#I think there's a longing for a friend in that cry too

[cupid-styles]

a helping hand*

in which y/n can't orgasm and harry is a helpful ex-friend with benefits.

word count: 3.3k

content warnings: mentions of depression/mental health and anti-depressants, discussions of reduced libido, smut (phone sex, mentions of sex toys, dirty talk, description of group sex and mmf threesomes)

this one goes out to all the besties on anti-depressants

masterlist | talk to me

. . .

“No.”

“But—”

“No.”

Harry sighs in frustration before crossing his arms over his chest. If he pursed his raspberry lips into a pout, he’d look more like a petulant child than the young adult Y/N’s known for the past few years. With a roll of her eyes, she lifts her glass to her mouth and takes a healthy swig of her coke and rum. She allows herself to scan the interior of the bar — it’s just barely 6 pm on a Wednesday so she’s not surprised that it’s primarily filled with locals and teams of corporate offices decompressing after a long day. 

“I could always make you come when we hooked up and I bet you I could still do it.”

“Christ, Harry, give it a rest,” Y/N replies, narrowing her eyes at the curly haired brunette. “It’s not just with partners, it’s me, too.”

He quirks an eyebrow and settles his elbows on the sticky table. She huffs when she realizes she’s only piqued his attention even more now that she’s revealed another inkling of her… problem. 

“Can you just tell me what’s going on, then? You know, when I texted you for our semiannual catch up, I didn’t think we’d be getting into your sudden inability to orgasm, but—”

“Can you lower your voice?” Y/N hisses with wide eyes. “I didn’t think we would talk about this either but you’re the one who asked if I’m seeing anyone—”

“Yeah, seeing anyone, not coming for anyone—”

“Just shut up!” she mutters, nearly knocking over her almost-finished drink. “If I tell you, you have to drop it.”

“I can’t promise that.”

“Harry…”

“As your ex-friend with benefits, I have no duty to keep secrets that aren’t about our bedroom-related rendezvouses.” 

“There hasn’t been a ‘rendezvous’ in five years.”

“There could be.”

She sighs and presses her fingertips to her temples. This is why she and Harry never worked out. They’re total opposites — he has the energy of a rowdy golden retriever and she exudes a calm, monotone nature. (She thinks she’s borderline boring if you ask her, but that’s something she’s been saving for therapy.) 

At parties in college, he was always the one working the room, chatting with everyone while she stood in the corner and clutched her solo cup for dear life. 

He had a million contacts in his phone and people remembered him, even if they knew each other from something as small as working together on a project in a class three semesters ago. 

Meanwhile, Y/N could spend two years straight working in the same office and someone would still ask her when she started working there because she looked “new”.

(Seriously. It happened last month, and she had to rush to the bathroom to cry.)

Despite their opposing personalities, they did work for a while, but only as friends with benefits. To begin with, Y/N never wanted anything more — when they started hooking up, they were nearing their senior year of college, and she didn’t want to be tied down to anyone or anything when making decisions about her future. But secretly, she knew feelings for Harry would inevitably pop up. How could they not? Although he was an annoying ball of energy sometimes, bouncing off the walls of her apartment before they even made it to her bedroom, he was kind. He had a good heart — he still does after all these years, otherwise Y/N would never bother meeting up with him without the intention of hooking up — and he was funny, and he made Y/N feel all warm and gooey inside. He was a good fuck, too, and as much as she wanted to widdle his presence down to being purely physical, she wasn’t strong enough for that. 

She was grateful, albeit heartbroken, when six months after their arrangement began, Harry very sweetly told her he had a crush on a girl in his advanced sculpture class and wanted to go for it. As she swallowed a lump in her throat, she told him that was perfectly fine, that she was glad he told her, and that she hoped things worked out between him and Emily.

(They did. For two and a half years. Y/N had never been so thankful when graduation arrived and she could run as far away as possible from the couple.)

Harry tried his best to keep in touch, even after graduating while he was dating Emily — always commenting on her Instagram posts and responding to her stories, even occasionally texting her to wish her well on her birthday or major holidays. Y/N kept him at an arm’s length for as long as she could. That is, until he moved to her city last year.

The only reason why Y/N had a heads up is because of an Instagram story he posted. In his typical overly excited way, he posted a picture of his dog in his new apartment with one of those tacky, premade location tags. (She’s allowed to think they’re ugly — she’s a graphic designer.) So, it didn’t come as a surprise when a week or two later, a text popped up from an unknown number: Hey Y/N! Not sure if this is still your number or if you still have mine, but it’s Harry :) I just moved to your city and was wondering if we could get together! It would be great to see you.

Thus began the tradition of Harry and Y/N’s semiannual meetups. 

It was an unsaid routine they followed — every six months or so, one of them would text the other for drinks or coffee or lunch. They only ever met up in public and they didn’t talk much outside of their scheduled hangouts, though Harry was much more prone to messaging her stupid memes and, on occasion, a picture of his dog, a husky named Fish. 

Much to Y/N’s dismay, the chemistry between her and Harry was still very much there. It had been apparent from their first meetup last February. It was difficult not to flirt, especially when he brought up their past (she would happily pretend none of it ever happened if it meant Harry Styles never made her blush ever again). The thing is, though, is it was fine as long as nothing ever came of it. 

Until now. 

Because as Y/N sits across from Harry in the worn booth of a dive bar a block away from her apartment, she can’t believe she’s seriously considering letting him back in her bed.

“Can you just tell me what you think the problem is?” Harry asks. He slides his elbow onto the table and presses his knuckles up against his cheek, like they’re best friends giggling over some silly gossip. It makes Y/N want to elbow him in the ribs.

“It’s a biological issue,” she mutters, “Like I said, nothing you could fix. Even if I wanted you to.”

“Just spit it out, blossom.”

She narrows her eyes, though she finds it difficult to ignore the way her stomach flips at the familiar nickname. “You’re not allowed to call me that anymore.”

“Tell me what the issue is and I won’t call you that,” he replies easily. “C’mon, it’s me. Remember all the times I helped you pee when you were too drunk to sit up straight? We’ve definitely seen each other in more embarrassing situations before.”

Y/N sighs loudly. He has a point — there was a time where Harry knew her better than anyone else in the world. And frankly, she hasn’t talked to anyone about her problem. 

Scooching her body forward, she attempts to close most of the gap between them. Harry leans closer and she rolls her eyes. To an outsider's perspective, they probably looked like they were performing some kind of sketchy drug deal or like little girls swapping secrets at a slumber party.

“Remember how I struggled with, um… getting pretty sad?”

Harry’s eyebrows draw together and he nods. 

“Right, so it got… worse when I moved here. And I needed to find help, so I started seeing a psychiatrist who put me on antidepressants. They’ve helped a ton — I feel better, and the depression that I do feel is a lot less intense.”

“That’s great, Y/N,” he says, and she can tell he means it by the genuine tone to his voice. “What does that have to do with you not orgasming, though?”

She swallows tightly. “Well, my doctor increased my medication over the winter, and one of the side effects is…y’know. Decreased libido and whatnot.”

His eyes widen. “Oh, shit.”

“Yeah,” she snorts, leaning back against the cracked leather of the seat. “Oh, shit.”

“And you’ve tried vibrators and stuff?”

“Of course I have, I’m not an idiot.”

“So how long has it been?”

She nibbles on her bottom lip as she thinks. Even with flings that she’s had over the past few months, they all gave up at a certain point. The sex was still fun, but she was just the only one who wasn’t coming.

“Well, I can give them to myself if I… work at it,” she mumbles, folding her hands in her lap. “But with a partner? Probably… six months.”

“Six months?!”

The look on Harry’s face is dramatic and theatrical, as if she just told him she was moving halfway across the world and participating in some kind of 90 Day Fiance situation. 

“Shut. Up.” she says through grit teeth, sending him a harsh look. “I don’t need a reminder of how shitty it is.”

“Who the hell are you letting in your bed?” he demands sharply. 

“It can take me an hour, Harry, I don’t expect every person I sleep with to be that patient.”

“They should be, Y/N.”

With a shake of her head, she glances down at her phone on the table. Everything has always seemed so simple for Harry — he’s one of those people where things just come easily for him, no pun intended. A part of her wishes they never delved into the subject matter. Vulnerability somehow always bit her in the ass and this instance was no exception. 

“I’m gonna get going,” she says, pushing her empty glass to the center of the table. “Thank you for the drink, H. It was good to see you.”

His eyes soften as she begins to scooch her way out of the booth. Quickly, he throws a few bills down on the table and gets up to follow her. 

“Can I walk you out, please?” he asks, swallowing as his stomach brims with nerves. She nods, though he’s unsure if it’s a reluctant response. Silently, they leave the bar together, and he nibbles on his bottom lip as she pushes the front door open. The spring air is a welcomed breeze from the sticky interior of the establishment, and she shifts on her feet as she turns around to face him. She parts her lips as if she’s readying herself to bid him a final goodbye, but he beats her to it. 

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” he says as he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “I just meant— like, you deserve better, is all. Someone who will be patient and care to learn your body.”

Y/N nods slowly. “Right. And you’re that person.”

Her tone teeters on mocking and it sends a harsh hit straight to Harry’s chest. He shrugs.

“If you wanted me to be.”

She doesn’t reply to that, but she doesn’t make a move to leave, either. 

“I’ll think about it,” she finally says, and Harry’s eyebrows shoot up in shock. “My hand cramps up when I’ve been at it for too long. Maybe it’ll be nice to have someone else try.”

He huffs out a breathy laugh. “Just let me know and I’m there.”

. . .

A few days later, when Harry is at a friend’s house, he receives a text from Y/N: Are you free right now?

In all honesty, he’s surprised that she’s — assumingly — taking him up on his offer. Y/N remains to be one of the most stubborn people he’s ever known (one time she spent an entire week trying to put together a desk she’d purchased before asking anyone for help. The only reason why Harry was able to do it for her is because she’d called him over for a “destress fuck” and he finished it while she slept). 

He swipes down on her message, his other hand occupied by some shitty IPA Lizzy’s new boyfriend had bought. He keeps asking Harry if he likes it and he has to lie about tasting the hints of citrus, even though it tastes like every other crappy beer he’s consumed. 

At a friend’s house, he quickly types back, Why? Is your hand cramping?

He can basically feel her rolling her eyes as he bites back a smile, watching as the three dots appear to signal her impending response. 

Yes. I was wondering if you wanted to come over.

He’s unsurprised by the casual invitation on a Friday night at 9:40 p.m. (it seems that, as far as hookups go, Y/N hasn’t changed much since college). Nibbling on his bottom lip, he uses his free hand to type a response. 

I’m sorry, I would if I could. I’m trapped at this “apartment-warming” party for my friend. Apparently people host housewarmings even if they’re just renting a new place.

Y/N immediately types back: As much as I’d love to debate that with you, I’m really just looking for an orgasm. So if you’re busy, I’ll go back to buzzing at my numb clit.

Harry snorts at that before placing his beer on a coaster and excusing himself to the bathroom. Once he’s locked the door, he’s quick to pull up Y/N’s contact and press the pad of his thumb to her number. 

“Hello?”

She sounds confused and frustrated when she answers and Harry smirks at that.

“Hey,” he greets, leaning back against the white porcelain sink. “I’m calling about your orgasm.”

