard, their lungs felt frail from these past months and the world came crashing down around them.

When their sobs echoed from the walls, they felt truly defeated, humiliated, and the pain wasn’t enough to forget that. 

For a moment, nothing happened. Neither of them said anything. All that was left in the room were the villain’s questions and the quiet sobs the hero made. Feeling overwhelmed by the horribleness of it all, the hero rolled themselves into a little ball, crying into their torn sleeve. They were ready for everything. Ready to die, ready to be bled, to be beaten, anything.

“Hey, easy there.” Once again, the villain combed their fingers through the hero’s hair but this time it was much more gentle and softer, leaving the hero with the taste of bile on their tongue. They braced themselves for new pain, impatiently waiting for the lashing out and the violent actions but nothing of that sort came. Quite the opposite: the villain scratched their scalp softly. 

“Darling, what happened to you?” Their nails scraped across the hero’s skin, taking their time. It was oddly comfortable. Even though their muscles ached, they looked up at the villain crouching above them. 

“Please,” the hero begged again. “Please hurt me.”

The villain was silent, biting their inner cheek as if they were considering it. But when they answered with a tender “no,” all hopes the hero had were crushed. 

“Please.”

“You’re a mess. Hurting you seems to be what you want. I don’t want to give you what you want,” they explained. They wiped away a tear.  “Don’t mistake this for compassion. This is me controlling your desires. This is me taunting you.” 

They pulled the hero who had exhausted themselves and was completely defenceless into their arms. 

“And this is me wanting information. Why did you say that?” They held them close and embarrassingly enough, it dawned on the hero how touch-starved they were.

“I am so alone,” they whispered. They mumbled the words, not even believing their own mouth for saying it. No one was supposed to hear this.  “I am so alone.”

They started sobbing again. It was hopeless. The villain was the only comfort they had — even now that they weren’t hurting them.

“You will never be alone with me,” the villain said carefully. “I’ll make sure of that. Now, come on. Let’s treat your wounds.”

In all honesty, the hero had never done that. They weren’t sure if there were rules to it.

“If this is you taunting me,” the hero said, “then why do you want to treat my wounds?”

The villain gave them a grim look that didn’t leave room for protest.

“I’m asking the questions, not you.”

#I assume you meant destructive darling #have you ever watched beauty and the beast and seen the end titles where they thank Howard ashman for his work and have you ever called #your boyfriend after that and you were crying and he was like what happened so you told him that youre sad because Howard started the whole #disney renaissance with his lyrics and he died so young because of aids and his lyrics got a fucking Oscar but at that point he had died #already so he didnt even know that beauty and the beast had become the best Disney movie of all time past present and future and your #boyfriend just has to bite back his laugh because you didnt even know this guy and youre crying over him like #guys the Disney lore is too deep I could go on like this forever #writing snippet #heroxvillain prompt #heroxvillain snippet #heroes and villains #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroxvillain #an answer for an ask #request #whump

[souperbloom]

the way things go. [A.I.]

title from the song the way things go by beebadoobee

ex boyfriend!ash

part 1 of 2 | random little post breakup angst.

a/n: i’ve never written anything like this so i thought i’d give it a try— let me know what you think :) there will be a part 2 but im still unsure of what direction to take this in so if you have any suggestions feel free to drop them in my inbox!

no major cws, just a brief mention of drinking & vibes. ☻

WORDCOUNT: 3.5k

⋆⭒˚｡⋆

You around?

Sent. 2:58am

An odd buzzing from beneath your pillow stirred you awake from the deepest sleep you’ve had in weeks. Your phone buzzed once and just like that, you were awake? Couldn’t be. It had to have been some sort of sixth sense.

Call me. I miss you.

Sent. 2:59am

The silk pillowcase cradled your cheek as the buzzing continued. Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzt.

Baby, please.

Sent. 2:59am

I miss you.

Sent. 2:59am

So much.

Sent. 3:00am

It wasn’t long before the incessant buzzing frustrated you to the point of reaching beneath your pillow and yanking your phone out from under it. The harsh light made your eyes water and burn, but the notifications on the screen made them ache even more.

ASHTON: 5 New Messages.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding.

What was once a fluttering feeling in your chest, seeing his name sprawled across the screen, turned abruptly into agony. You didn’t think it would be so soon— him reaching out to you. It had been a month, almost to the day, since you and Ashton had called your three and a half year relationship quits. Things were serious enough to bring marriage into the question and suddenly, one random Tuesday night, it all came crashing down. He told you that it wasn’t you, that it was him, that it was the right person at the wrong time and all of the other painfully worn out cliches. To think that you even considered marrying him at all.

A crazy thought at three in the morning.

And even crazier when you thought about him texting you in the middle of the night. After a month of no contact.

have you been drinking?

Sent. 3:01 am

Your thumbs twiddle quickly and hit send, waiting for those three little deathly bubbles to pop up and confirm that no, you weren’t dreaming and yes, he was anxiously awaiting your reply.

ASHTON

Maybe. Maybe not.

Sent. 3:01am

His response makes you grumble; Ashton was absolutely insufferable— and even more so when inebriated. You didn’t want to deal with him right now, it was in your best interest to just ignore him and fight the thought of him right back to sleep.

But something inside of you wasn’t allowing this to be that easy.

go to bed.

Sent. 3:02am

ASHTON

Not until you’re in it.

Sent. 3:02am

that made no sense.

Sent. 3:02am

Why was it so difficult to put your phone down?

ASHTON

I don’t give a shit. I miss you.

Sent. 3:03am

You were far too tired to be entertaining his stupid desires at such an odd hour of the evening. The time was one thing, but the fact that he was drinking was an entirely new fish to fry. You knew that your actions had consequences, and those consequences were something you’d have to deal with in the morning.

stop texting me.

Sent. 3:04am

Maybe he’ll get the hint.

ASHTON

Come over?

Sent. 3:04am

Okay. Maybe not.

Your bottom lip had gone raw from the amount of biting you’d been doing to it recently, and it had yet to stop at all. It was a nervous habit you’d picked up after the breakup and you thought you were doing well at combating it by picking at your nail beds and twirling your hair— but now, these little ticks were coming out all at once.

You were a walking ball of nerves and haven’t been the same since that random Tuesday, almost a month ago.

no.

Sent. 3:05am

Look at you. Standing your ground. You were so proud of yourself.

ASHTON

Please?

Sent. 3:05am

fine.

Sent. 3:08am

Fuck.

The time it took for you to get yourself decent must’ve been some sort of world record. Because now, seemingly seconds later, you were in your car and hunched over your steering wheel. Taking deep breaths in as the cool leather pricked your balled up fists.

This fucking sucks.

You turned the key and the engine begrudgingly grumbled to a start. Even your car knew that this was a poor decision; sounding like it was about a five mile drive from completely giving up on you.

Lucky for you, Ashton’s house was only a mile away.

The dark winding road leading to Ashton’s driveway felt like an eternity. You were frigid at the thought of him sitting and waiting up for you, sitting on that deep mahogany leather couch with his head tossed back onto the cushions. His knee bobbing impatiently and the light of the TV making his face glow pale. A glass of whiskey, or whatever the fuck poison he picked nowadays, clutched in his hand and taking small sips until ice melted gradually and watered it down.

You hated how much you knew about him. How predictable he had become in your time being with him. You knew that whatever image your brain was conjuring up of him was probably true, down to the outfit he was wearing.

You didn’t bother texting him because you knew that the second his porch lights turned on, he’d be slouched against the doorframe waiting for you. As he always did. Your tires crunched against the gravel as you slowly pulled into his driveway; shaky hands and tired eyes working in tandem to park your car in the usual spot.

“Didn’t think you’d actually show up.”

The familiar voice pulls your gaze away from your slippers and just as expected, there he was.

His hair was a few inches longer, auburn and honeycomb waves colliding into a box-dyed mess. His roots were so much darker, after you had worked so hard on the touch ups and hours spent bent over the bathtub rinsing the bleach out to lighten his black dye job. All of that time was in vain.

There was an appropriate amount of stubble surrounding his cheeks, for the time you’d gone without seeing him. You were too busy admiring his face to notice that he was wearing the Keith Haring printed robe you had gifted him for Christmas.

You probably looked crazy.

“You asked me to come over,” you shrug, trying to make light of the situation.

“So… you came?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

The tension rising was palpable, despite the tasteful three feet of distance between your bodies, and the only thing you could think about now was the way his mossy eyes sparkled beneath the porch lights.

“Well,” he breaks the silence with a chuckle, “Don’t just stand there. Come inside.”

You don’t say anything else after stepping over the threshold of the house you’d spent almost four years living in. Everything was the same. And you’d imagined it as so. To any normal person, a month wasn’t a terribly long time. But the time after a breakup all seems to mesh into one long day, since stepping into his house for the final time to grab your things felt like it was yesterday.

The guitars still mounted to the wall and decorated art pieces that hung to and fro reminded you of all of the effort you’d spent making this house into a home.

“Is Calum here?” you ask about his best friend and roommate, trying to pay attention to anything else in the room but him.

“Nope. He’s out.”

“Cool.”

Ashton moves around the living room with ease, unperturbed by your presence as he glides over to the connected kitchen. “Want a drink?”

“No. Don’t plan on crashing here, if that’s what you were expecting.”

He lets out a wry chuckle at your attempt to be stern, “I wasn’t expecting anything. Just— trying to be a polite host.”

“Yeah well,” you sigh, flopping back onto that old leather couch, “You don’t have to act like I’m some stranger.”

“Stranger?” he quizzes, opening the door to his fridge as his disembodied voice echoes behind you, “What makes you think I’d treat you like a stranger?”

Your shoulders tense up at his soft words, Ashton rounds the corner back into the livingroom to join you on the couch. He hands you a glass of apple juice, and you take it.

“Thanks,” you murmur, the thought of him keeping a bottle of apple juice in the fridge for you sending a chill down your spine. Despite making fun of you for it, he always remembered that it was your favorite.

“So…” he begins, shifting on the couch to face your slouched body.

You glance over at his posture, and the familiarity of it all was making your head hurt. To think that the way someone chose to sit on a couch was causing you so much grief felt unnatural.

“...How have you been?”

“Fine. Just— living. I suppose that’s all I could really ask for.”

“Living, huh? Sounds fun. Better than dying. If you said you were dying I’d definitely be a little less excited about you showing up here. Walking corpses are not as cool as they are on TV.”

The way Ashton constantly spoke in tongues drove you up the wall. “What the fuck are you even saying?”

“Sorry, I’ve— been watching a lot of TV recently. Also I, uh— had a bit to drink.”

Yeah, no shit.

A few more moments of deafening silence pass and ultimately confuse you. You aren’t sure how silence could be something so loud but alas, whenever you looked at, heard, or even thought of Ashton since that one Tuesday night, the only thing you could hear was the sound of your own quickening heartbeat.

“Do you still have my cashmere sweater?” The thought pops into your mind randomly, as he takes a moment to admire you.

“I do. Did you want it back?”

That question pulls a dry chuckle out of you, “If I didn’t, I probably wouldn’t be asking for it.”

“Fair point. I know just where I left it, too— I’ll go get it.”

Ashton shifts to the edge of the couch to stand up, but stumbles back, due to whatever he had flowing in his system. He braces his ring-clad hands onto the leather and the metal adorning his knuckles tear down into it.

Glancing at those miscellaneous metal etchings and gemstones you’d gifted him makes you think about his infatuation with rings. And, his request for only eight of them.

Your mind flashes back to the anniversaries and milestones where he attempted to collect one for every finger. It could have been preference, or maybe he didn’t foresee enough milestones in which he’d acquire them—but you were never quite sure why he didn’t ask for ten.

He was weird in that way.

“You still wear your rings?” you ask, debating on biting your tongue after letting the question slip right out.

He stops in his tracks, as does your heart, “Of course I do. Why?”

“Dunno’,” you shrug, brushing your shoulder and letting your hand linger on your skin, “Just didn’t think you’d want to after everything.”

Ashton looks at you with intrigue; with purpose. He studies the hand of yours that had been left timidly resting on your forearm.

“Well, to ask you your own question; why wouldn’t I?”

His words hit you like a freight train and suddenly there’s a tightness in your chest that wasn’t there before. You were proud of yourself for being level headed— up until the moment you realized he was right; why wouldn’t he wear those rings?

Why wouldn’t you come over?

“Ashton?” The tightness in your chest was now spreading to your entire body, coating your limbs in this strange paralysis that always seemed to happen when you thought about him.