“You’re seriously not trying to have phone sex with me right now.” 

Her tone is as deadpan as it gets, and the monotone nature is enough to make a small bit of insecurity crawl into Harry’s stomach. 

“Well, I was planning on talking you through it. ‘S not really phone sex if only one person’s getting off, I think.”

She lets out a noisy sigh and there’s some rustling on the other side. He waits for her response and is surprised when she agrees. 

“Fine,” she huffs, and he can envision the way her eyebrow raises just slightly when she’s decided to give into something, “Let’s give it a try. Porn is getting boring anyway.”

“What were you watching?”

“Well, when you’ve been trying to come for 40 minutes, you end up in some… odd places,” she says. “I started out with lesbian porn, then found my way into threesomes, and somehow I ended up at double penetration.”

“Ah,” Harry nods, “Sounds like you’re having some sort of craving for group sex, then?” 

A pause. And then: “I guess. I’ve never tried it, I just think it’s hot.”

“What’s hot about it for you?”

He thinks he hears her swallow, but he can’t be completely sure. 

“I just like the idea of pleasing more than one person. I think that’s how I got to double penetration stuff.”

“Oh, I see. You want to be used.”

It’s blunt and it’s to the point, but he’s not wrong — he knows he’s not, because he slept with her for six months straight.

“I guess,” she replies non-committedly, “I guess it’s like… a fantasy of getting two people off and them feeling that way because of me. Through oral or… being inside of me, or whatever.”

“So what’s your threesome fantasy, then?” Harry pushes, though his tone teeters are near carelessness at this point, “Girl/boy? Boy/boy? Maybe it doesn’t matter. Who do you want to be between?”

Y/N exhales shakily, “I’ve never thought about it.” 

“Well, now you are.”

She doesn’t immediately reply, but he knows she responds well to the calloused persona he suddenly obtains. She’s always been this way — submissive and good, always looking to please him intimately. It’s too easy for him to put the pieces together and solve the puzzle.

“I guess I like the idea of being with two guys, but it doesn’t matter much to me.” she eventually decides.

“Okay. And in your deepest fantasies, what are these two men doing to you?”

Another pause, though he thinks he hears a shuttered sigh on the line. He doesn’t mention it — not yet at least.

“Maybe… maybe one’s inside of me and the other one’s in my mouth.”

“And how is he fucking you? Is he on top of you, missionary style, or are you on your hands and knees while he fucks you from behind?”

A breathy whimper departs Y/N’s lips and this time it’s loud enough for both of them to hear. He smirks at the sound of it. 

“I like the idea of him behind me. A-and the other one fucking my mouth.”

Harry hums, almost as if he’s praising her. “Close your eyes and envision it, then. Think about how you’re letting two men take advantage of you and use your body, just so they can get off. One’s fucking into you from behind, spanking your ass and grabbing your hips like you’re just some kind of toy to him. And the other one is thrusting deep into your mouth, making you choke, getting you all drooly for him. You’re nothing but a set of holes for them, honey. Isn’t that sweet?”

On the other line, all Harry hears is a series of shattered moans and low curses. Even though it’s been years, he can imagine the way her muscles are all tensed up, her pussy clenching around a dildo or her fingers. He wishes he would’ve asked so he could envision it, too.

“I-I think I’m gonna cum,” she whimpers out, and Harry palms himself through his trousers at the sound of her high-pitched mewls. 

“There you go, blossom. Atta girl, just let go. ‘S easy, let it go for me,” his voice is a near coo and it makes Y/N’s eyes roll back into her skull. It’s like he knows how easy it is for her brain to ping pong to other far less sexier thoughts — like the dirty plates in the dishwasher or the unfolded laundry in the corner of her bedroom — so he continues crooning through the receiver, his low, soft voice guiding her through every bump and ridge of her impending orgasm. 

When she comes, she comes hard, considering it’s been a solid two weeks since she’s been able to give herself an orgasm. It shoots through her entire body and, even with her eyes shut tight, the fantasy she created still plays through her brain — except now, it’s not two mystery men. Now, it’s just Harry fucking into her, all tan muscles and sweat pearling at his hairline. 

She’s boneless and exhausted when she finishes, her throat dry from the involuntary moans she let go. She only remembers she’s still on the phone with Harry when she hears him clear his throat, followed by a call of her name. 

“Hey, sorry,” she mumbles as her cheeks flush a deep red hue, “T-that was good. Thank you.”

“Yeah? You finished?”

If she had more energy, she would roll her eyes. Of course she finished. The entire neighborhood knows she finished.

“Yeah.” she mutters shortly. “Have a good time at your apartment-warming party.”

Harry huffs a laugh, “Yeah, ‘cos that’s what I’ll be thinking about for the rest of the night.”

She doesn’t have a chance to ask him what he means before he’s bidding her goodbye: “Let me know when you wanna do this again. I’m around this weekend.”

#writing #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one direction #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles au #one direction #harry's house #hs4 #fineline #harry styles smutty imagine #harry styles smutty fic

[vampiresbloodx]

warnings(18+ ONLY): smut, sub!reader, Dom!Wanda, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, teasing, blow jobs (on strap), spitting, slight praise, more degradation, rough s/x, strap on use, all of it is consensual, petnames use (good girl, baby).

emo!gf!Wanda uses you however she pleases and you gladly let her.

The first time she got a taste of you, she was obsessed. No, that wasn't a joke. No one has ever seen her been like this before about anyone. You bring out a completely different side to her than not even her best friend could know about.

Wanda claimed she didn't like girls, she always told herself she wasn't a lesbian and denied any rumours surrounding that.

It wasn't that she was ashamed, she didn't give zero fucks about their opinions. Maybe a little. That's what she was known for, her no bullshit attitude, the resting bitch face, someone to not fuck with.

Then she met you.

The cute adorable nerd who's too shy for their own good.

Wanda wanted to have you all to herself, and she did.

No one was allowed to touch you, flirt with you, go as far as to ask you out.

She would kill them.

Only you'd have to stop her from even putting them in the hospital.

Even if you were left alone for a few hours, minutes, seconds, if someone tried to come at you, she would randomly pop up out of nowhere scaring the hell out of them.

But not you.

She liked that.

She really liked you.

What she liked most was making you come as many times as she wanted. How you squirm under her gaze and touch, just one look and you're begging on your knees, it drives her insane. She has to use you.

You gladly accept it. Because you know she likes you. That's all you wanted.

You've had a crush on her for as long as you can remember, and you weren't the type to crush on people easily. Sure, they'd come, but they would never last that long.

And yet with Wanda, you knew you'd do anything she asked. She was the prettiest girl you've ever met, you just wanted her attention, her everything.

Wanda knew that too.

And she used it to her advantage.

"aw, is my pretty baby already soaking wet?" She cooed, slipping her fingers inside of your tight hole, moaning when she feels your walls clench around her. "Fucking hell, I've never fucked anyone who's pussy was just dripping, begging to be touched."

You whined, bucking your hips into her but she forced them down, glaring at you.

"now, you know I'm gonna have my way with you, I'll let you come once I know you've behaved well, don't move" she demanded.

Your body shuddered, somehow you listened, you always did.

There were times where you liked being a brat, getting the worst out of her was fun, however, this time you really didn't want to mess around.

"good girl" she cooed gently, her voice sending a shiver down your spine, she didn't waste anytime, nor did she back down with starting slow and easy, practically splitting you open with her fingers hard enough that'll make you cry.

Wanda smiled wickedly, watching your every move and reaction, your mouth gaped open, your eyes never leaving hers, fuck, it drove her wild.

"aw, does someone wanna come?" She teased, slowing her movements. "Hmm, it seems this pretty pussy is ready for my cock, don't you think?" She said, loving the way your eyes widened, pupils dilated at the sound of that.

She pulled her pants down, releasing her long, lengthy strap that she kept hidden to surprise you. It was one of her favourites she brought online. A cute, pink dildo that reminded her of you.

It's just too precious.

"spit on it" she muttered, watching as you did as she ordered, once she was pleased enough, Wanda's hands came up to your head, you eagerly wrapped your mouth over her fake dick, she groaned.

"good girl, sucking my cock so well" she moaned. "God, you're my personal fucktoy, aren't you?, my flesh light, you like that, don't you?."

She heard you whimper, causing her to smirk.

"do a good enough job and maybe I'll reward you with something else."

#wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda x y/n #emo!wanda #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff smut #stuff i wrote

[rainylana]

“Don’t cry.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: a spa session with your new boyfriend turns out to be both of your breaking points.

requested by anonymous! i hope you like it and that I did it justice! i kind of took it and ran. i made it much more deep than i initially planned, so i hope you like it!

warnings: talk of sexual abuse and rape, with both eddie and reader, angst and tears, language, mentions of drug dealing and absent parents. reader is struggling to connect with eddie and he doesn’t know why, kinda leaves in a cliffhanger??

Sometimes Eddie wondered if you liked him, because half the time it didn’t seem like you did. You’d become stand-offish, quiet, shrink in on yourself. His “Are you okay?” was always met with an “I’m fine.” and nothing more. It always seemed like you were protecting yourself. Not just from him, but from everyone. You loved his friends, but sometimes they scared you. You never knew who to trust. Would one of them hurt you, given the chance?

One thing was for sure though, you loved Wayne. He was like the father you never had growing up. From the way he talked, looked, his personality, it reminded you of a father. Eddie was extremely lucky to grow up with him while he did.

Eddie wasn’t stupid, however, he knew some of your behavior had to do with your upbringing. You’d shared some of it with him before, time and time again, here and there. You’d grown up pretty similarly to him. Dead beat parents that abused you, surrounded by their friends who eyed you like a piece of meat for them to chew on. When you grow up like that, you’re bound to be a little messed up. Eddie understood that. He was the same way.

But with you, it was different. He didn’t want you to feel that way around him. The relationship hadn’t been going on for that long and was still fairly fresh, but he wanted you to trust him. And even dating might have been a stretch, you were just very good friends who weren’t very good friends with anyone else.

You liked Eddie, maybe even loved him, but there was no lying when it came to the fact you were struggling to connect with him. Could you really trust him? Was he just like the men from your childhood? Would he fuck you and ultimately leave once he got his full satisfaction? You’d cried yourself to sleep many of times during the night at the thought.

Sometimes you didn’t feel safe. Not with him, not with his friends. You only ever felt truly safe with Wayne. You didn’t know why. You hated the way you felt. Eddie was a good man. He was good to you. He had yet to do anything that proved otherwise. But the dark corners of your mind lingered closer and closer to the edge, reminding you of what once was your reality on the daily. You hoped this time it was different.

“I like this color on you.” Eddie’s tongue was stuck out in concentration, one hand holding your foot, the other holding the brush of the pink nail polish bottle. “It’s cute.”

“Pink?” You smirked. “You like pink?”

“On you.” His lashes fluttered up to you briefly.

The gesture was cute, but anytime he did something sweet like this you couldn’t help but think if he was luring you into a trap. Your stomach was littered with jitters and nerves. Day by day your anxiety was staring to become more out of control. You thought about ending things with him. It wasn’t fair to him to not give the relationship your all, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’d miss him dearly.

“Well, thanks.” You smiled softly. “I don’t like painting them by myself. The angle is too hard.”

He muttered a Mhm with his tongue out, blowing on your little toe so the pain would dry. “I used to paint my nails black when I was a teenager.” He said.