“Yeah?”

“I miss you, too.”

You don’t even get a moment to process how quickly you were straddling his lap, your crewneck riding up your back as his hands made an effort to explore you. The kiss was heated, sure, but you couldn’t tell if the resentment you felt towards him was meshing into your desires. Those soft little whimpers escaped his chest as you practically pinned him down onto the couch between your knees. You weren’t sure what came over you. Could’ve been his newly acquired taste for classical Hollywood cinema, or the fact that smelling his cologne felt like a breath of fresh air after a month spent locked in a tight little room.

“Ashton,” you mumble his name into his lips and they ricochet back onto yours.

“Oh, Y/N”, he hums, “How I’ve missed you, baby.”

Your tongues danced beneath the glowing of the silver screen, Casablanca being the most appropriate film to be on his television right now.

“I’ve–” your breath staggers, taking a moment to nip at his bottom lip, “I’ve missed you too. God fuckin’–”

The words you were meant to speak were entrapped by soft moans, as Ashton pulls you into his airy pajama pants. He holds you tightly, like he had never left.

“Do– do you–” He attempts to ask the question, the age-old question that had you rethinking your decision to come to his house in the first place.

“I don’t know…”

Your hand travels up to his hair and drags down to cup his cheek, the stubble slightly scratching at your palm and reminding yourself of the blisters that were left in the place of Ashton’s many, many attempts to teach you the drums. Two and a half years of consistent practice paid off.

“That’s okay,” he consoles, nuzzling his cheek into your hand, “We don’t have to do anything. We could just– lay here, y’know? Never minded it, still don’t.”

His answer surprises you. You nod and stutter, unable to form a coherent thought due to the warmth of his bare chest beneath his robe.

“Mmmh. You know what?— I change my mind.”

He chuckles, “Do you, now?”

“Yup. I want to. Gotta’ get whatever the fuck this is— out of my system.”

You couldn’t describe the way Ashton’s face morphed into that of a kicked puppy. The pain in your chest was blatantly obvious now, like a subtle pinprick every time the dim lights would catch the sparkle in his eyes.

“Out of your system?”

“I didn’t— I didn’t mean it like that,” you say; an oxymoron of sorts. Since the elephant in the room started stomping around and now, you were straddling him and tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear.

“I guess I can’t disagree with you. I’ve been missing you a lot but— I don’t know, I can’t really place what I’m feeling.”

Your lip tugs to the side, as does his. Twin looks of confusion in an effort to read each other’s faces. “Let’s just— pick up where we left off? Maybe it’ll help get your mind off the existential dread.”

“Existential dread, huh? Is that what this feeling is?” he asks, his hands running up and down your spine beneath your crewneck.

“Yeah, sure,” you swallow hard, harder than you’d intended and you choke on your words, “We can call it that.”

He whispers your name softly and the chills start running down your body. His voice was the one thing you couldn’t get over; no matter how many nights you’d spent staring at the ceiling in an effort to change that. You’d hear him calling out to you every time the wind blew and hearing him say it right in front of you felt like a slap in the goddamn face.

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“It’s a little too late for that now, don’t you think?”

You hated to be so morbid and dry but in the end, it was true. If he had wanted to give apologies where they were due, they should’ve been said the moment he called it quits.

“I figured it’s better late than never. You deserve an apology for— everything that went on.”

Your face turns cherry red, a sudden wash of anger flushing over your cheeks. You push yourself off of his chest with a force that you didn’t even know you were capable of. He jerks back, awe-stricken at the sudden change.

“Oh fuck you Ash. You’re so full of shit,” you mutter, fueled with sudden rage, “If you really wanted to apologize you’d have been at my doorstep a month ago. You don’t care about me. You only care because I’m right in front of you and looking at me hurts too much for you to ignore it.”

“You think I don’t care about you?…”

Ashton’s voice cracks and suddenly you were feeling awful for blowing up unprovoked. The notch in his forehead grows deeper as he studies your infuriated face with sincerity.

“Y/N, of course I fucking care about you. Are you kidding me? I care about you more than anything in this world.”

Another one of those pinpricks tugs at your heartstrings.

“Then why did you let me go?”

Without a moment’s notice or any sort of explanation, Ashton pulls you back into his chest and slots his lips against yours. You don’t fight it. In fact, you embrace it. Another frenzied kiss of daring tongues and roaming hands against the places that felt so familiar to the both of you.

Just as the kiss goes rogue and his lips sloppily traipse down to your jaw, you feel a small droplet roll down your cheek. One that didn’t belong to you.

A quiet sob is preceded by a sentence that rips your heart out of your chest.

“I never wanted to. I never wanted to let you go.”

“Ashton,” you murmur, feeling your eyes welling up just the same, “I—I didn’t know—”

He interrupts your thought with a string of kisses down your neck towards your chest. His hands roam with fervor, feeling you up as though you were the last thing he would ever be allowed or able to touch. You embraced his blistered hands and the way they knew every crease and divot in your body, how effortless he was at drawing you back in.

“I never knew how to get you in front of me to actually say the things on my mind but now that I have you I just— I couldn’t fight the pain in my chest when I looked into your eyes for the first time.” His rambling was trailing off into muffled sniffling and staccato phrasing; it was causing you physical pain to hear him this way.

“I just assumed you hated me. I thought you never wanted to see me again, Ash. Why didn’t you say this sooner?”

“What? No. No, I don’t hate you,” he defends, still solemn, “I just— didn’t know how to reach out. It took me a lot to swallow my pride and send you that text, Y/N… I’ve never been good at communicating.”

“Tell me about it,” you break the tension with a lighthearted hand, but remnants of your feelings for him lingered above your head like a storm cloud.

“But my actions have consequences, I’ve learned… I’d drive past your house and it’d take everything in me not to bang on your front door and drop down to my knees. Beg you to forgive me for everything I put you through… Everything I do reminds me of you in some way and— it was hard to even think about the two of us existing in the same universe without the other by our sides. It just, it didn’t feel natural—”

You felt sorrowful enough to place a kiss on his cheek as he rambled on, masking tears of your own and letting them drip down his cheek.

“— And when you told me ‘no’ after I’d asked you on a whim to come here, I thought it was over. My entire life flashed before my eyes and you weren’t in it and it just— it fucking killed me.”

“But Ashton, I’m here,” you say, watching his face deconstruct into more of a manic expression as he digressed, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know you’re here. You’re here now and— I know you always told me to live in the moment, but fuck. There’s so much left to say.”

You cup his jaw and tilt his gaze back into yours, after it had wandered behind your head as it always seemed to do.

“I’m sure there’s a lot to say but Ashton, you’ve made up your mind. That’s just… the way things go.”

Another tear falls rogue from his malachite eyes and your thumb is there to catch it. His gaze is gut-wrenching, plucking at every single one of your impulses and all of the progress you’ve made in getting over him.

“Is it too late to change that?”

Your mind starts reeling. The words you’d never thought you’d hear coming from his mouth were finally out in the open and there was no sign of him taking them back. The initial issue was his lack of communication but fuck, you didn’t know it would come back to bite you so soon.

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about sending him a simple text to meet for coffee in hopes to ‘change his mind’, but it seemed as though he was thinking about it just as much as you were. There was no point in fighting it anymore. The two of you were meant for each other. If a month of no contact was all it took for him to realize how much he needed you…

…Then maybe that random Tuesday night wasn’t the worst thing after all.

#5sos fanfic #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton 5sos #ashton irwin #ashton irwin angst #ashton irwin blurb #ashton #angst #breakup angst #i’ve never written something like this before plz be kind

[skullwillow155]

Fanfic Draft - Sanji x oc (+More than likely Zoro) Sanji and oc had a sort of relationship before the time skip was fully official and depending how I go zoro develops feelings for oc. The split starting that up. This is post time skip and only the first draft so I may rewrite this slightly. Its no means finished and there will be more adventure with everything happening.

I hope its not too bad. I haven't wrote fanfiction in years and I haven't wrote for one piece before. So it may not be brilliant yet until I get my writing groove back on but I had a small idea and wanted to start something. Inspired by a chat I was having.

Story is also on A03 if anyone wants to follow so they don't miss any updates

Part 2 is up

----------‐--------------

It had been two years since The Strawhat’s all saw each other after the incident on Sabaody and now the whole crew were finally reuniting back where it started. Jeshika couldn’t contain her excitement and if she was honest her nerves. Two years was a long time to be apart from everyone and she wondered if everything would be the same.

The anticipation was killing her as she stood on the Thousand Sunny with Nami and Robin. That had already been an emotion reunion, only just finishing hugging and crying with each other. Well the crying was mostly her and Nami but Robin was smiling. She had changed so much from when she last saw her. Her appearance was so much different but she would deal with everything later she was just grateful that she had her friends back. It was too surreal and she honestly never thought this day would come. How 3 months had turned into two years, that had broken her heart when Luffy told them to stay away but in her heart she understood that they had to get stronger. She never liked it but she trusted her captain that it was the right choice.

She got stuck in her thoughts of the last two years that a few hours passed and the sky began to get darker. She didn’t realise how long she had been in thought until Nami and Robin were sorting things out on the ship, calling to her to come with them and sort things out. She snapped out of her thought and refused the offer, not wanting to move until she saw them; instead she stood waiting impatiently for Luffy to return with Zoro and Sanji.

She wouldn’t leave the deck, waiting for her captain to return, almost wondering if they would. She didn’t to lose them again not when she was this close to having everyone back together again. She bit her lip and sighed, feeling the anxiety bubbling up. She knew things never went to plan with them but she hoped this was one of the days where she could just have a little bit of peace. Waiting on the ship was agonising. She kept tapping her feet on the ground and biting her nails, feeling herself get more frayed as the minutes turned to hours. All she wanted was to be reunited with everyone and she wanted to see both Zoro and Sanji. Her heart aching at that thought.

After what felt like hours she finally heard a light holler in the distance before seeing Sanji wave her way. His eyes going wide as he looks over. “Ahhhh~~ Jeshika – Swan” He hollered and waved happily, a pool of blood leaking from his nose, he goes to cover that and his eyes we’re bright. The blood, excitement and movement caused him to fall off the small ride the three were on and being thrown onto the ship near your feet.

She sees them coming back and smiles as she waves back at them, letting out a squeal. Luffy hops off the boat with a wide smile and Zoro making his way behind Luffy onto the ship; not before looking at the chef in disgust and taking a step over Sanji’s body.

Jeshika took in the sight before her and couldn’t help the wide smile on her face. Luffy was talking fast and loud almost bouncing over the ship which took her attention away briefly before seeing Zoro in the corner. She immediately goes to Zoro first giving him a long hug as she took in his scent and appearance for the first time in two years. It was similar but also different and that made her feel a little sad at the thought he seemed different but she let that thought slide trying to revel in the here and now. They were here that was all that mattered. Zoro was quite stoic and rigid at the hug but she did feel him give a small squeeze back. That was more than she needed. Just to know he was happy to see her, he had a small smile on his face which he tried to hide but Jeshika saw it. She smiled back not needed to speak. There was no need for words between them, she could still feel the connection they once shared and let out a small almost inaudible sigh of relief. Maybe things could get back to some normality now.

She let out another smile at Zoro almost getting lost in the feeling of having him back that she almost forgot everyone else. Just for a moment that is until she felt movement by her feet and realising Sanji was still on the floor. She let out a chuckle before pulling away from Zoro and bending down to pull Sanji into a tight hug.

She saw the blood coming from his nose still and let out a small chuckle. “Same old Sanji” she whispered in glee. She was grateful that there was some familiarity after all these years. The blood going on her bikini top but she didn’t care, almost pulling him into a much tighter hug. Two years was too long. She pulled him even closer to her chest and hugged him tight. Just letting all her emotions wash over her.

She could feel his body trembling against hers, His grip on her tightening, as he knuckles almost turns white. She could feel him digging into her skin but she didn’t mind. It made it feel real.

Sanji had been yearning to feel Jess’ warmth again so badly for a long time, being stuck on that island made him yearn for her touch more than he would like to admit. He could see Zoro raise an eyebrow at his behaviour but he didn’t care. They were both over the moon to see you and neither were going to ruin this moment even if it was tempting to snap at the other.

Blood had covered Jeshika’s chest from his nose as he tried so hard to stop it but the sight of her was too much, she had changed too but it wasn’t in a bad way. Her figure and her aura just made him want to soak in everything about her once again. He was embarrassed beyond belief but he just couldn’t stop himself. He doesn’t want to move away from fear of her not being there anymore.