“Really?” You said amusedly. “Why’d you stop?”

“Got out of the habit, I guess.” He dipped the brush back in the bottle. “Plus, not that I cared, but kids at school were givin’ me shit about it.”

You knew Eddie had the same childhood you did, in some sense anyways. Eddie wouldn’t talk about it much, especially never about his mother. But his dad was something you knew struck a nerve. You should share your traumas together, that’s what you always told yourself. You knew you both could relate to one another, but the relationship was still too fresh. Maybe neither was ready for that.

“Want me to do your fingers?” Eddie asked, blowing on your last toe as he finished up his fine work. “I gotta say, babe, I did pretty good.”

You flexed your freshly painted toes and grinned at his work. “You did! Thank you.”

He put the bottle on the table and plopped down beside you on the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “So what now? What’s next on the spa list?” He smirked and you did the same, laughing breathily.

“I won’t make you succumb to all my girly stuff.” You laughed. “Anything I can do for you? Your hair looks like it needs brushed a little.”

“What?” He gave you an incredulous look. “I keep my hair very much maintained, thank you.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t, Eddie.” You rolled your eyes. “All I said was it needed brushed a little.”

You hopped up and got your plastic hairbrush from the bathroom, pointing at him with it when you returned. “Your turn to be pampered. Sit on the floor.”

He shook his head amusedly and sat down where you had, your legs falling at the sides of his shoulders as you gently began combing out his curls. He didn’t mean to, but he sighed in content.

“Feel good?” You gave a shit eating grin.

“You’re a-lot gentler than Wayne used to be.” He relaxed under your touch. “He always pulled at my hair and got it more ratted up than it already was. This feels good.”

You smiled at the mention of Wayne. “Well, I’ve got a woman’s touch, honey.”

“Yes, you do.”

It was quiet and peaceful for a while as you brushed his hair, the both of you content in the silence. When he touched your ankle, caressing it, your heart began to pound. You hadn’t had sex with him yet. You were too scared to. You knew it was time, it had been almost two months and you knew Eddie had long since been ready to sleep with you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You did. You fantasized about him just as much as he did you, but you were terrified of him leaving once you finally crossed that line. Out of instinct, you brought your legs up to you, sitting criss-cross like he was.

You heard him sigh and your stomach ached with guilt. You should give him what he wants.

“I’m sorry.” You say guiltily.

“You never let me touch you.” Eddie said flatly, staring at the ground as you continued to brush his hair. “And you won’t tell me why.”

Your eyes teared up and you stopped brushing, bringing it down to your lap. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s all you say.” He shook his head. “You don’t need to be sorry. You just need to tell me why I scare you so bad.”

“You don’t.” You denied, trying your hardest to convince him. When he said things like this, you felt foolish for thinking the way that you did. “It’s just- it’s- it’s just me.”

Eddie turned around, looking up at you to find you with tears in your face. “If it wasn’t true you wouldn’t be crying. Don’t I deserve the truth, Y/n? Have I don’t anything at all to make you scared of me?”

“No.” You sniffled, getting off the couch to go into the kitchen of his trailer. “You haven’t.”

Eddie watched you, becoming more and more anxious by the second. He sat there, waiting for his answer, anything but no. “Do you want to break up?”

“No!” You cried, shaking your head wildly. “No, that’s not what I want.”

“You don’t even like me, Y/n.” He scoffed to himself, closing in, becoming cold and shutting down. Something he hadn’t done in a long time. “You won’t open up to me. I can barely touch you. You look like you’re disgusted to be around me.”

“That’s not true!” You snapped, taking a step toward him. “Stop saying shit like that!”

“Then you say something for a change!” He argued back, not moving from his spot on the floor.

“But it’s so stupid!” You shook your head. “It’s ridiculous!”

He gave you a look. He was waiting and he wouldn’t back out this time. Either that, or he was going to break up with you. The thought made you want to vomit. Maybe you did care more deeply for him than you were letting on.

“We don’t talk about what happened when we were kids,” You sighed through tears, voice breaking. “We’re..both the same, but we don’t talk about it.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed as you began, wondering after all, if he wanted to hear where you were going with this.

“Mom wasn’t around, so that left dad and his friends.” You stared at him, being as open and honest as you could now. There was no beating around the bush with this. “I…Jesus,” You shook your head, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t know that it wasn’t normal at the time, but they’d…they’d use me.” You took a deep breath after the last word. No stopping now.

“They would play poker, touch me, rape me.” You weren’t crying anymore, talking mostly to yourself now at this point. “And I know you would never do that to me, Eddie, but sometimes I’m so afraid of it happening again and I just shut down.” You closed your eyes. “You touch me and I’m so afraid you’ll abandon me once we sleep together. That’s all anyone has ever done in my life.”

“Fuck me, then leave.” You sniffled. “That’s all they ever do.”

Eddie’s eyes were drooping, slightly narrowed and brows furrowed. He shook his head softly, you almost missed it, and you knew you’d made him at a loss for words.

He looked up to you briefly, licking his lips before he spoke. “There was this one guy my dad would deal for,” He began. “He was a big dude, almost seven foot. I was only thirteen. But dad would bring him into the house and he…would look at me. Just watch me wherever I went.” He stared at his hands, not daring to look at you.

“I think he payed dad.” His voice broke, but he refused to let any tears fall. “Because I screamed and screamed and he wouldn’t come.”

You let out an audibly gasp and covered your mask, your heart falling to the floor with a splat.

“Oh, god, Eddie,” You crawled to the floor and knelt beside him.

“It’s okay.” He stopped your apologies. “I didn’t tell you for you to be sorry for me. I told you because you need to know you’re not alone, and not everyone is out to get you. You’re safe with me. I want you to believe that.”

You let out a wet sob, tears rolling down your red face. “How do I stop being scared? I want to be with you.”

He smiled softly, a finger swiping at a tear. “We have all the time in the world for that, angel.”

You grabbed his arm and laid your head against his shoulder, sobbing like a broken child.

“Oh, baby,” He kissed your forehead. “Don’t cry.”

It would be a long road to recovery, but you could both do it together. Slowly, every day you would both open up to each other about what you went through, and day by day, it would get easier.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #requests #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb

[hon3y-y]

NUH UH roomate!sukuna had his thot era, it's time for reader to have hers!!! And he's gonna sit there and WATCH it- payback baby. I wanted reader to fuck satoru, suguru, kento, choso, even fucking hiromi- she gonna get it ALLLLLLL before sukuna can even get a taste 😤

cw: noncon filming!

pt 1: here<3

omfg he would be soooo pissed💀

picture this;

The morning after everything happened, Sukuna was more than ready to make it official with you. He had already planned how he was going to seduce you. He got up early to hit the gym before you even woke up, so when you were finally awake, you would see him all jacked up and sweaty. It literally had his stomach fluttering with excitement at just how fast he knew you'd fold. 

Well, easier said than done, because when he does get home and hear someone in the kitchen, it's not you cutely rubbing your sleepy eyes in nothing but a baggy shirt. Instead, it’s that white-haired freak from last night. 

He literally rolls his eyes, ignoring the greeting the guy sends and telling him to “get the fuck out” to which Satoru just laughs, takes his toast (which he made in Sukuna’s toaster, by the way), and exits the kitchen while taking a bite. Sukuna goes to your room door but is stopped by the obnoxious blond.

“She left, said she was going to see a friend.”

“Why are you still here?”

Satoru shrugs before grabbing the shirt he had thrown onto the couch the previous night and waving goodbye, crumbs from the toast he was eating still on his lips, before the door slams shut. 

Ryomen was floored. Were you two officials? Is that why you finally brought someone home? He couldn’t deny the pinch in his chest, but he shoved it aside. I mean, he would happily break up a home, so even if this was your stupid boyfriend, it wouldn’t dampen anything. He doesn’t mind a little competition. 

At least, that’s what he thinks it’s going to be. Since that night, both of your schedules had been too complicated, and you two had only seen each other in passing. But tonight, he knew you would both be off and it’s the weekend, so he knows you at least don’t have anything till midday. 

You return late, and you are absolutely not alone.

You’re with another guy, some blond man who looks a little too pristine to be found at the club (who he later finds out is kento from your whimpered of “kento! Oh fuck—yes! right there!”).

You don’t even notice that Sukuna's door is wide open and instead stumble straight into your own. and Ryomen is jaw-dropped, shocked. 

He begins to feel like a cuck; all he does is listen to you fuck this random selection of men you’ve created within these recent couple of weeks and fuck his fist stupid. It’s so embarrassing to feel like a hormonal teenager who can’t get a grip. but he can’t stop; he just remembers what you look like under Satoru. 

Night after night, all weekend long, you’re bringing home someone new. although after a while it’s just the same three guys. the annoying blond, Kento (or “the businessman”), and some random boy named "choso,” who he walked in on you giving a blow job to.

You stopped immediately, so embarrassed and shy, as if you didn’t just have this guy with his eyes rolled back, nearly crying every time you gagged on him. Choso, on the other hand, looked too fucked out to care about the third person in the room. 

Sukuna was so hard and horny all the time, and his interest in finding someone to handle it was useless. He wanted you, not some random girl. He even bought a fleshlight for the first time, needing something other than his hand to hump. 

One night, he returned late and heard the sweet noises of your mewls (again, it was starting to feel like a routine). He tried to quietly pass your door, but stopped short. three voices?

He almost couldn't believe it, but after cracking your door open, there you were. You were jerking Satoru off, his white hair sticking to his damp forehead, while this guy with long black hair was pounding into you. One of his hands wrapped around your throat while the other played with your clit, your body jerking at the intensity of stimulation. Satoru played with your swollen nipples, pinching and leaning down to suck them. 

Sukuna can’t help but pull his phone out and record it, going back to his room and rutting into his fleshlight until his cock is raw. the video on a constant loop because he was so fucking addicted. You looked so good. so pretty, and pliant under them. He wanted, no, needed to have you.

You lay in bed, absolutely exhausted after Suguru and Satoru left. You still can’t deny the effect Sukuna has on you, but since you’ve started having hookups, you haven’t even tried to listen to what Ryo does (not that you could’ve or noticed, clearly. he’s been on a dry spell). While you sleep peacefully, snuggled into your warm comforter, Sukuna lies awake, extremely frustrated.

he’s sooo down bad://

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #chubby reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu satoru #jjk #smut #jjk sukuna smut #geto smut #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna smut #nanami smut #suguru geto smut #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #poc reader #fem reader #sukuna x y/n #jjk sukuna x reader #jjk x you #jjk au #ryomen sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk asks #anon ask

[desi2go]

Importance

pairings: dad!Chan x mom!reader

warnings: angst, fluff

summary: Having a child with an idol isn't easy...

author's note: I'm sorry that I couldn't post anything the last two weeks. But here I am with a new one!

Marriage wasn't easy. Especially when your beloved husband was an idol. The Bang Chan, leader of Stray Kids.

Between tours and busy schedules, there was little time for your relationship. But even though it was hard and you missed him like hell when he was gone for a long time, you still didn't regret to come to your best friend Changbin's party years ago. There, you had met him.

Well, he didn't see you and accidentally poured his drink over you. When your eyes met, he was fascinated by your breathtaking beauty. Maybe it was destiny back then. It felt surreal, like he was your soulmate. The missing piece in in your heart and life.

Apologetic, he bought you a drink and after a wonderful night together, asked for your number.

Soon, he took you out on a date and there followed a second and a third, becoming a huge part in your life.

Without noticing, time passed and Chan proposed to you.

You immediately said yes and became Mrs. Bang.

The second you were married, your family asked when you both would begin to try for a baby but Chan and you wanted to wait some time before thinking about an addition to your family.

You still were young and Stray kids took much time and you understood that. Your job was also one of your top priorities and wanted to earn more money.

But it seemed that the universe had other plans with you two. Seven months after the wedding you started feeling sick. At first you brushed it off and thought that it is just a stomach bug or the stress due to work.

As the lovely but overly concerned husband that he is, Chan took you too a doctor to get a check up. Even though you found it a little bit overdramatic, he still insisted and the reason why you felt nauseous was soon found. You were indeed pregnant and already two months into pregnancy.

Sure, it wasn't planned but you and Chan felt excited to have a small addition to the family. And sooner or later it would have happend anyways.

Chan promised that when the pregnancy was farther along, he would take some time off and help you. You agreed to that and decided to work some more months too before you need to go into maternity leave.

The months passed fast and soon, you welcomed your newest family member. A girl. A sweet girl with already some black locks on her head and the same brown eyes that you fell in love with.

Chan was over the moon. Even though during labour, he was terrified. Would he be a good dad? But all these thoughts washed away when he saw the beautiful angel you both had created with your undying love.

He was the first one to hold her as her crying filled the room. Exhausted, you observed the picture in front of you. Your husband with his precious daughter that already looked like a smaller copy of him.

He was told to undress his shirt and to lay the little bundle of joy against his bare chest to help her breath and keeping her warmth while the doctor checked on you because you had lost a lot of blood during birth.

The first weeks were exhausting. Your little girl, Nari, held both of you awake most of the night. Yourself needed to heal and time to recover from the labor, so you relied mostly on your husband who took such good care for his girl. Fortunately, he got some weeks off to settle into parenthood before going back to the boys even though they nearly saw each other every day.

Since you got home from the hospital, four days after birth, they visited you to meet their 'little sister' as they called Nari. Oh lord, they were so smitten. The only one that seems not so sure about that little human was Seungmin but when he thought that nobody would watch, you catched him drawing circles over Nari's hands, smiling when she wrapped her hand around one of his fingers.

When Chan went back, the house was suddenly so empty. After weeks of being together 24/7, the sudden quiet was unfamiliar. In the mornings, Chan was already out, you loved to lay on the couch, your daughter on your chest, snuggling close to you while sleeping.

When Chan came back home in the evening, he greeted you with a kiss and immediately ran off to his daughter to tell her about his day even though she was already sleeping. You loved to observe him while cooking. You loved this little family. It was something that you ever wanted.

You really loved Nari. But after the pregnancy and early motherhood, you needed some space for yourself. You would love to spend an evening with your girls. Just making yourself look pretty and have fun without watching over a child.

Especially since you almost never leave the house except for some stroller walks and buying errands.

You asked your husband if he comes home some hours earlier so that you could enjoy your night. Immediately, he agreed and you were so grateful that he understood you.

On that day, you took your time with getting ready while your daughter slept. You hoped that Chan would be home soon so that you would be on time since you hated being late.

Minutes passed as you sat on the couch waiting for him. Minutes turned into half an hour and you wrote your girls that you would run a little late today. They were understanding.

More minutes passed and you waited already for a whole hour. You tried to call him since he was always so focused on his work so that he sometimes forgets the time.

He didn't pick up and you were already half an hour late. Your girls were already seated in your restaurant, waiting for you to show up so that they could start ordering food.

Sighing, you texted then that you couldn't make it and they shouldn't wait up on you. Frustrated, you cleared your face from the make up that was hours worth of work.

You took off the new dress that you had bought. You were so excited to wear it because it made you feel so pretty again after the pregnancy made you look bloated and your belly was still not the same then before.

You didn't know if you felt rage, sadness or disappointment that you needed to stay home because of your husband.

It wouldn't be so bad if it was the first time after he got back to work. He used to come back at a normal time to have some time with you and the baby. But as the weeks passed, he stayed later and got up earlier so that you saw him just for some minutes per day.

It was like you were all on your own here in your home. You knew from the beginning that Stray kids was really important to him but after entering parenthood you had hoped that he wouldn't stay till past midnight in the company.

You heard the key unlocking the front door and your husband finally decided to come home after he had promised you that he would be here three hours ago. He greeted you with a small peck on the forehead as you waited for him in the living room.

He looked so calm while dropping his bag to the ground and sitting down on the couch.

"Why are you standing there honey?" He asked. You crossed your arms. He didn't even remembered that this was supposed to be your night out.

"Why are you so late?" You tried to remain calm since your daughter slept in the neighbouring room.

"I was working on the newest song for stray kids" he explained.

"Oh really? Because you said you would be here hours ago" you didn't want to pick a fight. You hated fighting with him. It made your heart clench but this night was important to you.

"I'm sorry honey. But I needed to get it done"

"Well, I had plans for the night, Chan."

"Really? I'm sorry honey. I forgot and this song was important"

"The song was important? My reservation with the girls was important to me" you said and couldn't hold the calm tone that you wanted.

"I already said I'm sorry, Y/n. I got caught up in work" He grew annoyed.

"Like always. You're always so late that I wonder if you even remember that you have a family at home" You knew you were mean and unfair but all these things were twirling around your head for days.

"Of course I remember! I'm sorry that I make money for us" he exclaimed sarcastically. His voice loud, nearly shouting.

These words hurt you. He knew damn well that you aren't dependent on his money and that you make good money as well. Even though you currently took a maternity leave.

"Fuck you, Chan. You aren't the only one working. I was asking you for just one thing. Just being home a little earlier so that I could have some time for myself." You said loudly, your voice cracking in the middle as some tears stung in your eyes.

"Y/n. I-" he tried but you stopped him.

"Nari is your child too. Currently, I'm the only one she sees whether it's in the morning or in the evening. And I'm tired. Tired of being the only one raising her."

You heard cries from the other room. You must have woken up your sleeping daughter. Sighing, you excited the room and headed to Nari without waiting for an answer.

Chan knew that he went too far and that he was more away than home. And it pained him to not spend so much time with his daughter. Slowly he followed you to your daughter's room.

It was dimly lit and you sat in the rocking chair next to her crib with Nari in your arms, rocking her. He hated seeing her in distress and guilt crept up. He was a terrible father and an even more terrible husband.

You felt Chan's hot gaze on you. You knew that the guilt ate him alive right now. He couldn't fool you. Therefore you knew him too well.

After placing Nari back into her crib, giving her a light kiss on her soft skin that smelled so sweet like a baby. Your baby.

Then, you took Chan's hand and lead you outside to the kitchen, farther away from your daughter.

He just followed you, deep in thoughts.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry. I should have come early. And I know that parenting a child alone is difficult. I didn't want to lash out on you like that. I know that the meeting with your friends was important to you" he said and caressed your hand.

"I'm sorry too. It's obvious that you try to be around Nari as long and often as you can."

"No, you were right. I need to be here more. Especially with you both. I shouldn't let work take over so much" he said and pulled you into his arms.

His arms circled around your waist while yours travelled upwards into his fluffy locks. Exhausted he let his head fall on your shoulder, all the tension leaving his body.

"I love you Chan" you whispered.

"I love you too. You and Nari are the most important things in my life"

#stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #bang chan x reader #bang chan #bang chan fluff #bang chan angst #bang chan imagines #stray kids #stray kids angst

[hannie-dul-set]

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [3].

SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.

PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, talks about stalking, talks about death, data privacy violations, so much emotional whiplash yummy, a very long conversation, google dependent historical information. WORD COUNT. 6.3k.

NOTE. this chapter finally made its way out hell 😭😭😭 per usual, please let me know your thoughts on the chapter! a single comment on ao3 inspired me to finish this, so ur feedback really means a lot! enjoy<3

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 3 — can we go back to being parasocial?

IF SOMEONE HEARS YOUR SUMMARY OF THE EVENTS THAT UNFOLDED WITHIN THE PAST FEW DAYS, they may accuse you of lying. Delusional, even. You’d think the same had you not been the center of it all— yet the proof is in your pockets. Your phone. In the album Choi Yeonjun failed to sign, stuffed inside your bag at the last minute before you left your apartment earlier.

The summary. Right. Yes.

“Can they stop sharing that video of Yeonjun excessively flirting with a fan?! I’m going to kill myself if I see it one more time.”

You were lucky enough to nab a fansign slot. But instead of getting Choi Yeonjun’s signature, you ended up getting a kiss of a hand instead, along with a scrawl of numbers on your album that you’re far too terrified to try to dial.

“Hey, send me our photo with Soobin the other day,” nudges Huening from beside you. “I’m gonna print it out and put it in a locket and use it as a family heirloom.”

You bumped into one of your favorite actors, Choi Soobin, in the middle of a late night convenience store run with your friends to fuel your group all nighter, stained his shirt with your ice cream, and got a photo with him in the process.

“By the way, have you called the business card yet? What are you gonna do with your broken phone screen?”

And Choi Beomgyu may or may not have professed his undying love for you, asked for your hand in marriage, and started crying in front of you in less than ten fucking minutes.

“She’s zoned out.”

The problem is, you can’t even bask in the delightful absurdity of it all because one common thread from all those three separate instances has been keeping you up for nights. It’s clawing at your brain, lingering in the back of your mind like an incessant stalker— which, mind you, is not a pleasant feeling when the very causes of such disturbance were once the bringers of joy and all things good in your otherwise meaningless life as a cog in the capitalist machinery that is society.

“Hello? Are you awake?”

Said problem being the fact that you’re pretty sure they all called you by your name at one point.

How the fuck do they know your name?

“I deleted Twitter. I Airdropped it to you. No, I have not called it yet. Now please let me think in peace.”

Crazy. This is all too crazy. In the first place, what are the odds that you bump into three celebrities within one week’s time? Is this some sort of prank, or something? Are those three filming a hidden camera show together? No, no. That couldn’t be because there’s no fucking way a company is sane enough to stage a risky hidden camera prank during a fansign knowing full well how obsessive and insane fans can get. You’re lucky your face wasn’t caught in any of the videos circulating online— video of you and Choi Yeonjun, mostly him, acting out a fucking sageuk. You’re lucky you haven’t been doxxed yet.

“Finish your sandwich,” Taehyun clicks his tongue, nudging your food closer to you, and you sigh heavily. Maybe you’re just wrong, you think, taking a bite from the bread. Maybe this is just a misunderstanding. Maybe you’re just overthinking.

You eat your lunch and steal some wet wipes from Gaeul in between. Right. It’s not like you’re ever gonna bump into them again. You live in, as cliche as it sounds, two different worlds after all. You’re just gonna watch their dramas, listen to their music, enjoy their performances, and that’s it that’s it that’s it.

“Prof Jang sent a message. Class is canceled.”

But still—

“Woohoo! Let’s go to the new dessert shop that opened downtown.”

Choi Beomgyu’s voice saying I love you, Choi Soobin’s cologne wafting in the air you were breathing in, and Choi Yeonjun’s lips pressed against your skin.

How can a sane person just forget about all of that?!