He continued to hug back with all of his strength and leans his head into her before pushing his face against her breasts. It was done without thinking but the scent of her and the softness was all he wanted, craved even. He needed the warmth and the comfort only she could give him and he was going to be greedy and take it all. Relief also washing over him at being in your grasp again.

Zoro felt a hint of jealousy run through him at the two of you hugging, a flash going though his eyes but he didn’t make a move to stop it. He could feel the tension, knowing they both needed this, even if it was killing him to not be able to touch her. He wouldn’t let Sanji win and show what he was feeling. He had thought long and hard throughout the two years as he was training with Mihawk. Thoughts of Jeshika always staining his mind in the quiet moments of day. The thoughts became more and more as the years passed by. Almost wondering what would happen if and when he finally got to see her again. He couldn’t pinpoint those feelings gnawing at his chest at the sight of the idiot cook and Jeshika hugging but it pulled him into his thoughts. Zoro was lost in thought just taking in her appearance realising how much she had changed but there was still the same old Jeshika underneath the change in appearance and it made him twitch his lips a little; grateful no one saw that. He couldn’t stop looking at her.

Jess lifted her head to look at Zoro almost expecting him to have disappeared with the captain, usually first to follow when Luffy was to leave, when she noticed him staring. She felt a light blush creep on her cheeks and looked away bashfully before holding onto Sanji tighter, burying her nose into his blonde hair; one to avoid Zoro’s intense gaze and two to try and remember the scent she has missed so dearly. Zoro caught Jeshika’s glance and cleared his throat before turning away and pretending to inspect his swords.

Jeshika didn’t know how she had coped in those two years. Being away from her captain and the crew was bad but being away from both Sanji and Zoro had almost broken her. Many a nights she thought of her crew, wondering what they were doing but each and every night the thoughts always came back to one of two Strawhat’s; Sanji or Zoro. Her and Sanji were close, probably the closest she was to any of the crew, before they had separated and her and Zoro’s relationship was complicated but there was always an undeniable bond between those two that they had; even if Zoro never voiced anything they both cared for each other deeply.

She was pulled out of her thoughts at the feel of wet on her chest, She looked down to see the blood pouring but didn’t care that she was covered in it. All that mattered was the man in front of her. With shaky breaths she kissed the top of his head and lets him soak her presence up like a sponge.

She had a warm feeling in her chest knowing she was back with the two most important people in her life and felt a calm wash over her.

As they hugged Zoro teased Sanji at his behaviour trying to cover his own thought’s and feelings. Sanji’s head snapped up to give Zoro and glare but was brought back to Jeshika’s presence quickly. The words he wanted to say to Zoro dying on his lips as he tried so hard to stop the blood from flowing. “Stupid moss head” He whispered but there was no malice to it.

In the background the rest of the crew were laughing and talking and all Jeshika could think was she was home. Everyone were all so happy to be together again. Everyone had changed in someway she could tell but the bonds they had seemed to just fall back into place and that was all that mattered. She was just happy that Sanji was still Sanji no matter what else may have changed in the two years apart. She was sure there was some change in him but this, this was still the same man she knew.

“I missed you...” She whispered with shaky breaths; a couple of tears staining her cheeks. She looked at both Sanji and at Zoro as she said those words. Zoro’s heart swell but didn’t move, wanting to say he missed her too but the words got stuck in his throat.

She felt Sanji pull his head back from her chest and wipe his nose one more time not noticing how much blood was stained and wiped away the tears with the pad of his thumb. “I missed you too suteki na” He said intently as his nose bleed started to dry up.

It was true. He had missed her terribly. He took in her beauty and her smile and fell in love all over again. Her hair had grown longer and she had grown a tan since she had been gone but she was still beautiful to him. “My god I’ve missed you so much” He pulls back and stared into her eyes Intently, feeling like he was finally home.

Now he had pulled back she finally took in his appearance and noticed how much he’s changed just by glancing at him. His blue eyes had come more intense, his hair had grown, covering his face a little bit more. She noticed his fringe changing sides on his face and the stubble he had grown and looked him up and down drinking in his appearance. Both the men in front of her had different auras about them but she couldn’t help feel soft inside at the two men in front of her. This wasn't an entirely new feeling but she was glad the last two years could now finally be ended. She didn't have to be lonely anymore.

Part 1? Might change some of it not too sure.

#fanfiction #fanfic #one piece #zoro #sanji #zoro x reader #zoro x oc #sanji x oc #sanji x reader #roronoa zoro #vinsmoke sanji #nami #nico robin #robin #chopper #franky #luffy #monkey d. luffy

[ayekittyk4t]

all you girls try to be saints, i’ll make you wanna sin

♱ Desc: A battle of who can make the other more jealous ends in a much, much more exciting way.

♱ Pairing: Plug!Eren x AFAB reader

♱ Content Warning: Unestablished relationship, friends with benefits, possessive behavior, spit, thigh fucking, choking, biting, hair pulling, manhandling, cream pie

♱ Word Count: 5473

a/n after months i’m finally bringing back plug!eren bc i randomly got the motivation to write. i’ve been trying to write him again for a while so i really hope u guys enjoy bc this mf has me stuck. title is from oddlook. give it a listen ;)

wattpad | ao3

(Chapter 3)

The low hum of your favorite song plays softly through the bedroom. A scented candle lit and filled the room with the aroma of citrus and basil. Along with it, wafts the faint scent of marijuana. The wind blows in through the open window, shouts of children playing below and music coming from the neighbor's garages blare into the room. Past the window, the sun is setting into the horizon while the moon readies itself to shimmer with the stars. Brisk air rushes once more, hitting the bare skin on your thighs as you smooth your dress out in front of your full-length mirror.

“How does it look?” you ask softly while twirling and checking yourself out. Peering over your shoulder, you wait for a response from him. Erens eyes skim your body as he sits in your velvet pink chair, legs kicked up onto the matching ottoman. An arm hangs out the window, joint attached to his nimble fingers. His other is thrown over his head, running his hands through thick brown locks.

Perfect, he wants to say. He doesn’t know why you’re even asking. The little black dress hugs your body perfectly, sweetheart neckline scooping your plump breasts, gold hoops, and a matching initial necklace adorning your chest.

Christ, he mumbled under his breath. You looked just so good to him. Eren wanted to take you right then and there, work his fingers magically into you, split you open with his ring and middle, rubbing that spongy spot inside you. His thumb circles your clit, lips on your neck, licking and sucking violet bruises into your skin. You’d be crumbling in his hands. Shaking and moaning, scratching his back, and pulling his hair. Your hair is a mess, your makeup is ruined with tears, and your dress torn. Eren would think you were the most beautiful of all still.

“Good.” is all he says.

“Just good?” you look over your shoulder, head tilted back and brows furrowed in uncertainty. Eren watches as you pout at him, a fresh set of burgundy colored stiletto nails playing with your necklace.

His eyes drag across what you’re wearing once more. The dress was short, your ass was hanging out and if you were gonna dance the way you always did, you were going to give everybody a perfect view of your panties. He didn’t like that one bit. He knew what people said about you, how many people wanted to be with you.

“Man, if I could fuck around with that piece of ass.” Porco would mummer under his breath, hungry eyes eating you up as you danced with a friend. he’d nudge Eren, giving him a toothy smile that made him want to knock his teeth in.

“Fuck off, Porco.”

“What? If you aren’t gonna fuck her, I’d gladly do it.” Porco throws his hands up defensively, chucking and mumbling something Eren couldn’t hear.

If only that asshole knew how Eren would make you feel. How you were in the backseat of his car just an hour ago, ass in the air as he pounded into you. Hands holding your hips, and nails piercing your skin. He’s grunting, you’re moaning and skin is slapping skin.

“Why? Are you trying to look nice for someone at the party?” Eren snorts, lip twitching and curving into a smirk. The way his tone makes you wonder if he’s trying to get something from you, almost like he’s jealous.

The smirk on your rouge lips mirrors him, only growing larger into a smile from your realization, “are you jealous?”

Yes, he was.

“Answer my question first.” his gaze averts to the window. Below a car passes and ashes fall from his joint. you’re quite speechless, watching as he brings his hand back into the room and takes a long drag from the joint.

You had no idea where this behavior was coming from. You also didn’t know whether it was something you liked or disliked. All you could do is scoff and roll your eyes.

“For your information…” you begin, taking a seat at your vanity to touch up your makeup, “I am not getting ready for anyone but myself.” you dab blush onto your cheekbones, “You have no right to be jealous anyway.”

Erens shifts in his chair, your comment immediately caught his attention. You keep your eyes glued to your figure in the mirror. The conversation had shivers crawling all over your body, goosebumps growing on your thighs and arms. There wasn’t an idea in your mind where it would go next.

“Why?”

A pause and you’re turning to face him. The look in his eyes is unreadable. Was he angry? Was he disappointed? Was he happy? He had a blank gaze and flat lips, there wasn’t anything to even read.

“You’re not my boyfriend.” A scoff leaves your lips as you shake your head in disbelief.

There’s a long pause in the room. The space seems to shrink between your shared gazes, and the mixture of the lit candle and cannabis is making you nauseous.

Erens eyes narrow, turning away slowly with a lazy smile. You do the same, ignoring his presence to choose which perfume you’d wear tonight.

Though you don’t see him do so, you hear him. He's putting out the joint on your windowsill as you study the bottles. Swinging his legs over the ottoman, groaning lowly as he does so. You pick up a bottle. His steps are quiet, yet so heavy. each one seems to mimic your increasing heart rate. You spray each side of your neck. Honeysuckle and Vanilla. The steps stop, and you can just feel him behind you.

“Look at me.” With a slow shut of your eyes, you ignore Erens demand, spraying more perfume onto your wrists.

Eren wasn’t amused one bit. Rough hands cup your chin, pulling you - forcing you to look at him. His hands were warm and reeked of burnt weed. You scrunch your nose in disgust, but Eren can read you like a book, knowing already that you were going to spit something so vulgar at him. He tightens his grip on your chin, hoping it’d prevent you from speaking. It does.

“I fuck you, right?” He catches you off guard. You wonder where the conversation was going but you didn’t want it to go wrong. This was the uncharted territory between you and Eren.

You nod, nostrils flaring.

“I make you cum too.” It sounds like a question, but it’s a statement. He makes you cum a lot.

You nod.

“And who buys you all this?” Thick fingers reach your necklace. He grabs the chain, letting it dangle between his finger.

You swallow hard, but there’s a lump stuck in the depths of your throat, “You do, Eren.”

He’s at peace with your answers, both hands falling free from you. However, his eyes are still glued onto you giving you a warm smile. Still, behind his warm smile is one coated in wickedness.

You can't help but feel yourself heat up. Warmth flooding your cheeks, ears, and chest. Warmth filling you everywhere. A pooling between your legs follows.

“I’ll be in the car.”

He leaves the room.

You're frozen for a while before turning back to the mirror. You fix your hair a little, adding one more spray of perfume to your nape.

–

It was a rare occasion for you to drink. Alcohol never sat right with you and it made you do things. The way it burns going down your esophagus falls into the acidic pit of your stomach and sets fire to the walls. It makes you do bad things. Dance till you drop, make out with one or two of your girlfriends, but the craziest thing you did was grow a relationship with a local drug dealer. Atop of that, you fucked him.

And it was good. It was so, so good. Alcohol never tasted better to you up until that night. On his tongue, as it massaged yours, transferring the taste of Hennessy onto your tastebuds. It was so addicting, you couldn’t have him for just one night, so you took him for more.

You took him in the car whether he was parked outside in front of a busy party or an empty parking lot. You took him on the couch in his apartment. His kitchen, bed, and your favorite place, in his shower.

Where hot streams of water would fall onto your sticky, burning skin. Hands grasping your waist just to flip you around and shove you into the wall. Eren was so aggressive behind closed doors and all you wanted from him was more. And Eren couldn’t deny his Princess, so he gave you all he had. He pulled at your roots, put you in a chokehold, he thrust so deep and hard. He did all for you.

You never felt so clean and dirty at the same time with Eren.

To think he was the one attracted to you first. Now, you can't explain your feelings towards the boy. All you knew is that like the spoiled girl you are, you wanted more. More than sex in his shower. More than his alcohol-infused kisses. More than his pungent aroma of marijuana and Dolce & Gabbana Light Blue.

The flaw you carried with you was one you’d hated for as long as you can remember. That being an absolute idiot coming to expressing what you feel. Eren didn’t see that, he only saw you pushing him away.