“Why do you look like you’re fantasizing about perverted shit?” Woohyun slaps you in the face with a reality check. This is fucking stupid.

“I’m not fantasizing,” you grunt, because they were events that actually fucking happened— they weren’t birthed from your brain’s insanity. “Anyway, dessert? Where is it?” You ignore your burning face, hoping that your friends decide to ignore it too, but Gaeul has her eyes narrowed at you. Crap. She didn’t recognize that it’s you in the videos right? Holy fucking hell, you’d rather die.

“Aren’t you gonna answer that?”

Oh. Well. That’s— that’s something. A good something because she hasn’t suspected you yet, moitioning instead to your cracked phone that has been buzzing under your notice because you’ve been thinking way too fucking much.

You check the caller ID, but it’s an unknown number, and it doesn’t match the business card you got from your run in with the alleged Choi Beomgyu. “Hello?” you answer, and a voice you don’t recognize says your name and asks if it’s you. “Yes, this is her. Who’s this?”

Another item added to the weird as fuck things that happened to your this week. You excuse yourself from your friends, and with knitted brows, you listen to the stranger at the other end of the line. “You met Choi Soobin the other day at a 7-Eleven in Gangnam, right?” The fuck? Did someone see you that day? Is this a stalker? “This is his manager. Lee Byeongho. I would like to speak with you regarding a certain matter.”

Now, hold the fucking phone.

“Is everything alright?”

You respond to Huening’s concern with a stiff smile before turning away from them. “Did I do something wrong?” you fuss into the call. “I didn’t post any of the photos from that day. I never talked about it online either, and I’m pretty sure my friends haven’t either. Wait. Wait a minute. How did you get my number?”

“Yes, it was difficult to obtain knowing only your first name and university.” That doesn’t answer your question. That just gave you more questions. “But, no. You aren’t in trouble. Actually...I called because you’re the only one who can help us— help Soobin— get out of trouble.”

Your face scrunches up.

“I’m at your campus right now. Parking lot. Do you mind meeting me for a moment?”

Just what did you get yourself into?

“You haven’t finished your food. Where are you going?”

“Somewhere,” you reply, quickly snatching your half-eaten sandwich from the table as your friends follow your swift movements with matching looks of confusion. “I’ll be right back. It’s nothing, don’t worry.” However, you are quite worried. You’re pretty sure Lee Manager, or whatever, is committing some data privacy crimes against you, but the one thing you want at the moment is answers. Your brain is about to explode from all the fucking questions and confusion. There’s a sliver of hope that meeting up with this sketchy guy can answer a few of them. You’d take that chance to air out your head.

There’s a black van in the parking lot. It’s the first thing you noticed because one of its doors are open, and there’s a familiar looking guy waiting just in front of the exposed seats. 

He notices you approaching. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says. What’s with men you’re meeting for the first time treating you with familiarity? You’re going to rip your hair out and throw yourself into moving traffic.

“Sure, but can you get to the point?” you stiffly say. “I’m a little busy. I still have classes in a bit.”

“Of course, I’m sorry. This whole situation must’ve come off as a shock to you.” Great, now you’re feeling bad. Soobin’s manager (allegedly) looks like he’s been through a whole lot as well. “Anyway. You are a fan of Choi Soobin, correct?”

“Well,” you blink. “Yes.”

“How about the dramas Kang Jaehee has written and directed?” he follows up. “Are you a fan of those as well?”

Your brows furrow. “I guess?” Peach Tree. That Summer. Mogi. Those are the titles that come right at the top of your head. “What does that have to do anything with me?” Manager Lee spares you a look of pity. You feel like this meet-up is just set out to making you even more fucking confused.

“I sincerely apologize. I didn’t want to drag you into this either, but I’m afraid you’re the only option I have,” says Manager Lee despondently. “Since...since you are a fan of Soobin, and I assume that means you also care about his career, so—”

He pauses. Like he’s practicing the next set of words he’s about to say inside his head.

“—do you mind meeting up with him to convince him to take the lead role for Kang Jaehee’s upcoming drama?”

But nothing could’ve prepared you for that.

What.

What the fuck?

“Mr Manager. Sir,” you start, appalled beyond comprehension. “I’d appreciate it if you start making a bit more sense.” 

“Trust me, I can’t believe I’m doing this either.”

You’re speechless. Your mouth is hanging open with no words coming out because, again, what the fuck? Manager Lee looks just as defeated as you, as if he weren’t the one who had just presented that ridiculous proposal. You are, quite frankly, at a discernible loss. 

Manager Lee lets out a sigh and digs a hand into his pocket. “I’m afraid this is all the time I have today. But please contact me once you’ve made a decision.” Another business card acquired. This is just dandy. “I am really hoping for your cooperation, miss. I’m sure you’re aware of Soobin’s inactivity lately, and my intention of approaching you today is simply in order to help my star’s career. Please consider the favor positively, and we will compensate you as much as my authority can allow.”

With that, you’re left with another laminated piece of paper in your hands. Gosh. This is a headache. When you get back to your friends, they notice the distress you’re in, further justifying a visit to the new dessert store, and seeing how your soul has completely left your body, you’re dragged along with them with ease.

“Hey, pick one. My treat,” says Woohyun. You let out a grunt and point at a random pastry on display. Next thing you know, you’re seated in between Huening and Gaeul at the store you don’t even know the name of. 

Huening is force feeding you an eclair. “Eat.” Your scowl disappears when you allow the eclair entry into your mouth. “Seriously, what’s going on with you? Who did you meet earlier?” 

Seeing as you show absolutely no intentions of telling them, they refuse to question you about it further. Good on them, because there’s no way in hell you’re spilling your predicament. Not until you find out exactly what kind of situation you’re in, at the very least. The two business cards feel like they’re weighing your pockets down, a constant reminder of their existence along with the scrawl Yeonjun left behind.  

“I know exactly how to make you feel better.”

The declaration comes from Gaeul, who slides her phone over to you, and when you look down to see what exactly her miracle medicine is to make you feel less manic, you hack out a cough upon seeing Choi Yeonjun’s face on her phone screen. “The hell is wrong with you?” asks Taehyun from across, giving you some water to push down the eclair lodged in your throat. “I know you like him, but even that is an overreaction.”

Jesus, you’re close to losing it. When you’ve avoided choking to death, Gaeul puts an airpod into your ear, and you hear Yeonjun reading out some comments. “Choi Yeonjun, you look really happy lately, did something good happen? someone asked,” he says while having snacks of his own. “First of all, why are you calling me Choi Yeonjun? It’s like you’re putting a wall between us. I don’t like it.”

Gaeul makes a noise of some sort and had you not been subjected to this week’s insanities, you might have reacted the same way too. Instead, you simply listen to his live in caution, feigning disinterest as you watch him nibble on some pretzels and churros through the screen, continuing to answer the slew of questions in the comments.

“Anyway, you’re right! Something good did happen.” Yeonjun hums while picking out a pretzel from the paper bag, rustling noise and a lively tune filling the audio for a moment— a short moment, right before he continues speaking. “That’s because I finally met the love of my life.”

Taehyun has to give you his water again.

“Oh? Oho, what’s with the exclamation points?” he laughs. “Did I meet them the other day? Hmm...that’s a secret. You’re curious? You think it might be you? Well, let’s see. Should I describe her?”

“God, he’s so fucking messy,” says Gaeul from beside you. “This is why I like him. How many calls is he getting for his manager and company this time?”

“What’s going on? Why is she so startled?”

“Yeonjun’s talking about his apparent soulmate, I don’t know. Wanna listen?”

“Didn’t he get in trouble for doing the same thing last time too?”

Now, you’re not one to give a shit about his love life, and you like to stay out of that side of celebrity gossip as much as you can, but Choi Yeonjun himself is droning on about the love of his life right now. You can’t not hear about it even if you want to. However, as much as you want to let things come into one ear and out through the other, you can’t. Because— wait. Wait. His description is eerily familiar. His description is making you double take and second guess what you’re fucking hearing.

“Sounds a lot like you,” Taehyun remarks without much thought, right after Choi Yeonjun says that the girl he likes has a bit of an attitude, but he likes that about her.

Huening lets out a snort. “Yeah, that’s definitely you. Why don’t you go in a wedding dress the next time you attend a fansign? Who knows, you might have a shot.”

You snap them a dirty look. Fuck. This is making your head spin. For the second time, Choi Yeonjun’s tendency of putting himself into headlines and the trending searches for doing something insane is giving you nothing but stress.

“I did give her my number, but she hasn’t messaged me yet, so I’m quite hurt.”

Number. Hold on a fucking second.

“The comments are going crazy.”

You grab your bag from underneath you, dropping it down to your lap.

“Hey, if you’re watching this, pl—eeeeease contact me. Kim Noona thinks I have a phone addiction now because I’ve been dying waiting for your call.”

You quickly get up from your seat.

“Yo, where are you going this time?”

“I need a minute,” you announce, eyes scanning the store for a quiet place alone while hugging your bag to your chest. There’s nowhere. Looks like you have to get out. 

“Damn, we were just joking. As if you have a chance with a celebrity like him.”

Huening’s joke is ignored and you quickly leave outside the doors, making a sharp turn around the corner, slipping through the passersby downtown until you find an empty alley. Your heart is racing. Your heart is racing like crazy and you may be reaching right now. You may be acting crazy, but what Choi Beomgyu said during the interview with Yeong-Il the other day is echoing in your mind, and— in conjunction with everything else that had happened— you’re starting to think that maybe he wasn’t joking.

Your cracked phone screen greets you when you take it out of your pocket. On your other hand is the first business card you got this week.

“Who’s this?”

“Hello. Good day.” You tell them your name, the events that led up to you receiving this number, with the hope that maybe you’re finally on to something. “I’d like to talk about the compensation for my broken phone.”

Whatever that something is, you’re gonna get to the bottom of it.

*

It’s already beyond closing time at Kwiyeomdongmoim Cafe (a mouthful, you know), yet your pink apron is still neatly tied around your waist as you pace back and forth, to and fro, in circles inside the breakroom. The time is half-past nine in the evening. You should’ve clocked out thirty minutes ago, but you’re still waiting. 

The knock on the door signified the end of your wait. You turn to see your boss’s head popping in through the half-open crack. 

“Three guys are waiting for you,” informs Seokmin. “They all seem handsome. Are they your suitors?”

When you ditched your friends at the still unnamed dessert store the other day, you did it to make a few calls. Three, to be exact. Today is the culmination of those calls, which is why you’ve been erratically nervous the entire freaking day. Choi Soobin, Choi Beomyu, and Choi Yeonjun’s managers all answered respectively when you called all the sketchy numbers you got and made some negotiations (apparently, the mess on your album is Yeonjun’s number, but he got his phone confiscated after that livestream). 

“As if,” you say, walking up to the door leading back into the cafe. Suitors, more like stalkers. Fans stalking their idols is common, but the other way around is a pretty fresh idea. “Anyway, thanks, Kyeom. Thank you for letting me use the store for a while.” Because this is the only private place you can think of outside of your own home— and there’s no way in hell you’re letting them in there when you don’t even know how they managed to get hold of your personal information.

“We’re closed anyway.” Seokmin smiles and makes way for you to pass by. “Go ahead and do your thing. Do you want me to stay inside or keep watch?” 

“You can stay inside, it’s alright.” 