“You look ill.” A concerned look on the black-haired girl flashes across her face. Lips downturned and thin brows clinging to each other as they furrow in concern. Mikasa inched closer to you to grab your attention, though the attempt was a failure. You’d been too angry.

Alcohol. The poison made you feel so many strong emotions, one, in particular, being anger. Anger because you were being ignored. Anger because Eren was flirting with girls because it’s “good for business”. Anger because he was left alone with them in a room.

“I’m…” You're annoyed, tired, frustrated. You were so much more but none of the words seem to pass through your lips. “Let’s dance.”

Mikasa is taken back. One second you were sulking around the stone fire pit and the next your nails were sunk into Mikasa's skin dragging her to the group of bodies dancing. She couldn’t help but smile at you. You were circling her, mouthing the lyrics of the song playing and moving your hands up her shoulders to wrap your arms around her neck.

It wasn’t long before you two were swaying your bodies together. Hands entangled with each other and your faces were close enough that the tips of your noses were touching. Time flew while the two of you danced, lost in each other’s spaces and engulfing yourselves in the music.

“What’s wrong?” Mikasa asks into your ear, lips brushing your skin. She smelled strong, like warm sugar and juicy red candied apples. If you weren’t so addicted to Eren and had a tinge of alcohol in your system, you’d eat her up right then and there.

It was the second time tonight she pointed out your discomfort. Although you were tempted to tell her the truth about the source of your irritation is Eren, you wouldn’t allow yourself.

Playfully, you blew air at her face. Black locks uncover her gray eyes and she blinks hard, “I’m ok, Mikasa.”’ You sigh softly, pushing hair behind her ear, “I just wanna dance with you.”

So that is what you did. You danced on the travertine patio of some random rich boy whose party you were crashing. The activity was usually fun for the most part. The excitement of sneaking in and pretending to recognize drunk faces. Then when they’d finally noticed, you’d run out as fast you could. The thrill was everything.

Today, however, isn’t like the previous times.

As you peek over Mikasa's shoulder, you glance at Eren who’s walking towards the stone fire pit you once sad at. Behind him trails a tall blonde in a brown halter mini dress. Her hair sways with each step she takes to sit on the armrest of the seat Eren had taken. Her breasts are in his face while she speaks to him and he stares intensely at the pair while taking a sip of beer. The sight alone made your heart beat, blood rushed throughout your body, and your fist clenched around Mikasa's dress. Eren catches the heated flicker in your eyes and smiles devilishly.

“Mika, Porcos here right?” She nods, confused as to why you're even asking, “Where is he?” She looks more confused. Your plan was plain and simple: do the same thing Eren was. Though he called his “business” you knew how he played, and this was a game.

“By the keg.” She points a dainty finger over your shoulder. Low and behold, Porco is conversing with men who were unknown to you. His hands flayed when he spoke and he raked his fingers through his hair.

“I’ll be back, Mikasa.” You're gone, leaving her to go back to the fire pit with Eren and his piece for tonight.

You push throw bodies, unfamiliar faces confused at who you were as you passed them and made your way to Porco.

“Hey, Porco.” You say sweetly, pulling his attention away from the men he was speaking to right to you. A dopey smile flashes across his face as he throws his hand to the back of his neck.

Nervously he calls your name, “What happened to dancing with Mikasa?”

“You were watching us?” You come closer to him. The two random men excused themselves as soon as they heard your flirty tone.

“How can I not.” His jaw tightens as he studied your expressions. He’s resting the waters with you seeing how you’d react to his flirtatious remarks. His attraction towards you was obvious, though you never played into it up until tonight. Tonight he’d be fun to play with.

Smiling gently, you push closer to him, “I got bored.” You looked up at him through your long lashes. He smelt your perfume, becoming entranced by the scent of it as the sight of your breasts pushed against him, “I wanted to speak to you too.”

Porco was good-looking. He was tall, built, had great hair, and had an attractive face. He just knew all about it. Bragged about girls and his skills. It wasn’t your thing, but for the time being, it would be.

“You wanna play with me today?” He brings his face down to yours, using his beer to lift your chin. You couldn’t help but notice how bad his flirting was, laughing at his words. He didn’t know. He’d assumed you were laughing with him, not at him.

“Should I not?” You play along with him, wrapping a hand around his neck and leaning in to whisper in his ear, “You always talk about how good you are.” His hand finds its way wrapping around your waist, inching closer and closer to your ass, “I want you to show me.”

“Only for yo-”

His words are cut short and you're pulled away from his grasp. Another pair of hands wrap around your wrist, stealing you from the blonde.

“Oh, Porco, man!” Eren. He shouts, throwing a hand and gripping Porcos shoulder. He shakes him while the grip on your wrist tightens, “I’m sorry, but I gotta take this monster home.” He shrugs, eyes lidded but burning holes right into Porco.

Before you or Porco can say another word, Eren is gone, dragging you away from him and the party. You try to fight his grasp and keep your comments quiet in case you hadn’t caused a scene enough at the party.

“Let go, Eren.” You wiggle from his grasp but he is just so much stronger than you, “Eren, c’mon, stop being a little bitch!” Finally, you yell at him, smacking him lightly on the shoulder as soon as you're far enough from the crowds.

He stops, doesn’t turn your way, nor does he speak. He just stops his steps, stands on an empty sidewalk of the suburban neighborhood hood, shoves his hands into his pockets, and continues walking.

Your heart pounds against your chest watching him walk away. Chest rising and nails sinking into the skin of your palms. How could he be so calm? It made you feel so angry. A different kind of anger from before, one couldn't easily explain.

“Are you coming or not?” Eren calls out from the side of his car. His hands were still shoved into his pockets.

“No.” You say sternly, crossing your arms.

He scoffs, shaking his head slowly at you. Then he laughs and gets in the car. The engine starts and the car rolls down to where you stand and stops.

“Stop acting like a child and get in.” His arm is out the window waving you down to get on, the other on the steering wheel. You ignore him once again. Quite literally, acting like a child while not even looking his way.

“Get in, you look stupid.”

“Don’t call me stupid, Eren.” You’re looking at him now, eyes wide and jaw clenched.

“Get in.”

“I can get a ride.”

“Yeah?” He looks up at you within dishealved locks, clicking his tongue, and shakes his head lightly again. He laughs. He’s high. “From Porco? That idiot just wants you for what’s in your pants.”

In the end, you cave in. Entering Erens car just infuriated you more. He was quiet, he didn’t say anything once you sat on the leather seats of his E30. You expected more from him about you messing around Porco. Maybe an explanation about the blonde. Nothing. He said nothing.

“That’s fine, Eren.” You speak softly and he begins to drive out of the neighborhood, “I don’t care if Porco wanted me for what’s in my pants.” Still, he doesn’t say a thing, “I wanted to fuck him.”

As you watch him, he clenched his jaw and his knuckles grip harder on the wheel. Then when you’re stopped at the red light, he revs the engine of his car. When it’s green, he speeds off. You poked the bear. He driving recklessly. Exceeding the speed limit, making sharp turns, and braking hard. He continues this throughout the drive to your apartment. Once you arrive, you jump out of the car, slamming the door as quickly as you could. You didn’t want to hear a thing from Eren.

Truly, you didn’t mind fucking Porco but you never were going to go through with it. You said what you said to get a reaction from Eren and you got what you wanted all along. You always did when it came to Eren.

Once you enter your apartment, you kick your heels off. Looking over your shoulder at the brunette getting closer to the door. When he just barely reaches the entrance, you slam the door in his face.

He’s quick, swinging the door and walking your way with force. He scares you, making your skin crawl once he grabs ahold of your face with one hand.

“Get your hands off me!” You speak incoherently from the pressure he’s applying to your face. With that, he lets go, grabbing your arm and dragging you into your bedroom to force you onto the bed, “Get off.”

“You don’t get to act like a brat after what you told me.” He hovers over you, keeling and keeping a knee between your legs to separate them. Your dress rides up, exposing your black lace panties. His hands hold your wrists in place on either side of your head.

You looked delectable to him. He saw that you were afraid, never seeing this side of him. But you also had some fight in you left, you weren’t gonna cower down soon. Though, especially, he saw that you were excited.

The way your chest rose, your nose was scrunched, your eyes glossed over, and the burning heat from your cunt against his knee. A wet patch grew on the center of your panties and he couldn’t ignore it.

“Really? I cant? Not even after you and that blonde bitch?” You spit out, teeth grinding against each other in a condescending tone, “I bet she fucked you so she can get seven grams with a discount? I know how you like smoking chicks out, you did it with me.”

The look in his eyes was purely dark. He was readable, so extremely readable. A once beautiful set of turquoise eyes is now dark. They're dark as a forest of evergreens. He gave you a look of wanting to ruin you.

“Don’t be so jealous, Princess.” He lowers himself so that his face was inches from yours, pushing and rubbing his knee against your cunt, “I didn’t smoke her out as I do with you.” A smile pulled at his lips as he watches you begin to rut your hips against his knee. And although you were angry, the itch and need to relive the throbbing at your pussy was much more important to you than yelling at Eren.

“D-did you fuck her?” You whimpered out as the rutting of your hips sent waves of heat throughout your body and your thighs began to ache from the work alone.

“Why would you care? I’m not your boyfriend.” He’s so close to your lips now. You pathetically attempt to kiss him, but he dodges your lips and watches as you embarrassingly rut your hips to reach completion. It wasn’t close to enough though, you needed more of him. His fingers, his mouth, his cock. Something more.

He feels bad for you, you tried but failed horribly at standing up to Eren. The craving you had for the boy was intense and it needed to be treated immediately. But this time, he was punishing you and he wasn’t gonna give it to you that easily.

“Look at you,” Finally he lets go of your wrists, getting up and leaving you high and dry on your silk sheets. And christ what a sight you were to him. Chest rising high, tits nearly spilling from your sweetheart neckline, and your dress cinched and just barely above your crotch exposing your cute little black panties with a bow. He couldn’t resist you. He wouldn’t.

“Get on your knees.” He spits out, watching over you like some god. And even though your mind told you not to cave in more than you already have, you continued to get on your knees. Eren watched as you struggled with weak legs and arms, becoming more and more impatient. Eventually, you were positioned perfectly.

“You’re beautiful like this.” He growled, “So fucking beautiful.” He exaggerates each word, smoothing over the soft skin of the back of your until reaches the globes of your ass. He squeezed hard, shoving you forward and into the mattress.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to speak coherently to Eren. Almost all five of your senses were Eren. From the corner of your eyes, you see him leaning over you and admiring you. His voice is low and raspy while whispering sweet yet poisonous comments into your ear. Eren smells of his cologne. His intoxicating, clean fresh cologne and his weed. Calloused hands run up the arch of your back and press down, making your ass stick higher in the air. But you couldn’t take him.

He wouldn’t let you, and all you wanted was him in your mouth. You needed to taste his spit on your plump lips. You had a craving for his saliva on your tongue.

“How bad do you want it?” Eren asks, pushing your dress until it’s just below your bra.

“Bad.” Whiny and breathy, you rock your hips back to meet Erens crotch. Through the rough material of his jeans, you shimmy your ass on his hard cock. “So bad, Eren.”

With that, he lets go. His hand snakes around your neck and the other gets a brutal grip on your hair, pulling your head back. You whine from the stinging at your scalp. It hurt, but the pooling between your legs said otherwise. Once your face is off your sheets, his hand squeezes your cheeks together, making your lips pucker. He sticks his fingers in your mouth, pressing his pointer and middle down on your tongue so you’d drool over the length of them. He pushes farther, making you gag and your eyes brim with tears, ruining your makeup. Eren laughs darkly.

“No one can make you feel as good as I do.” He rasps, his fingers still messaging your tongue and making you gag as his other lets go of your hair to undo his belt. The jingle alone makes you jump, goosebumps crawl all over your body, and your cunt drips.

You shake your head. No. No one can make you feel as good as Eren.

A string of saliva falls past your glossy lips once Erens fingers leave your mouth. He groans at how soaked his fingers are from your mouth. His other hand comes back to your head pushing you into the mattress again and the other releases his cock from his briefs. Fuck, he utters under his breath once he wraps his hands around his aching cock.

Your breathing is restrained, nearly choking from the face full of bed sheets and Erens forceful behavior. You’re aching everywhere for him, but especially your cunt. Releasing the balled-up sheets from your hands, you slowly inch one between your legs. Pathetically, you reach for your throbbing clit but your finger isn’t long enough.

Eren shakes his head, hair messy and falling from the hair tie, “You need help, Princess?” He coos, almost mocking your whines and begging for relief from the ache between your legs. You nod eagerly.

“Words, Princess.”

“Please, Eren. I-I need you so bad.”

Eren is breathing heavily, pulling you closer to him and peeling your panties off. Under the moonlight, your cunt glistens with slick and pulsates for him. With his cockhead, he rubs your lips, spreading them to toy with your clit.

“More, please, just fuck me.”

“Be patient.” So you try to be. You let him play and tease you for a while. You let him stick his dick between your thighs, and fuck them. Wetting his length with your juices as he barely catches your clit with each slow thrust. He groans lowly with each stroke and each little noise you make.

And for your patience, he rewards you. His cock-head passes through the first ring of muscle. You’re welcoming him so well that he shoved himself inside you and that you let out a sharp yelp once he does. Your cunt wraps around him with intense heat and your gasping and groaning at his harshness.

He watched you below him. How you catch your breath, your knuckles turn white from the tight grips you had on your sheets, but your back arch’s more for him.

“Hard,” You speak softly and breathlessly, muffled, “go hard.”

Eren would cum at just that. Though he wouldn’t before he broke you. He nearly pulls the entirety of his fat cock out of your cunt, just leaving the tip inside, then forces himself back into the warmth of your pussy. He is slow at first but harsh, teasing you because he knows how much you like it rough. His hand roams the arch of your back, pushing hard. The other wrapping around your neck, squeezing hard. Then he’s fucking you. Fucking you hard.

He rammed his hips into you at a fast pace. His cock fills your walls and tip fucking your cervix. Your senses were heightened each time Eren slammed into you. Your moans are so lewd and loud, his grunting so animalistic. The oak legs of your bed scratched the floor and your bed frame hit the thin walls of your bedroom from Erens aggressiveness.

You're sore from him already. From the slapping of his thighs on yours and calloused hands all over your body. But you didn’t mind. You loved all of it. You loved all Eren gave you.

“I only fuck you like this,” He rasps between each thrust, “This pussy only takes me like this.” Slamming, slapping, groaning. Your mouth is dry as you breathe hard, gasping for air as Eren's hand squeezes harder around your neck.

“J-just you, Eren. Only E-eren can.” You say it softly, but you doubt he couldn’t even hear you.

Erens lost. He’s in a daze and living a dream of being in your pussy. Fucking you so deep, that he completely loses himself. Strong arms wrap around your stomach, pulling you to his chest with his cock still in your cunt, but thrusts paused. One arm stays at your waist, holding onto you until his fingertips bruise your tender skin. The other snakes to your neck again, gently but roughly, he puts you in a headlock and begins the rhythmic slamming of his cock into your pussy once more.

You panting like a bitch in heat, clawing at Erens waist to gain balance. Though his force is too much. He's fucking up into you like a beast. Grunting and muttering the sweetest yet disgusting praises into your ears. The soft hoodie he kept on is your only source of softness. His lips brisk from your neck and your ear and he bites down on your lobe. You’re a moaning mess when his lips suck the supple skin of your neck, only to bite down till he breaks a layer of skin. The belt lying above his knees scratches your skin, and his hand finds its way up to your stomach. Pulling your bra cup, he frees your tits, messaging them and pinching your nipple.

With one harsh thrust, Eren pushes you back into the bed. You’re limp, letting him use you like a fucktoy. Your throat is raw from moaning so much, from calling out F-fuck, Eren. Right there, Eren. Mmm, harder, Eren. You wouldn’t be surprised if your landlord came to visit you the next morning. Either way, you couldn’t care one bit.

The build-up Eren was giving you was amazing. So painfully amazing.

His hands roamed to your hips and held you in place for a couple of seconds until one came to rub your clit. You lost your mind at that. Whining louder from his thick, long fingers rubbing delicious circles onto your throbbing clit and his tip fucking your cervix nice and deep.

Your entire body filled with warmth and your joints turned into gelatin. Eren breathed harshly through grinding teeth feeling your walls cave in on him. The pulsing of your cunt added to his pleasure so did the rise and fall of your back.

“Squeezing me so fuckin’ good, Princess” He spits out, “You gonna cum, hm?”

Out of breath, yes’s fall past your lips. Raw, raspy yes’s.

“Yeah, yes, Eren.”

With Eren, your orgasms were never just one knot snapping. It was multiple. Multiple knots snapping at an unexplainably fast speed with great intensity. So with one more snap of his hips. That’s what happens. Those knots snap, and you’re gone. Moaning, yelping, whining, screaming. You’re gushing all over his fat cock you don’t even notice the mess you make on him and your bed sheets.

A panting, worn out, hot mess you were. Legs trembling and wet from your juices. Eren's thrusts became sporadic as he came closer to his high from the sight of you squirting all over him.

“F-fuckin’ hell, Princess.” He moans lowly, “Dirty-fucking-slut,” He accentuates each word with a hard, tired-out thrust. He smacks your ass, squeezing the globes to pull you back to him once more. He cums. His big, cock shoots and stuffs you full of his cum. Moon-shaped marking and pierced into the skin of your hips from his grasp, red and nearly purple from his strength.

You’re quiet besides your painting, no longer able to say a thing, no longer able to move. He broke you just like he wanted to.

Eren keeps his cock inside you, reaching out to grab a handful of your hair, he turns you. His other hand moves your hair out of your face and wipes a glob of tears away from your mascara-stained eyes. He’s breathing heavily through his nose, his nostrils flaring. He’s sweaty and his cheeks are rosy from leaving his hoodie on.

Once more, he thrusts himself into you. Stuffing you full of his cum and not letting a single drop fall. He watches as your face contorts. Wet lips fall, eyes roll back, and nose scrunch.

“Only I fuck you this good. Remember that, Princess.”

#attack on titan #aot #eren yeager #eren x reader #eren yeager x reader #attack on titan x reader #aot x reader #snk #shingeki no kyojin x reader #snk x reader #shingeki no kyojin #plug eren #afab reader #attack on titan smut #aot smut #eren smut #eren yeager smut #tw unprotected sex #tw dubcon #tw marijuana #tw alcohol #tw possessive behavior #tw unestablished relationship #plug eren smut

[helloheyhihowdyheya]

Something Special

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x gn!pilot!reader

Masterlist Part Two

Summary: “Oh, am I supposed to break orders just for you? Like you’re special or something?” OR You aren't sure where you stand with Rooster, but you know he didn't tell you that he might not make it back from the mission.

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: Angst. Swearing. Sadness, some more angst

A/n: This one's pretty sad, I might do a part 2 to make up for it lol. I'm just a sucker for angsty Rooster though. I'd love to know your thoughts, thanks for reading! <3

--

The path your heavy footsteps took felt sickeningly familiar, your body knowing the way to his room with your eyes closed. Stalking through the barrack’s halls, you turned corners with only one thing plaguing your mind, torturing it. 

Other pilots passed your reddening vision, ones that you might’ve smiled at on other days – but not today. Not even to Coyote still laying in the med bay you passed as he recovered from passing out. Not when your fist balled so tight your nails dug into your palm and your throat tightened with each step, threatening to choke you out before you ever made it.

You spotted his door, the one you’d knocked so quietly on for months now so no one would hear – only for him to kiss you breathless on the other side of it. But you didn’t bother to give him any warning this time. The hinges creaked as you threw the door open, screaming at you to stop before this all started. Your eyes found Rooster’s as he startled, sitting up from his bed with a hand on his chest.

“Jesus, you scared the shit out of–”

“Shut up,” you told him, almost relishing the way hurt flashed across his face. The door clicking closed behind you was the only thing accompanying your ragged breaths you couldn’t care to hide. “When were you going to tell me, Bradshaw?”

His eyebrows sunk together, his head tilting to the side. “Oh, of course. I’ll tell you right away about whatever vague thing you’re yelling at me about,” he said, his voice coming with a slight bite.

“You’re an ass. You know that?” You crossed your arms, gritting your teeth so hard your jaw began to ache.

He let out a disbelieving laugh as he stood. “And you’re a stubborn dick. Now that we’ve exchanged pleasantries, can you actually use your words and tell–”

“Are you going on a fucking suicide mission? Is it true?”

You already knew it was. But your face hardened, refusing to show him any emotion. Covering up the heart on your sleeve. Maybe you should’ve started this with honesty, that you were more hurt than angry, more scared than anything. But the deep ridges of your rage felt comfortable, right, for what he’d done to you. Or hadn’t done.

Rooster’s mouth opened and closed, his mustache twitching as he struggled to say anything. You just raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to tell you that somehow this was all a misunderstanding. You could handle looking like an idiot, but this? The truth? You weren’t so sure.

His hand dragged down his face, the brown of his eyes void of its usual warmth that you often sought out – passing in the halls, across the table in boring meetings, standing before your plane with your heart in your throat.

“Who told you?” he asked, looking everywhere but you. And his question brought a horrible realization in front of you, trickling down your spine alongside other secrets he kept from you. 

“Rooster,” you gritted out, forcing your voice to stay steady. “When Coyote couldn’t fly, and they were looking for someone to replace him… did my name ever come up?”

The silence left between you two vibrated, buzzing so hard it ached in your chest. “Tell me you didn’t talk to Maverick, or Cyclone for christ’s sake, and convince them not to pick me.” Too many moments passed, his face unyielding and so unlike the man you’d come to know. When he didn’t answer, just shifted his body from one foot to the other, you tiredly whispered out, “Bradley…” 

“Who told you? The mission is confidential.” Rooster moved toward you, his jaw hard set and ticking. You weren’t on the mission – thanks to him apparently – but with being at the same base, you’d found opportunities to get bits and pieces out of Hangman and Maverick. The fact that Rooster didn’t tell you though weighed heavier on your mind.

“Is that why you didn’t tell me? Because it’s confidential?” you spit out, voice mocking. It was a valid reason, but he told you everything against your lips, bodies facing one another on his too-small bed in between dusk and dawn.

He came closer still, angry breaths filling the space between you two as his eyes refused to leave yours now. “Oh, am I supposed to break orders just for you? Like you’re special or something?”

That made you pause, the first time you’d done so since learning the news. Your gaze unfocused, drifting down until they fell on his hands. Hands you had once trusted to hold you despite everything else going on – now they merely looked like a stranger’s. Had you so badly misunderstood where you fit into his life?

With a sad laugh, you shook your head as you thought out loud, “Yeah, guess I thought so. Especially when you’re going off to get yourself killed.”

A groan came from the back of his throat. “I… this is bigger than us. I just–”

“It’s fine,” you told him, raising your hands up in surrender. As you stepped back, you could’ve sworn his fingers twitched, shifted toward you just an inch. “It was my mistake.” Your voice came out as a whisper when you opened the door, letting it close behind you softly. Biting the inside of your cheek, you didn’t let tears fall until you made it back to your bed, alone.

–

You didn’t hear the news from Rooster, that he’d been chosen to go on the mission. No, you’d picked up on it as the whole base seemed to come alive as the day neared. And he stood at the center of it. You’d done your best to avoid him and his usual routine that you had memorized just to sneak spare moments together here and there.

Time you might have had to yourself was spent in the gym, or anywhere but your room in case he decided to come by. You knew he hadn’t though, not with the mission hanging over his head. 

It wasn’t until the morning of the flight that you saw Rooster again in the hallway outside the locker rooms – you on your way in to change for a workout, him on his way out, carrying his flight gear.

“Oh,” you said, stepping back so you didn’t bump into his chest. You stared at his helmet, the design on it so him. And all you could do was focus on your even breathing as he cleared his throat.

“Wasn’t expecting you here,” he said, his voice void of the anger it had before.

“Could say the same.” You still kept the grit to your words, unable to let them go as he stood there before you – ready to go on a mission he wouldn’t let you take. 

Rooster nodded, pursing his lips. “I, uh, couldn’t wait around. Too many nerves, so I got ready early. Before we head out on the aircraft carrier.”

“I know how that is,” you breathed out, knowing you should offer him some sort of reassurance. But couldn’t he offer the same? Give you something to hold onto besides hope. Hope. As if that could make you feel any less helpless standing back here while he soared above. Alone.

You nearly couldn’t take the silence crackling between your bodies, hanging much too heavy on your already aching shoulders. Picking at your nails, you were about to wish him luck when he spoke up.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what, exactly?” you asked, voice tight as you stared at and through him.