He nods. “Call me when you’re done. Scream if you need backup. I can handle all of them.”

You laugh and thank him once more, a pat on his arm before you decide to peek out the door first as a precautionary measure. From your spot, you can see three thoroughly covered men in windbreakers, caps, and masks sitting on three separate tables in the store. The blinds have already been rolled down, so you can’t see anything outside, but there doesn’t appear to be any cameras around, so you take it as a safe sign to finally leave your hiding spot.

The moment you do, the break room door creaks, and all three pairs of eyes immediately fall on you. 

They stand up. They call out your name in unison.

Holy shit.

And when they do, they all look at each other with a sudden flash of hostility in the air.

Um. Well. How are you supposed to do this? “H—hello,” you manage to squeak out, prompting their attention once more. Soobin takes off his cap and removes his mask, the other two following suit, and oh my god. Oh my god. You suck in a deep breath. Today, you are not a fan. You are an interrogator. This is not a fansign. This is an interrogation. 

“I— uh, I asked your managers if I can meet you all to—today for a specific reason.” Wow. Good job. Your hands are shaking and you can’t look up from the floor or else you’d start losing your mind. “But—but, before that— would...would you like some drinks…?”

Interrogation paused. You need to get your shit together first.

“Please enjoy.”

With the help of your boss (because your hands wouldn’t stop shaking and you dropped the first one you made), you managed to whip up four iced teas and settle all three of them into one table at the very back of the store. You send a stiff smile at Seokmin after he placed all the drinks on the table.

God, you owe him so much— especially when he’s being unreasonably glared at by the three men sitting with you right now. Choi Beomgyu to your left, Choi Soobin to your right, Choi Yeonjun directly across from you and holy fuck, you have yet to look at them properly yet for your own safety. They haven’t been talking to each other either, simply sitting and waiting for you to speak. You’re pretty sure they know each other though, at least by name, being in the same industry and all. 

To say that the tension in the air is suffocation would be an understatement. How...how do you start this? The fuck should you say first?

“You know, I was really happy when Kim Noona told me you called.”

Apparently you don’t have to start it. Choi Yeonjun does it for you.

“But why are these two crashing our date?”

And that’s when things also start to get messy.

“Date?” Choi Soobin interjects. He sounds offended. Why does he sound offended. “What are you talking about?”

Choi Yeonjun doesn’t get a chance to make his case. Because Choi Beomgyu from your left suddenly snatches one of your hands from the table, prompting you to look at one of them for the first time tonight, and your eyes fly wide open. “I’d...like to apologize for the other day. I was just overtaken by my emotions. I hope you weren’t too freaked out.”

You are quite freaked out because holy shit, this is too much maybe. Not maybe. Yes. This is too much. Too. Much.“Hey, why are you holding her hand?!” you hear Choi Soobin exclaim from your other side. Choi Beomgyu’s soft expression suddenly disappears into a glare and a sneer the moment he shifts his gaze.

“You’re holding her hand too!”

“Why can’t I?!”

“Hey, this isn’t fair! One of you switch with me—”

Dizzy. You’re feeling dizzy. Your head is spinning and you’re suffocating from the heat emanating from your very face. Whatever they’re arguing about isn’t even reaching your ears anymore. You’re getting lightheaded and your sweaty hands start slipping out from the two’s weirdly tender hold on your hands because your body is physically breaking down.

“Shut up! Oh my god, my head—”

Your vision actually starts spinning for a second so you quickly bring the bottom of your palms to your temples, elbows on the table to balance yourself, only to be wobbled and shaken because the three suddenly jolted off their seats in panic.

“Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine, just please—for the love of god— sit down and shut up.”

They sit down and shut up. You massage your temples in silence. You remove your hands from your face and, after sucking in a deep breath and releasing it thereafter, feel your heartbeat settling into a normal rate. As normal as it can get in this situation.

“Whew. Okay. I think I’m ready. Let’s get down to business.” Finally, you’re the one steering the conversation. You give each of them a once over as quickly as possible because now you know that prolonged eye contact will only hurt you. You settle with looking at the gaps between each of them. That’s fine. You’re fine. “Choi Soobin, Choi Yeonjun, Choi Beomgyu.”

It’s like three bulbs just lit up in succession. Your brain is starting to hurt.

“A—as I was saying, you three are some of South Korea’s biggest celebrities and although I am, in fact, a big fan of all three of you—” Why is Choi Soobin growing pink. Why the fuck is he blushing. “—that— that does not make me fail to recognize the amount of weird shit that’s been happening lately, and I think I need answers.”

They are still sitting down and shutting up. They listen to instructions well, at the very least.

“First, how the fuck did all three of you know my name without any prior introduction. Second—”

The words get clamped in your throat. It’s lodged in there very tightly because you make the mistake of looking one of them in the eye, only to notice that all three of them are looking at you with the same expression. An expression you can only describe as longing.

And your face starts burning.

“Se— second, why…why do you all keep looking at me like I’m an ex you want to get back together with…?”

Maybe you asked the wrong question.

Because for some reason they all look sad now. Really sad. Really fucking sad and it’s making your stomach clench and nerves all numb and funky because making three big celebrities all sad simultaneously is a bragging right at one end of the spectrum, and a national crime at the other.

It’s Choi Soobin who cracks the silence. “I…I had a feeling when I saw you again for the first time at the store.” Again? “Do you not remember me?”

Your face furrows. “No…? Did we ever meet before you became an actor?”

Hurt. The look of sadness has now spiraled into hurt and one might think you just stabbed and twisted a knife into his fucking gut.  “How—how about me?” Your attention turns to Choi Yeonjun who isn’t looking any better. It’s like his entire world view was just proven to be wrong and why does it feel like you’re the one to blame. 

What else can you do but shake your head in denial? Now he looks like he’d just been told he’s adopted!

“You’re…you’re joking,” he tries to laugh it off, but it only comes off as strained and shaky, then, in one fell swoop— desperate. “R—right…?”

“Great!”

Before you start feeling even shittier, Choi Beomgyu finally decides to join in. 

“And here I thought her forgetting about me was the worst case scenario.” His tone is bitter. There’s a snap in his words. “I didn’t think there’d be other bastards in the same situation as me. God fucking damn it.”

There’s a moment of silence. You watch as realization hits the other while you’re still left in the dark. Choi Yeonjun juts his seat closer. Choi Soobin tries to reach a hesitant arm to your direction, but you’re  tugged to the other side by Choi Beomgyu, who’s suddenly a little too, too close.

“Hey.”

Your hands are clamped together. 

“I meant it when I said I love you. I do. I have loved you four hundred years ago and I still love you now, and if whatever god or deity decides to make you meet you for the third time, I’ll still love you then.”

Beomgyu’s holding both of them in between his in a firm grip.

“Second life is about you. Blue Spring is about you. You’re the person I’ve been waiting for from the beginning of this life until the last.”

Now, if this situation wasn’t crazy, your heart would be skipping a beat right now.

But it is crazy. This is fucking insane. And you look around to see that there’s a weird look of sympathy and understanding in the other Choi’s eyes, clearly not recognizing the visceral insanity of this situation, which fills you with a swallowing lump of existential dread. You pry your hands out of Beomgyu’s grasp (you swear you can hear glass breaking), and slowly turn to Choi Yeonjun and say, with a very hesitant, very cautious, “Y...you too…?”

The look on his face says it all. And then you swivel over to Choi Soobin.

“And you?” 

“I’ve lo—”

“No!” you snap. “Don’t finish that sentence. Please. Oh my god.”

You see Seokmin popping his head out from the corner, mouthing an are you okay? and you shakily bring up a weak thumbs up. “Well, isn’t this interesting,” you hear Choi Yeonjun say, which feels like a slap in the face because what exactly is interesting about this. “Here I thought I was special.”

“Get off your high horse,” retorts Choi Soobin, a sneer in his voice. You double take. Choi Soobin is supposed to be sweet and gentle and kind. Who is this man? “Whatever kind of past you had with her doesn’t mean anything. I met her first. I met her at the end of King Danjong’s rule.”

“Ha!” Choi Yeonjun starts. “We got married under King Taejong. I’ve loved her before any of you did.”

Now, what the fuck?

Choi Soobin’s face pales and he chokes over his words. “M—married?”

There’s a smug grin on Choi Yeonjun’s face. He leans back against the chair with his arms crossed in victory. “You heard that correctly. Married. Pack up your bags. Unless you want me to tell you everything we did on our we—”

“Shut up, shut up, I don’t want to hear it!”

Marriage. King Danjong. King Taejong. Second life. The gears are churning inside your head. You don’t like the direction where the gears are pointing.

“What about you?”

Choi Yeonjun raises the question and the attention is now on Choi Beomgyu. He’s been quiet. The other two wait for him to say his piece— a feigned air of disdain and arrogance but there’s an unconcealable undertone of nervousness underneath it all. Your iced teas have been left untouched. Choi Beomgyu simply scoffs and presses his crossed arms against his chest.

“I have no reason to tell you any of that. This is between me and her.”

And at your mention, you receive the undivided attention of three pairs of eyes once more. Your heart rattles. God fucking damn it. Listen, you’re an avid consumer of the entertainment industry. You’ve watched a good amount of dramas and have read a good amount of manhwas to surmise a conclusion with the bits and pieces of stray information being tossed back and forth between the three. And it’s all ridiculous. But you have nothing else to work with unless they come spilling their guts themselves.

“So,” you clear your throat. “Are you three, like…a couple…hundred years old…?”

They all look offended. 

“No!”

Well, maybe you’re wrong about that part. But after a very long, convoluted discussion, the “facts” (if you can even call it that), are finally laid down on your feet.

They say you’ve all met before. Separately, in three separate lifetimes, with this one allegedly being your fourth unless there were lives in between that they can’t remember. One thing for certain is that the three of them remember the life they had while loving you— and they loved you very much apparently because those feelings and memories got carried over even after they got reborn into the present day.

The problem is, you don’t have the same symptoms. You don’t remember anything about your past lives. Hell, you can’t even remember anything in this life before you hit two years old. 

You slump in your seat. The table rattles. They get up from their chairs and come circling around you in concern.

“Are— are you okay, do you need to lie down? You could rest in my van for a while and—”

You swat Choi Yeonjun’s hand away before it could land on your shoulder. You’ve now got your hands on your face in stress, and peeking through you see Choi Soobin on your right, crouching down and looking up at you with furrowed brows and big, sad eyes. On your left is Choi Beomgyu, half-seated on the chair. You let out a very long, very anguished and muffled groan. This is too much. “If— if what you guys are saying is true,” you say. “What does it matter?”

There’s a tense pause in the air. 

“What do you mean…?”

You spring up from your seat and turn around, Choi Yeonjun in front of you. 

“I mean what does it all matter? King Sejeong, Joseon era, or whatever— I don’t care about all of that. We’re in the twenty-first century right now. I’m neither your lover nor your wife. I’m just a fan of your dramas and music and performances and that's it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t really want to see their faces right now. You let a huff of air slip past your lips, turning back around to collect the untouched glasses of drinks on the table.

“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet me and explain. I hope it’s all settled. Thanks for clearing everything up today. You can now all leave.”

It’s Choi Yeonjun who races after you when you make your firm and quick strides to the counter. He cuts off your path. “I—I don’t understand,” he chokes out. You make the mistake of meeting his gaze and see the threat of tears glazing his eyes. “What—what do you mean?”