You saw the way his jaw ticked for just a brief moment before he let out a long breath. “For not telling you the truth… about everything.”

Trying to focus on the grounding feeling of your arms crossing over your chest, you whispered, “But you’d do it again if given the chance, wouldn’t you, Rooster?”

His chest heaved when he answered, “Yes, baby, I would.”

And you couldn’t stop the scoff that escaped your mouth – at the pet name, at his answer, at everything he seemed to stand for.

“Were you trying to protect me from danger, or were you protecting yourself from this?” you asked, gesturing between the two of you. “That fear you’d have of me flying up there, of getting my chance to be more, is what I now have to live with. Maybe forever if you don’t come bac–”

“I’m coming back, okay?” You stared him down like you didn’t believe him, and you weren’t sure he believed it himself.

Shaking your head, you gritted out, “And if I had gone on this flight, said this exact BS you’re trying to tell me, you wouldn’t have batted an eye? Bradley, you’re a fucking hypocrite and you’re god damn scared.”

“Of course I’m scared!” he shouted, moving forward until his body pressed against yours. “Maybe I don’t make it back, but you will. You’ll be here, and you can keep living.”

His anger seethed from him, his throat straining. Still, you pressed your hands against his chest, pushing him back. “Or it could be you here, on the ground and safe. Since when do you get to choose who lives and who dies?”

“Since I lost my fucking parents, that’s when. If I have the chance to stop from losing another person I love, I’m going to take it,” he said, ripping your hands from him. His eyes, now turned dark and pupils large, moved frantically across your face. 

Your stomach sank, dropping down, down, down and turning to stone. “Don’t,” you whispered, the corners of your eyes beginning to sting no matter how much you begged them to quiet, to dry, to shove any emotion away.

“I…” he stammered, reaching out to grab you again. “It’s true, I love you.”

Gritting your teeth, you turned your head away. “Don’t, Bradley. You don’t get to do this to me.” Tears finally spilled over and onto your cheeks. The feeling that this conversation was a goodbye seeped through your skin, settling into your bones.

“Please,” he begged, grasping onto your arms. Maybe you loved him too, maybe that’s where your unyielding rage stemmed from as he caused you this pain. But you wouldn’t let that hurt you, not when him dying would kill you.

You grabbed his hands, giving them a final squeeze. “Good luck up there.” The look of his tearful face as you backed away wouldn’t leave your mind, not when you refused to leave your room until you were sure Rooster was gone.

--

@reidslovely

#rooster x reader #rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun maverick #top gun angst #rooster top gun

[eddies-house]

The Under-Ground

Chapter One - Welcome to The Under-Ground

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 |

Modern!Barista!Eddie AU - In which you work at the local Hawkins coffee shop where you thought you'd be able to escape the horrors that were high school a few years after graduating. Until one of those horrors lands a job in the closing shift with you...and you have to train him.

Enemies to Lovers, Modern!Barista!Eddie AU, Eddie x Fem Reader

5K Words

Warnings - Eddie is an asshole, eventual smut, I don't think there's anything else but please let me know if I missed anything

Author's Note: I finished this sooner than I thought I would...pls let me know what you think, I am having so much fun writing this so far and I can't wait to keep going

Masterlist

Next ->

The chill Autumn air infiltrated the apartment and left you shivering, the wool blanket atop your comforter did little to aid you in getting warm.  That’s what five hundred dollars a month got you in small town Hawkins, it's what you could afford.  Old striped wallpaper that alternated a faded baby blue and pale yellow that seemed to have been glued to the wall since the 70’s barely clung to the walls, a majority of it peeling and begging to be torn off.  The stained white linoleum throughout the kitchen had seen better days and the carpet in the living room and bedroom was dingy, so dingy that no vacuum could possibly come close to cleaning it.  The lock on the door was on the verge of breaking and almost didn’t work–almost.  And of course the heater was definitely broken, the creepy landlord would take his sweet time to fix it, leaving you with a freezing apartment as the seasons changed and Hawkins welcomed the fall.  A broke college student by day and a barista by night, these are the cards you were dealt for now.  

Classes at the community college had finished for the day, rotating to the night courses.  A few papers were due next week, one for your business class on the effects of product promotion in business growth that happened to be stressing you out extra.  Your fingers tapped away at your laptop from your mattress nestled in the corner on the floor of your tiny bedroom.  4:30PM, the time in the corner of the screen read, just half an hour before your shift at The Under-Ground.  With a groan, you click save on the document and shut the laptop which was certain to be opened later tonight after your shift only to continue the torturous essay.  Begrudgingly you began your pre-work ritual of grabbing whatever snack or meal you had in the fridge, scarfing it down, and then tidying your appearance a bit while listening to your daily playlist named “Eh” on Spotify.  Today’s vibe was set by Dreams by Fleetwood Mac.  

The rusty bathroom faucet sputtered water before allowing a full stream to flow into the sink.  You splashed some water on your face to feel more alive although it may have been a mistake in hindsight since the apartment was already cold and rather than feeling refreshed, you felt like a wet dog.  Dabbing your face with a towel hanging from over the rod where the tie dye shower curtain hung as well, you collected any leftover mascara from the previous night beneath your waterline and around your eyelids.  Moving to the compact closet in the bedroom, a simple outfit of jeans and a maroon knitted sweater you’d ‘claimed’ from the lost and found at the college were chosen and paired with your only signature docs.  Lastly, your apron was tied around your waist in a neat knot.  

Grabbing your keys from the laminate countertop and shoving your laptop in your bag, you make your way through the damaged and scratched up wooden door that was the entrance to your apartment, the number seven nailed to the front of it.  “God dammit.” you jam your key in and out of the lock, twisting and repeating until it finally clicks in place.  The door leads right outside into the biting air and you scurry down the concrete stairs while avoiding touching the nasty railing, Mrs. Harrison’s chubby cat, Raphael is perched right at the bottom like he always is.  His large green irises stare up at you, giving the appearance that he was just a fluffy ball of black fur with eyes.  “Ralphy” you mumble your nickname for him affectionately as you steal a pat from his head on your way out of the apartments, a small meow chiming through the air.  

The Under-Ground wasn’t a far walk but it sure did seem that way the colder it got.  You’d been working there since the Spring and so far had no issues with weather but you knew it would bite you at some point.  The walk through downtown Hawkins is crisp and cloudy, leaves blowing delicately from the trees and laying perfectly in the street, colors varying from red, orange, and brown.  It was mid September.  Patrons wander about the streets attending to their daily errands.  Teenagers mess around at the entrance of The Hideout, no doubt attempting to use their fake IDs only to be turned away by the bouncer, Stan.  

Joyce Byers cleans the storefront window of Melvald’s, taking care to not miss a single streak.  Her face lights up as her son, Will approaches the store.  Max Mayfield skateboards past you down the sidewalk at lightning speed, the only reason you know it's her is a flash of her flaming red hair as well as Lucas Sinclair trying to keep up with her on his own board, a nervous expression written on his features as he carefully maneuvers.  Nancy Wheeler hurriedly gets into her car, wrapping up her workday at The Hawkins Post while Jonathan Byers gives her cheek a kiss and heads over toward Will and Joyce.   

The Under-Ground comes into view as you round the corner, the brick building vacant of customers at the moment from what you can tell through the windows.  The evening rush hasn’t picked up yet, usually kicking in at around six when the college students like yourself would make themselves at home and study over lattes and espresso shots.  The bell chimes above the door as you pull it open, the smell of coffee beans and pastries flooding your nose and some upbeat jazz playing through the speakers.  Robin sits atop the counter much to the boss, Ronnie's dismay but he’s not around to scold her.  Her dirty blonde bob is freshly trimmed, bangs laying just right across her forehead while she has a lollipop sticking out her mouth and she skims through a magazine lazily.  One leg is hitched up onto the counter with her bright yellow converse on display, knee to her chest.  She’s wearing jeans with a few holes and a vintage tee.  Her bright blue eyes glance up and land on you, face lighting up as she greets you.  “Hey, Robin!” you greet back, making your way behind the counter to clock in on the computer.  

“You’re lucky, it’s been dead for hours.” she says while setting aside the magazine.  “Think it’s gonna rain too so it’ll probably stay that way.” she continues.  

“Good, I can probably catch up on some homework then.” you hum, punching in your employee number.

“Oh and some new guy is supposed to close with you tonight, I think you’re training him.” she mentions.

“So, no catching up on homework then.” you sigh.  Training someone new wasn't necessarily difficult however it was draining since you already knew how to do everything like the back of your hand.  Dumbing it all down always took a minute since you had to slow down and give them time to catch on.  

“Did Ronnie say who?” you ask, turning to face Robin.  Hawkins was small which meant that everyone knew everyone.  Which was unfortunate sometimes since that also meant everyone knew everyone's business.

Robin hops off the counter, hair bouncing as she does.  “Nope, I just know that it's some dude.” she crunches down on her lollipop and discards the stick in the garbage a few feet away.  

With a sigh, you head to the back room to put your bag in your locker only to find Steve lounging at the lunch table, his feet crossed on top of it while scrolling through his phone and two legs of the chair he occupies off the ground as he balances.  Today he sports some red corduroy pants and an ivory crewneck sweater finished off with converse, just like Robin’s, only black.  “What’s up?” he greets, not once looking up from his phone.  

“Scrolling through Tinder again, Stevie?” you mock while setting your bag in your locker for safe keeping, hooking the lock around the metal and clicking it into place.

“Actually, it’s Grindr.” he says matter of factly.  

“My bad, you find anyone cute?” you ask, peering over his shoulder, his aftershave smelling subtle and pleasant.   

He lands on a cute blonde guy with green eyes, most likely from a town over.  “Not really.” he exhales, running a hand through his voluminous hair.  

“Well what about him?  He’s pretty cute.” you encourage.  

“Dude, it says he likes to do Karaoke for fun.” he glances behind at you with a raised brow.  You shrug, unaware of why that would deter him.  

“If that's not a red flag, I don’t know what is.” he states, shutting his phone off and shoving it in his pocket while standing, making his way to the vending machine.  “What happened to me, Socks?  I used to pull 'em left and right and now no guy or girl will give me the time of day.”  Socks was your nickname given by Steve and Robin after the dreadful incident where a pipe burst from one of the sinks and you happened to be standing in front of it, the bottom half of your pants along with your socks becoming soaked.  The rest of the evening you worked your shift without shoes, only in your sopping wet socks with your jeans rolled up.  It had been an ongoing joke since, although you always reminded them how horrible it is to go around in wet shoes, the squeaky sound they would make against the floor and the squishiness of the soles.  They always disagreed, insisting that it would be worse to work in only socks and how they’d just opt to continue wearing the drenched shoes.  

“Steve, I think Grindr and Tinder and all the dating apps might be giving you unrealistic expectations.” you tell him truthfully.  

“Okay, but who the hell else am I gonna find in Hawkins?  Been there, done that, this is my only option."  He inserts a dollar into the vending machine and punches in his selection, shortly after a bag of pretzels falls.  

“Pretzels, Steve?  Really?” you taunt.  “How bland of you.” you deadpan.  He pulls open the packaging and tosses a pretzel in his mouth all while giving you his signature pout.  “Maybe that's your issue, you dumb yourself down for these people you don’t even know.” you continue.

“Wow.” he raises his arms in disbelief, a hint of humor evident.  “That…” he flings a pretzel at you, hitting your chest.  “...was mean.” he sasses.  “But probably true.” he finishes.  “Don’t you have a job or something?” his head tilts toward the door.  

“Yeah, and so do you.” you shoot back, grabbing his apron from where it hung over one of the breakroom chairs and throwing it at him.  

Exiting the room, you hear Steve chime in one more time.  “I’m off in like fifteen!”  Your shifts always overlapped with Steve and Robin’s, them usually taking the morning to afternoon shift and you taking over closing.  Ronnie would always hang out in the back office so you didn’t have to close alone but that was pretty much the extent of his labor.  The beans needed to be ground for the next day, chairs stacked on the tables, bathroom tidied, ingredients prepped, counters wiped down, etc.  And you were always the one to do it, not that you minded so much.  Ronnie never micromanaged and you had gotten good at closing so it became somewhat of a meditation time.  The town winded down and the dim lighting provided a relaxing glow, almost as if you were in a spa.  You could at least pretend anyway.

Robin was making herself a latte, carefully pouring the milk over the coffee in an attempt to make a design.  She’d been practicing for weeks with no success.  “Dammit!  Another wasted latte!” she slams the small pitcher of cream onto the counter.  

“That for me?” you question over her shoulder, spotting the blob of white draped over the coffee.  You ended up drinking them most of the time, always looking forward to your daily latte handcrafted by Robin.  

Letting a breath out, she hangs her head in defeat.  “It is now.” 

Steve saunters out from the back, stopping in his tracks right next to Robin.  “Another one?  Seriously?” he mutters before continuing to the espresso machine to make probably his fourth drink of the day.  

“When is the new guy scheduled to come in?” you ask as you pour yourself an iced coffee.  Everyone was allowed one free drink a day however it was never enforced unless the owner, Ronnie’s mom was around.  She owned The Under-Ground while her husband owned The Hideout.

“5:30, I think?” Robin answers.  The clock on the register currently reads 5:20.  Steve glances at you, trying to hide a smirk as he quickly looks in the other direction.  

“What?” you demand.  Shaking his head he continues pouring an espresso shot into paper to go cup.  A tug on his sleeve doesn’t get him to budge.  “Steve, why did you give me that look?!” you hound him.  

“Nothing!” he raises his hands in defense, a shit eating grin on his face.  

“Steve.” you narrow your eyes at him, brows knit in frustration.  

“Yeah, Steve.  What do you know that I don’t?” Robin steps towards him while crossing her arms in offense.  

“Nothing!” He lies, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Steve.” Robin glares at him.

“Y’know, this is already getting to me.” he points to his cup.  “I gotta run to the bathroom.” he rushes to the back once again, holding his stomach and pretending to grimace in pain.

“What’s up with him?” you look at Robin, the two of you left standing there without any idea.  She shrugs, handing you the botched latte she just made.  

Pushing aside your theories, you begin setting up for your shift, restocking the cups and making sure there’s enough whip cream in the canister.  The Under-Ground had a very cozy vibe, dark mahogany woods decorating the interior, little twinkly lights draped above the windows, and a snug book nook tucked away in the back corner with large shelves that took up the whole wall.  Accompanying it are a few tables and chairs, their wood matching the counter and on top of each table sits various houseplants that you’d have to remind yourself to water.  

Robin tops off the pastries as she always does at the end of her shift, adding some chocolate croissants, blueberry muffins, brownies, and a brand new lemon loaf to the case.  She finishes off by wiping off the glass with a rag and then ensures the display of gift cards and bags of coffee beans on the counter is dusted off and pristine.  

You busy yourself by restocking the to-go sandwiches in the open cooler at the front of the counter, making a note to also grab a few more parfaits from the back since those were running low as well.  A few books are scattered among one of the tables so you take it upon yourself to collect them and tuck them neatly back on the book shelf.  Other than that, nothing else is left to do and you should be ready to start training the new hire without any distractions.  You reward yourself by sipping on the latte, the bitter taste gracing your tongue and warmth coating your throat.  Robin disappears to the back briefly, coming back out with her bag while shoving her apron into it, ready to clock out the second it hits 5:30.

The roaring of an engine suddenly echoes in the streets, an obnoxious sputtering filling your ears as you glance up and out of the front window.  It comes to a screeching halt as a motorcycle pulls up into one of the parking spots horizontally rather than vertically like the rest of the vehicles.  Jackass, you think to yourself as the owner kicks the kickstand down.  He wears a standard black motorcycle helmet, a leather jacket, ripped black jeans, and some combat boots, a walking stereotype for some kind of punk ass kid.  

Jim Hopper catches him, his cop car parked a few spaces away while he does his crossword in the driver’s seat.  You can’t quite make out what's being said but as Hopper exits his car in a hurry,  you can tell they have most likely had run-ins like this before.  The jackass looks up in aggravation as he still straddles the bike, the sky reflected in the visor of his helmet.  Hopper appears to be telling him off but not giving him a ticket when he most definitely should.  Jackass reparks the bike correctly, gesturing to it as if he’d performed a magic trick, Hopper with a hand on his hip and a scowl on his face.  He points a finger at him, muttering one last thing before retreating back to his own car, eyes never leaving the guy.  

Steve emerges from the back again, carefully.  “Shit.” he mumbles.

Your gaze moves from the scene outside to behind you at Steve who is also now looking out the window.  This provokes you to look back outside.  Just as you’re about to ask, the jackass removes his helmet, revealing a head of wild brunette curls, his hand adorned in chunky rings as he grips the helmet.  Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention back to inputting some inventory in the computer.  Out of the corner of your eye you can see that he’s making his way toward the door.  “Are you kidding me?” you say under your breath.  

“Thought trendy coffee wasn’t his style.” you say to no one in particular.  Steve inhales as if waiting for some kind of impact.  

“Oh…” Robin says in some kind of realization.  

The bell above the door rings as he swings it open, striding across the shop and in front of the counter, his eyes are a dark abyss as he looks from you to Robin and then to Steve.  

“Munson.” Steve acknowledges him.

“Harrington.” he says back, a tinge of disgust rolling off his tongue.  Robin’s eyes are wide as they shift between you two.

“What do you want, Eddie?” you bite, voice full of malice as you glare up at him.

Bringing his hand to his chest, his face contorting into a mock pout, he sets the helmet on the counter.  “Ouch.  That make you feel better, sweetheart?”  Sarcasm drips from his tone.

You scoff about to tell him to leave but he just continues.  “Make you feel all big and bad?  Get it out of your system yet?” he taunts, a smirk playing on his lips.  

“Oh no.” Robin says quietly, leaning over you to clock out and then subtly making her way around the counter.  

“Why don’t you get the hell out of here and find someone else to dick around with?” you snap, grabbing his helmet and forcing it into his hands. 

A cocky look takes over his features.  “Well what if I’m a paying customer?” 

 “I have the right to refuse service so, I’m refusing.” you can feel anger coursing through your veins, blood running hot.  

“That’s unfortunate.” he frowns, moving to make his way behind the counter.  “For you.” his stare burns into you, two black holes nearly swallowing you up.  

“I don’t have time-” you begin but are cut off when he reaches over you and starts typing away at the computer, clocking in.  His cheap cologne and cigarette smoke flood your nose.

Steve looks at you apologetically as Eddie passes him on his way to the back.  A silence lingers as you process that you’ll be forced to work with the one person in this town you can’t stand.  Eddie Munson was the new hire and of course he had to be scheduled on the closing shift with you.  Life couldn’t get any worse than this, a shitty apartment, and now a shitty job that you used to love combined with mountains of homework.  Your eternal hell.  Work was supposed to be a place you could briefly escape.  Sure it was still work but you didn’t mind.

“Steve!” both you and Robin scold him at the same time.  He squeezes his eyes shut in preparation for more yelling.  

“You knew Ronnie hired him and you just didn’t tell me!” you seethe.  “You could have warned me!  I could have switched shifts or something-or, or–or tell Ronnie he’s a criminal or something!  So he wouldn’t get hired!” your eyes are bulging out of your head as you reprimand the poor guy.  

“Okay, see, the way you're reacting right now doesn’t give me any confidence that you would have reacted any differently if I told you earlier.” Steve explains while clocking out.  

“So you think springing it on her like that was any better!” Robin says loudly.  Steve contemplates for a moment.

“Look, Socks.  I’m sorry.” he apologizes sincerely.  

“Socks?” Eddie stands in the doorway that leads to the back, now free of his leather jacket and wearing a black Metallica tee.  “What kinda fucked up thing did you do for a nickname like that?” he asks, a smug grin on his face.

“Oh, kill me now.” you drag your hands down your face in agony.  Steve and Robin slowly make their way toward the front door, looking at you sympathetically.

“See you tomorrow?” Robin awkwardly points finger guns at you before they speed up and shuffle out the door.

You sigh heavily, dropping your arms limply to your sides.  Turning around, Eddie is about to speak up again but you cut him off. 

“I don’t wanna hear it.  You don’t talk unless it's about work.  I’ll train you today and then I’ll ask Ronnie to move you to mornings or something.” you tell him in one breath.  

He laughs before replying.  “You’d like that wouldn’t you?  Hate to be the bearer of bad news but you’re stuck with me, doll.” he chuckles lowly.  “I only work nights.” he says with that stupid grin.  

“Who did I piss off for this to happen?” you mumble to yourself, rubbing at your temples.  “Put this on.” you shove an apron at his chest.

He grunts at the impact.  “No.” he simply says, refusing to grab it from you.  His expression is blank.

Scoffing, you shove it against him even harder.  “This is work.  We work here.  Stop acting like a damn child.” you say sternly.  

Now taking the apron in his hand, you think he’s finally come to his senses until he bunches it up and tosses it onto one of the counters, eliciting a groan from you.  You were foolish to think he would play nice.

–

Trying to train Eddie was as useful as training a fly.  He didn’t listen and would purposely mess things up claiming he didn’t know any better and he almost charged one of your only customers that night double the actual cost.  It was like watching a toddler, you couldn’t take your eyes away from him or all hell would break loose.  The cherry on top was all the snide comments he would make which led to more bickering.  

When it came to closing time at 9:00, you were exhausted and could practically feel the eyebags hanging off your face.  There was not enough espresso in the world to keep up with Eddie’s antics.  You were counting the money from the register, making sure all was accounted for, Eddie watching as he was supposed to be learning when really he was zoned out.  

“Alright, Socks, are we done here?” he says with a bored tone.  

You glance between him and the cash, still counting under your breath while ignoring him.  Poking your arm, he tries again.  “Socks.  I got things to do.” he continues.  “Hey, I’m talking to you–”

“--Oh my god, just go.” you break, finally completing your counting and setting the money back in the drawer neatly.  

“Fuck yeah.” he whispers, rushing to the back to collect his things.  Pinching the bridge of your nose, you only hope he quits before you have to work another shift with him.  Eddie wasn’t just an asshole, he was the asshole who was partially responsible for your shitty high school experience.  You know it's dumb, there’s no reason to let something keep a hold on you for so long but it just does.  It makes you cringe, it's like the equivalent to peaking in high school but opposite, and yet you can’t seem to look past it.

Nothing but the twinkly lights and the dim overhead lights lit up the shop, a moment of peace taking over you while the town outside laid itself to rest.  Shutting off the music and untying your apron to drape it over your arm, you do one more scan to make sure everything is set for tomorrow.  Satisfied, you head to the back to retrieve your bag.  Eddie passes you, almost running you over on his way out, his stupid helmet in hand.  

“See ya tomorrow, Socks.” he salutes as he clocks out, shortly after you hear the bell chime signaling that he had left.  He was overusing that nickname but you knew it would only please him to call it out.  You had to keep your cool until he figured out he didn’t fit in here and quit.  Exhaling, you unlock your locker, grabbing your bag and tossing your apron in before exiting and heading for the door.  

The door is locked and double checked as you step out onto the sidewalk only to find that it was still raining.  Just my luck.  Eddie’s dumb motorcycle roars to life again a few feet away from you, a nuisance to the tranquil town around you.  Rolling your eyes, you begin your damp journey home.  It’s not until you’re in front of the movie theater that you hear that damn bike behind you.  You think he’s going to speed past you, maybe splash some water on you while he’s at it but the engine rumbles as if right next to you–which it was.  

“Are you lost?” you spit, continuing to walk.  

He rides beside you slowly, irritating you to your core.  “Need a ride home?” he asks, slightly muffled by his helmet.  

You huff before responding.  “No.  I don’t need anything from you.  Get the hell out of here.”  You keep your gaze straight ahead as you walk, him still following behind.

“Sweetheart–”

“--Do NOT call me that.  Ever.  Again.” you scold, taking a moment to point your finger at him, your face displaying disdain toward him.

“Look, I may be an asshole but it's raining.  I can give you a ride.” he coaxes but it doesn’t work.  You keep on, the rain drops collecting on your eyelashes.  

“Get bent, Eddie.” you say, now walking faster, hoping to evade him.

He lifts the visor on the helmet, now showing his eyes as he keeps up with you.  “Get on the damn bike.”

“Fuck you.” you snap at him.

Desperate, you start jogging across the crosswalk and that's when he gives up.  Glancing behind you, he flips the visor down and revs the bike before speeding off.  You weren’t stupid and you weren’t going to play into his little sadist games.  Life was already steamrolling you and you did not need some jackass to factor into it.  After a few minutes of walking, you finally rounded the corner and the faded powder blue apartments came into view, street lights illuminating the way.  The streets were sleek with rain and oil, giving off reflections of the traffic lights and buildings.  You were careful to scurry your way across the parking lot to avoid any of the creeps that hung around late at night.  It wasn’t exactly the best area, being notorious for drug deals and any other illegal side hustles.  