Admittedly, that hurled a giant pang against your ribcage, knocking the air out of your chest, but you move forward. You brush past him, setting the glasses back on the counter, and— after a moment’s pause— you turn around, a heavy weight on your shoulders. It’s like gravity is trying to suck you deep into the mantle. “What I’m trying to say is we should all just get over what happened all those hundreds of years ago and live our lives in the present. I mean, I don’t know any of you. Don’t you think it’s unhealthy to keep clinging onto the past, especially when you guys are nothing but strangers to me in this life?”

Dead silence. You don’t dare look at any of them in the face. You try and retreat to the break room as quickly as you can, hands fumbling to untie your apron along the way, but you stumble over your steps, screeching to a halt the moment you hear someone say—

“Do you think it’s that easy?”

You could hear your heart in your eardrums. 

It takes all the strength in your body for you to look back, to see the pained expression on Choi Beomgyu’s face standing the farthest away from you out of the three. “Do you think I put my name out there so that it’d be easier for you to find me, wrote all those songs about you in the hopes that I could see you again if you’re someone I can just easily forget?”

Your throat tightens. It’s like you’re swallowing a boulder.

“If you wanted me to forget about you, you shouldn’t have died right in front of me then. You shouldn’t have told me you loved me right before you went cold in my arms if you wanted me to fucking forget.”

Oh.

Oh, god.

Choi Yeonjun and Choi Soobin don’t look any better. It hits you that you might have been more than a little bit unfair.

“I’m sorry.”

You don’t know your history. You don’t know what the fuck happened between you and them throughout those years that made them feel so strongly about you. But it must be harder for those who remember than for those who forgot.

It’s not like they chose to live in the present with half of their souls stuck in the past, either. You’ve been acting awfully unfair.

“I was being insensitive. I’m so sorry,” you exhale. Your knees feel like they’re about to buckle. Your head is spinning in circles. “But to be honest, this is all still very overwhelming, and I’m having a hard time comprehending and making sense of everything. It doesn’t feel real.” You try to take a step closer, but your legs give in. Choi Yeonjun quickly rushes to balance you back on your feet.

“Don’t push yourself,” he says, softly. You can’t look at him. God, these guys really know how to bring your guilt all the way home.

“Thanks, um, anyway—” You breathe in. Shit, you can’t believe you’re considering this. “Again, I really can’t and won’t be able to understand the magnitude of your— well, uh— feelings, since I really don’t remember anything. But how about…I spend some time with each of you individually, and maybe…maybe it can help in jogging back my memories?”

The atmosphere shifts. Ah. This feels like a fucking trap.

“You— you mean it?”

To be honest, you’d much rather just not deal with any of this, just stay at home and continue living your life with these three men as persons you only know behind the screen. But those looks in their eyes— hopeful and melancholic— make you feel your organs are being rearranged every five seconds, and you’d feel bad leaving them with the pain of this conversation especially after they poured out their hearts to you.

You can’t deny the joy and escape they’ve given you for the past couple of years you’ve spent as their fan. Maybe entertaining this unreality is the least you can do.

“I mean, well,” you start, clearing your throat. “Choi Beomgyu, you still need to pay for my phone. Choi Soobin, your manager wanted me to talk to you about something, and Choi Yeonjun—”

You look at the guy who still has one arm pressed against your back, two hands in a firm grip on your shoulders. He’s looking at you and batting his eyes expectantly. You let out a sigh and set yourself loose.

“I need to discuss something with you soon, too.” As in, please stop vaguely mentioning me in your live streams because I fear I might find an angry mob in front of my house. “I think I have all your contact information anyway.”

There aren’t any more reactions coming from them. This seems like the best possible solution for all of you. You sigh again. This has been an emotionally draining evening. You can’t wait to get some fucking rest.

“I’ll be in touch with you or your managers soon. For now, let’s call it a day.”

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

#tomorrow x together x reader #txt x reader #choi yeonjun x reader #choi soobin x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #txt scenarios #tomorrow x together scenarios #txt x you #tomorror x together x you #soobin x reader #yeonjun x reader #beomgyu x reader #txt fanfic #choi soobin x you #choi beomgyu x you #choi yeonjun x you

[icallhimjoey]

Reinvent Love

♥ ♥          Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader 

Summary: You and Joe are treading new waters. You’re no longer flatmates, but still close. More than friends, but nothing defined. Nothing labeled. Determined to not lose what you have, though. But, can you?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, jealousy, accusations, soft fluff, lil smutty, reader has hair long enough to tie up, season 3 of my flatmate!joe

Author’s note: oohhh big changes! we are TALKING! with our MOUTHS! what a time. This is the last part of flatmate!Joe - for real this time. I truly hope you've enjoyed what is still my most plotless (imo) bit of writing, lmk your thoughts <3

Wordcount: 4.4K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

There was something living inside of your chest.

It was only small, but definitely there. Soft. Vulnerable. Silently shrinking. It had gotten hurt and was wearing its bruises on the outside. When it got poked, you could feel the shooting pains as it curled in on itself more. It would find the safest spots to squeeze its eyes shut and you’d mentally tell it, it’s okay. You’re okay.

It wasn’t okay.

Maybe therapy wasn’t an insane suggestion, anymore, at this point. You felt like you were protecting a child to the point where you couldn’t let it see the light of day. Couldn’t let it go outside and play. Couldn’t let it have friends – let it meet Joe. Couldn’t let it experience anything joyful, because if you did, it’d probably experience more hurt too.

But it was hurting anyway.

And now it was only pain it got to feel. Never joy. Just bruises and cuts. Scrapes that slowly formed thick drops of blood that hardened into scabs which pulled at your skin and eventually turned into scars.

You wished you’d known that before you locked it up inside.

There was something living inside of your chest, and it carefully wished it could speak up and be heard.

When you’d walked out of your bedroom and into the living room, a surprised Josh raised his eyebrows at you. He was leaning back into the sofa and had an acoustic guitar in his lap that he was absentmindedly playing whilst he was watching TV on a low volume. The guitar playing stopped when he saw you and didn’t pick back up as he watched you walk over, pillow in hand, facial expression drained.

“Hey, what’s up?” the guitar got moved onto the floor.

You didn’t answer when you put your pillow down on the opposite end of the sofa and took the blanket you’d slept under before. You curled up, ignored Josh who tried to ask if you were okay a couple of times as you stared at the TV. He asked if you wanted to talk about it. Said you probably should talk about it if you didn’t want Josh to think about this all night.

“It’s going to keep me up if I don’t know if you’re okay.”

You ignored it all, didn’t give a shit if Josh was going to get a good night’s sleep, and eventually turned over and faced the back of the sofa. It sent the message it needed to. It took just another moment before Josh turned off the TV, and then the lights as he left you alone.

This was stupid.

But you were stubborn.

You were stubborn and were going to go to sleep on your sofa, even though you were the one that lived here, and maybe Joe should be the one to sleep on the sofa.

Or actually, he could go home. To his own flat. Where all things were his, and the only things that felt like they were yours were the plants you’d brought in and the toothbrush you’d left by his sink.

Yea.

Joe could just leave.

You didn’t care that he was still paying rent.

 But you didn’t actually get up to go and tell him that. Of course not. You just wallowed in thought. In all the would-dos and would-says. Shivered because this new stupid blanket Josh got wasn’t thick enough to keep you warm throughout the night.

You made yourself cry inside of that soup of goopy misery. Felt what lived inside of your chest as it drowned and mentally apologised to it when, after three hours of not being able to actually go to sleep, after three hours of anger that turned into fragile neediness, you decided to get up and make your way back.

Find Joe.

Because, and fuck him for this, Joe always knew how to fucking fix it.

And there was something so silly about walking down the hallway of your flat with tears staining your cheeks to sneak into Joe’s old bedroom. To find Joe inside of the bed there, the lay-out of the room still the same. Joe’s side of the bed still the same.

The click of the door closing made Joe lift his head up in an attempt to see into the dark.

He hadn’t expected you at all, so for a second, he thought that maybe you’d just walked in to get something. Your phone. Or your charger. But then you walked around to your side of the bed and got under the covers. It was too dark to see your face, but you found Joe’s warm body and snuggled up. Pressed your forehead to his jaw and hummed through a sigh and Joe didn’t need to see your face to hug you closer. Didn’t need to see if you’d been crying to wrap arms around, and to tangle legs, and to press a small kiss into your hair.

You wiggled as you settled and sighed as you sunk deeper into the mattress. You could deal with the disappointment within yourself in the morning.

“I’m sorry.” Joe whispered into the dark, and you decided you could also deal with your disappointment in Joe in the morning, so you softly whined and said, “Pause.”

“Pause?”

“Mhm.”

Everything could just be paused. Postponed. Just for a few hours. You just needed to get some sleep.

Joe wasn’t in a position to not accept that. His heart felt full with the nostalgia he unexpectedly found with you sneaking into this room in order to get some sleep. It used to be like this. He was in the same location. In the exact same spot. Just, everything was yours now.

Me too, Joe thought.

Everything was yours now, including Joe. Whether you wanted him or not.

He squeezed you tighter and saw that you got to sleep. Traced finger tips across skin that warmed under the covers, and tickled into your hair by the nape of your neck, and he could feel how you were drifting off and, fuck off, he was yours.

He’d tell you in the morning.

Joe was going to tell you in the morning.

He would.

When Joe woke up, you were gone.

Fucking figures, Joe thought.

The private moment of waking up together that would’ve granted him the security and comfortability to say whatever needed saying was gone now.

Joe rubbed both hands over his face and scolded himself for not waking up as you had gotten out.

But it was fine.

There’d be another moment for it, he’d make sure.

Venturing out of your bedroom, you weren’t in the bathroom. Nor in the living area. He did, however, find Josh in the kitchen.

After awkward but polite good mornings shared, there was some uncomfortable shuffling around. Joe had made breakfast thousands of times in this kitchen, and he was already reaching to open the fridge when he realised that, actually, that was a weird thing to do. He no longer lived there. He couldn’t just go into cupboards and find the food that he knew was there – he knew exactly where the oatmeal went. He knew exactly where to find the cinnamon to sprinkle on top. How the coffee machine worked. Which cupboard to open to find the mugs.

Joe opted to busy himself making a coffee first. The machine was right there on the counter – less weird to reach for it and prepare himself a morning brew.

And Josh was cool about it. Opened a cupboard for him to fetch him a mug. It was a bit of an awkward dance, but a friendly one, tight smiles shared as Josh prepared his own breakfast.

It wasn’t until the loud noise of coffee beans being ground up that Joe decided to just… ask.

Might as well act like last night actually happened.

“Sorry about last night, mate,”

“Oh yea, no worries, I didn’t…” Josh frowned and shook his head as he scraped some butter onto his toast. He didn’t finish his sentence. Didn’t need to. Took a bite before buttering the second piece.

“Have you seen her?” Joe tried sounding as casual as he could, but failed miserably.

It was as honest and vulnerable of a question he was ever going to ask Josh. It revealed he had no idea where the fuck you’d gone, which in and of itself revealed that there was probably a reason you hadn’t told him.

But Josh was relaxed about it.

“Yea. Morning run. You just missed her, I think.”