Raphael’s spot on the stairs was vacant due to the downpour which you frowned at, you always looked forward to seeing him upon coming home.  A few skeezy looking men stood nearby however they seemed to be involved in their own drama as they argued and took no interest in you.  Gratefully, you continued quietly up the stairs and hurriedly unlocked the door, jamming the key in the lock until it gave out to you.  

Slipping into your nightly routine, you begin to unwind as much as you can.  A quick shower awaited you since the hot water was limited and you couldn’t wait to munch on one of the sandwiches you snagged from work.  In your defense Ronnie had ordered way too many for the week and the back fridge was overflowing with them.  The local deli they came from, Anderson’s had some fairly good quality meats and cheeses so for that you were thankful as they pretty much kept you fed.  Tonight’s would be turkey and swiss with mayo on sourdough, your favorite.  The lights flickered on as you hit the switch, another quirk that came with the run down apartment.  The living room and entryway were now bathed in a warm and quite dim glow, or in other words if you wanted to read a book, it’d be quite difficult to see.  Shivering from being drenched in rain, you set your bag on the kitchen counter adjacent to the entryway and start taking off your damp clothes, peering into your room to toss them into the hamper and slipping into the bathroom.  It was a tight space, not a whole lot of room to do much but it was home.  

Turning the faucet to ‘hot’, you wait for the water to get warm enough to bear, the fluorescent lighting of the bathroom still bothered you no matter how long you lived there.  You stood on the bath mat feeling the water with your finger until it was to your satisfaction, stepping in and feeling welcomed by the sudden warmth you’d been waiting for all day.  In that moment you feel relief from the pressures of the world, the deadlines, bills, loans, essays, all of it.  Everything melts away for approximately three minutes and that's when the water starts to turn cold again, returning you back to the dreadful reality you wish you could neglect.  

But to your dismay, the cycle just starts all over again, keeping you hostage.

~end~

Next ->

Masterlist

tags - @mmunson86 @haylaansmi

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #eddie x you #eddie x fem reader #eddie x female reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson angst #barista!eddie #eddie munson fic #eddie fic #eddie munson smut #stranger things fic #eddie munson fluff #the under ground

[eashmo]

-Welcome Home-

Warnings: SMUT and small fluff

A/N: I seriously have so many short stories that I need to finish for Eddie, Billy, and Steve.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It has been 3 months since I last saw my precious boyfriend. Eddie was on tour with his band Corroded Coffin. After so long,  the phone calls just didn't even begin to cut it anymore. I needed him, I craved his kisses and cuddles. He was coming home today, so I decided to give him a surprise welcome home. 

I grinned at Eddie as he entered our bedroom, watching him closely as he stood there smirking as i fucked myself with a dildo, and his eyes didn’t move away from it. I brought my other hand down to rub my clit, my fingers gliding over it easily. 

“Welcome home, rockstar.” I moaned out. 

“You couldn’t have just waited until I got here?” He asked, but he couldn’t even pretend to look disappointed.

“I figured you’d enjoy a surprise,” I breathed heavily. The dildo was a perfect shape and size, hitting my G spot perfectly. It was the same size as him. Which was perfect when we had phone sex. It felt like he was there when he was miles away from me. But I craved the real thing every day.

“Oh trust me, babygirl, I’m enjoying it,” he smirked. He ran a hand over the bulge in his boxers, hearing the pet name made me wetter, biting my lip as I rubbed my clit faster as I pumped the dildo in and out of me. Eddie watched intently, his eyes going darker by the second.

“Feels so good, Eds,” I whimpered. 

“I’ll bet it does,” he groaned, taking out his cock from his boxers, jacking himself off to the sight of me “keep going, babygirl”

I did as he told me, and I began to move my wrist fast and bring myself close to the edge. I stopped before I came, not wanting to let go before Eddie got his hands on me. I pulled it out of me slowly, his eyes completely dark when he saw how much it stretched me out as it popped out “I need you baby” I breathed. 

He startled me when he roughly grabbed my ankles and pulled me closer to him, 

He kisses my lips, moving down to my neck, making me moan. He circles my sensitive clit with his thumb, making me cry out more. I bite his neck firmly, which always drove him crazy. I rake my nails roughly down his back.

“Eddie please” I gasp into his shoulder. 

He grabs my hips, and runs the tip of his cock over my soaking core before he roughly shoves himself inside of me, making me cry out loudly. I need him in me. Now. He gives me a second to adjust to his thick member before pulling out and slamming back into me over and over and over. He picks up his pace, leaning over me to rest one hand on the headboard, to use it as leverage. I was not going to last long like this. This man knows exactly how to please me. He knows I love it rough.

“Fuck i’ve missed this pussy…” He growls into my neck. My hands grab a fistful of his hair, making him groan again.

“Eddie…” I whine. I was getting dangerously close, and he knew it.

“Don't you dare...cum…” he warns me. He began thrusting harder, driving me even closer to the edge. I try my best to hold back my quickly approaching orgasm.

“baby...please…”

“Please what?” He says in a low voice, beginning to lose control of his rhythm. He is close, too.

“Please let me cum…” I whine.

He continues his now erratic thrusting, and relentless playing with my oversensitive clit for a moment. “Cum with me, babygirl” He whispers in my ear. I shout his name as I am consumed with wave after wave of pleasure.

 “y/n” I hear him groan, finding his own release. His fingers on my hip dig into my flesh, definitely leaving his mark. He collapses on top of me, breathing heavily. He slowly drags himself to lay next to me, pulling me with him. I turn to face him and snuggle up to him.

“God, I've missed you y/n…” He says; his voice deep and gravelly.

“I missed you too.” I say, running my hand up, resting it over his heart. “I love you, eds”

“I love you too, baby girl. Also, thank you for the welcome home sex” 

“Anytime, baby”

 We both laughed as we savored the moment of him finally being back home. Back into my arms.

masterlist

2023

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie munson rockstar au #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson scenarios #jospeh quinn

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

We're strangers these days (but that has to be enough)

damn your love, damn your lies - series masterlist here

pairing: roy harper x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.3k

genre: angst (happy ending to come <3)

warnings: ex bf roy harper but I promise they're gonna get back together (eventual happy ending), reader is kinda stressed and unwell, reader also wears glasses, hopeful ending here

a/n: is this any good bc you know sometimes I can't tell

You ignore the first knock on your apartment door. You know who it is. You know because it's always him, and because the sound of his fist against the wood of your door is something you've heard so many times. You don't bother turning the volume on your TV down - he knows you're here and he knows you're ignoring him. Whatever.

But he knocks again, a heavier, more insistent sound. This time you pull yourself up, walking listlessly towards your door to pull it open.

"You ignoring me now, sunshine?" Roy drawls, leaning against your doorframe.

"What do you want this time, Roy?" You sigh. Usually, by this point, he'd flash that stupidly smug grin of his and let himself into your home. This time, however, is different. This time, he looks you up and down briefly, frowning a bit as he takes in your state - messy hair, undereye bags, and oversized clothes. He shrugs.

"I think I left something of mine here. Lemme come in and take a look?" He walks in while he says it, not waiting for an answer.

"We've been broken up for months, Roy. Eventually, you're going to run out of fake belongings to come over here and sniff around for," you say as you cross your arms. Roy just grins in that annoying way of his.

"You mind if I check the bedroom?" he throws over his shoulder as he heads down the hall. You hear your bedroom door open and you rub a hand against your forehead, trying to ward off your oncoming headache as you slouch down onto your couch. You know he'll be back out as soon as he's had enough of pretending to search for something that doesn't exist. 

Your nails tap against the arm of the couch as you wait, time stretching on as you strain to hear any sort of sound from him. He's in your bedroom, shuffling things around and opening and closing drawers. The door of your closet slides open and your heart clenches - what you're hearing now is no different than what you heard when he lived here with you, when this was home for the two of you. You dig the heels of your palms into your closed eyes and try to rid the word from your mind. Home.

"What the hell happened in there?" is what Roy finally says when he leaves your room, sitting down next to you, close enough that his thigh brushes against yours. You straighten and stand at the contact, huffing and moving to stand in front of him. 

"What are you talking about?"

"It's… a mess in your bedroom. I've never seen it any way other than spotless." Roy points out. You scowl at him.

"You've lost your right to comment on my living situation," you say icily. "And you've overstayed your welcome - again." Roy settles further into the cushions, arms crossing to mimic yours as he looks you up and down. You glare back - you'd never been the one to break during fights with him, and that isn't something you're planning on changing now.

"I didn't know you wore glasses," he says finally, his voice dropping to a gentle murmur. You reel back and touch the frames on your face.

"I wear contacts," you point out.

"Not right now."

"Why does it matter?" You pull the glasses off and move to toss them onto the coffee table. He catches them, though, and you curse his vigilante reflexes as he turns them over in his hands.

"I've never seen you like this," he muses. You shift on your feet.

"Like what?"

"Not… put together. Not all dolled up." Your glare turns lethal at Roy's words and he blinks up at you.

"Thank you," you reply sarcastically. Roy rolls his eyes, your bite something he's intimately familiar with. He stares at you, then, sizing you up in a way that makes you straighter subconsciously, a hand running through your hair.

"We lived together, you know," he says lowly.

"Yes, I'm aware."

"I never saw you like this," he points out. You step away from him, moving to sit in the armchair tucked in the opposite corner of your living room.

"No one sees me like this," you remind him. Roy huffs and stares down at the glasses still in his hand.

"I know," he says bitterly. "That was the problem, wasn't it? You never let me really see you."

"You saw more than anyone else," you defend, but even now, your posture straightens and you smooth down your shirt. Roy glares at the movement.

"It was never enough," he says eventually.

"I was never enough," you correct him.

"No," he shoots back. "You were - you were everything to me. But you didn't… you couldn't let me be anything to you." His hand tightens around your glasses and he puts them on the coffee table quickly, rubbing his palm up and down the denim covering his thigh as he thinks of all the other things he almost broke between the two of you.

"You were… more to me than I ever could've told you," you say slowly, your voice quiet as you keep your eyes trained on the floor. Roy sighs, rubbing a hand against his forehead.

"I'm sorry," he offers, an olive branch extended. "I shouldn't have dragged this back up. I just… what's going on with you, sunshine?"

"Nothing," is your quick response. He arches a brow.

"You don't look well," Roy points out, wincing internally as your glare snaps back to him.

"That's none of your business anymore, Roy. You lost the right to care about me when you left me."

"Come on, don't be like that…" he pleads as you stand, heading to your front door. He trails after you, just like he always has - just like he always will. "Just because we're not together anymore doesn't mean you're not important to me still."

"Goodbye, Roy," you say pointedly, standing next to your door with your arms crossed. He plants himself opposite you, matching your glare.

"What is wrong with you?" He huffs. "Why won't you let me in? Why won't you let me help you?"

"I don't need -"

"But I can -"

"Please don't, Roy," you soften in a way that throws him off balance, your shoulders slumping as your hands bunch the fabric of your shirt. "I don't want to fight with you… I don't like it."

"Neither do I, sunshine," he says softly, uncrossing his arms and relaxing his posture. "But I'm worried about you." You smile at him, but it's a small, sad thing that makes his heart break a little bit more.

"I'm ok, Roy," you say quietly. He sighs and steps towards you. You let him, to his surprise.

"I know you are. I know you can handle this all on your own, but… you don't have to. I'm here, still - always." You don't respond to him, your eyes big and glassy as you look up at him. When he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead you let him, your hands reaching to brush against his shirt, almost like you want to hold onto him.

"Time to go now, Roy," is what you say instead, but your voice is missing its usual bite. Roy steps away, opening your door and looking back at you one last time before he leaves.

"Oh…" he says. "I didn't get what I was here for. That, uh… thing that I'm missing. Oh well, I'm sure I'll find it next time I come around." The grin he flashes you makes you huff as he closes the door behind him. 

Rubbing a hand over the back of your neck, you walk back to your living room to slump into the couch where he had just been, your glasses sitting abandoned on the coffee table. As you pick them up, you eye the messy fingerprints he's left on the lenses. Somehow, you find they don't bother you, and you toss the glasses back onto the table without cleaning them. Oh well - you can harp on him about it next time he comes around.

#smsn.writes #roy harper #roy harper x reader #roy harper x you #roy harper x yn #roy harper imagine #roy harper oneshot #arsenal #arsenal x reader