And it took all within Joe to pretend that didn’t surprise him as much as it did. He just nodded. Pretended like that was a normal thing to hear about. Morning run. Sure. Miss be-useful-first-thing, what the fuck? When had you picked up that habit?

The coffee machine stopped whirring, and Joe took his coffee. Went for a sip immediately and instantly burnt his tongue. Rookie move.

“Is um… is everything okay? I don’t want to pry, but,” Josh asked as Joe moved around the island to sit down.

“Ah, well… you know,”

No, actually, Josh didn’t know.

Which was good.

Joe didn’t really want him to know.

Joe didn’t really want to explain.

Couldn’t really explain.

Where the fuck would he even begin?

“Hmm, yea,” Josh accepted the non-answer easily. “She seemed upset, but wouldn’t really say anything.”

Joe had to suppress a smile.

Of course you hadn’t fucking said anything.

“I asked like fifty times if she was okay, but she… I don’t know, she fully ignored me I guess. Kind of went catatonic on me a little.”

Joe drank his coffee and nodded.

“To be fair though,” Josh made big eyes at himself, “I was being really fucking annoying. I would’ve rolled over and ignored me too, I think.”

Both men let huffs of air escape them in silent laughter.

Then a moment of silence followed where Joe drank his coffee and Josh ate his toast. Joe realised he didn’t like how Josh knew things about you that he didn’t, but the upside was that it was incredibly useful, actually.

Josh talked where you... well, you did not.

“Did she cry?”

He wanted to know.

“No, she just… watched TV for a bit. I don’t know, she seemed tired so I went to bed shortly after to make sure she could get some sleep.”

That meant that, if you’d cried, you had waited for Josh to leave the room. Joe didn’t know if that was a comforting thought or not.

It didn’t take much longer for Josh to finish his toast and to casually suggest for Joe to make his own breakfast. Mentioned that everything on the bottom shelves of the fridge was yours before he walked out, and this morning was just full of surprises.

You split the fridge?!

What kind of sensible flatmate behaviour was this?!

When it was you and Joe, your stuff would just be thrown in wherever. None of it sorted. Joe would end up having your oatmilk in his coffee and you’d end up using his cheese in your omelettes.

Actually, he remembered how this had been the source of bickering for more than once. More than a couple of times. You would fall out over Joe having your food all the time, if he really thought about it. But it was always playful. Always something fun about it. A reason to swear at him until you made yourself laugh, and a reason for him to shut you up with poking fingers in your sides. The back and forth had never prompted you to split the fridge.

Had you and Joe ever been normal flatmates?

Probably not, he guessed.

Joe decided against breakfast in the end and just finished his coffee. Waited until you got back from your morning run, which he still had a hard time wrapping his head around, and when he eventually heard the front door open, he got up to make you a drink.

You knew Joe was still there by his coat that was hung up by the front door.

Fine.

Fine.

It was fine.

You were sweaty and sticky and hot and you could feel your heartbeat in your face, but it was fine.

Walking into the kitchen, you were welcomed by Joe in jeans and a T-shirt, bare feet, hair stupid, already holding out a glass of juice for you.

You took it and refrained from talking as you had a sip. Looked at him over the glass though, and you hoped that what Joe would see was determination. Strength. That he saw someone who wasn’t going to take bullshit, because you weren’t.

You’d just gone for your very first morning run for fuck’s sake.

For a moment Joe just looked right back at you. Watched you have the drink he poured for you. You had bits of hair stuck to your flushed neck and had to breathe through flared nostrils. It was wildly attractive, if you asked him.

“Morning run?”

You caught a small smirk from Joe that you turned away from. Couldn’t look at him be cute when you were supposed to be mad at him still.

Then, in a rogue move, Joe opened the freezer and took a single look inside to find a frozen pizza he took out and tossed onto the counter.

That was meant to mean something.

You gave it a blank stare as Joe looked at you and you sighed.

“Hey,” Joe tried getting your attention back on him, but instead, you put the glass down and turned around. Walked out. Went to your bedroom.

Joe followed.

“Hey,” Joe tried again, stood in your doorway, watching you collect an outfit. “Talk to me.”

It went ignored.

This was the worst part of not having an ensuite; having to take just enough clothes into the bathroom to change in there. You and Josh weren’t exactly on a just-a-towel level yet. Bathrobe felt scandalous too, somehow, even for the five steps it took to get from your bedroom into the bathroom.

Josh could see you in clothes or not see you at all.

Joe easily moved aside when you walked past him, out of your room, and you looked at him as you did.

“Come on. Tell me what you’re thinking.” Joe tried again.

It didn’t feel like you were fully ignoring him, but you weren’t answering him either.

You were thinking Joe was being an idiot.

You were trying, had been trying really hard to meet him where he wanted to be met, and then he just went and let you know he didn’t trust… you? Your flatmate? The situation he’d created with his own two hands?

Felt unfair.

You didn’t say any of that though. Just walked into the bathroom, and then left the door open.

Joe would get the hint, you thought.

He did, but only when you started peeling off your sweat-soaked top with the door wide open, still.

Joe moved quick. Sort of scrambled to get into the bathroom, to lock the door behind him, and then to help you get your top over your head as you struggled with the damp fabric around your shoulders.

You undressed, and Joe helped, and you made eye-contact the whole time.

You could see how he was searching. Trying to find whatever you weren’t saying in your eyes, his chin tucked in, his eyes pleading, all soft and rounded.

Joe tried.

He really tried.

You were getting naked right in front of him, body flushed and glistening with sweat and he got a good look as you stretched your body over the bath to turn the shower on and then you kept staring right at him as you removed more clothes and you were doing something with your eyes and Jesus fucking Christ, Joe was trying.

Trying to not grab you by the shoulders and give you a good shake.

Trying not to let his eyes skirt downward because you’d just removed your sports bra and, oof, man, that was a lot of skin on show.

Joe was trying not to hold you by the face and trying not to get real close and trying not to whisper words into your mouth in hopes of coaxing out some of your own. Which… he failed. Because he did get your face into both his hands just after you’d reached up to untie your hair. He did get real close. And he did ask you once more to just talk to him, please.

You handled the close eye-contact fine.

Handled the cupping of your face fine.

And Joe couldn’t stop searching your face.

Was there truly no budging?

Was this… was this it?

Had he just gone and fucked it all up for himself? Had the big plan behind his move imploded because he couldn’t deal with the fact that you were now… no longer in his flat with him? Joe’s mind tried to make sense of it, but all he could really come up with, was that you probably didn’t even consider the two of you to be together.

You’d never talked about that.

Had never mentioned it.

Hadn’t labeled it.

You were just close flatmates that weren’t actually flatmates anymore, and… and now what?

He just wanted you to talk.

You were just in your underwear now, stood in a small bathroom and Joe ticked off all boxes in his mind: you were alone, check. You were close, check. You were in your safe space, check.

The shower was hot now, slowly filling the room with warm steam and, fuck, if you would just fucking talk.

Joe was about to repeat himself. Was about to say it again. But then he saw it.

Something changed.

Your eyes softened and your mouth tightened as you tried to keep your lips wobbling. As you tried to not let what was living inside of your chest get out. When you started blinking more rapidly as your eyes stung with tears, you also began avoiding eye-contact and, good. This was good. Joe let you go then, and watched as you got out of your last piece of clothing before you stepped into the shower.

You left the shower curtain open, and Joe thought he’d never undressed quite so fast.

You’d never shared a shower before.

Something about it felt really momentous, but you didn’t have the opportunity to think about it for too long. The thought vanished just as quickly as it had crossed your mind, because when Joe stepped into the bath behind you and held you by the shoulders before curling his arms around to hold you close, you decided that, actually, you were going to talk.

“You left,” you started, voice far thinner than you wanted it to be.

“I know.”

“You left and you’re making me feel bad about it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not fair. It’s not my fault you moved out,” you reached up to hold onto Joe’s arm across your front and you felt how your eyebrows knitted together when you softly followed with, “Is it?”

And, fuck.

Something snapped into Joe’s chest.

Something swelled and popped.

He didn’t know what that was, all he knew was that it hurt.

“No!” Joe tightened his arms before he let you go enough to turn around. “No, baby, of course not, is that– do you think I left because of you?”  

You looked at each other, and for a moment, Joe didn’t know if he was looking at shower water or tears that were running down your face.

You gave a small shrug before Joe lifted his hands to your face to wipe at your cheeks. If they were tears, they had no business being there, so he needed them gone.

“I didn’t leave this place because of you. Hey,” you avoided eye-contact, so he grabbed hold of you by the face again where both your of your hands found his wrists. “Look at me. Look– I did not move out because of you, all right?”

Well, he did… but, it was nuanced. He moved out for the both of you. He had to be careful. He couldn’t say the wrong thing and ruin what already felt ruined enough.

You gave a tiny nod that he could feel more than he could see, and you looked so fucking sad, Joe couldn’t help but move in to try and kiss some of it from your face.

He hoped you believed him.

You were naked in a shower together, of which Joe was getting none of the stream, and you were trembling because of things Joe had said and done and all he could think to do was hold you.

So he did.

It was a terrible waste of water, but it felt so incredibly necessary for him to not pull back until you did. Let you take the lead. Curl an arm around your head, the other around your waist, and follow your pace.

Joe felt how you were trying to control your breathing, and, you were right. He wasn’t allowed to be the cause.

He was the reason why you were feeling the way you were feeling and he realised he had been, for a while, probably.

Joe pushed you.

Joe had been pushing you.

He shouldn’t have.

He shouldn’t have left and he shouldn’t have tried with all his might to keep you as close to him as you had been before and he shouldn’t have taken his jealousy out on you and he shouldn’t have repeatedly asked you to talk to him because look! Look what all of it had lead to?

Your lead.

Your time.

Your pace.

No more making you meet him halfway.

Joe was going to wait for you.

He would.

It didn’t fucking matter how long it was going to take you, or if you’d even get there at all. He was going to wait. If that meant actually befriending Josh like a normal person, then he was just going to have to befriend Josh like a normal person.

Joe held you close until your finger tips stopped digging into his skin so much, and then he softly said, “I’ll wait.”

That made you look up at him.

“I’ll wait for you. I can be patient.”

And, you frowned. Because what the fuck was Joe talking about.

“But…” you started, and you felt it then. You could feel whatever was inside of your chest collect every little speck of bravery it could find within your body. It pulled it from the muscles in your legs and from the bones in your arms. Found some hidden inside the beating of your heart and then some more in the humid shower air inside your lungs. And then, it said it.

“I’m right here.”

Joe blinked at you. Didn’t get it.

“I’m right– Joe, what do you mean, you’ll wait. Have we not been– is this not what we’ve been…” you furrowed your brow at how words seemed to escape you. All bravery gone.

Joe saw.

Heard what you were saying and, before you even fucking knew what was happening, Joe had both his arms around your waist and lifted you up, effectively pressing his face right into your tits as he scared the living daylights out of you because you were in the bath.

“Joe–” you shrieked, but were quickly shut up by his mouth that pressed to yours before your feet had even properly touched down again.

“I love you.” Joe squeezed it from his own mouth right into yours. Barely got the words out normal as he didn’t want to stop kissing. Didn’t want to break contact, lips and hands doing the most.

“Joe,” you laughed, giving his shoulders a light push before you felt something against your hip, and– oh.

“No, I’m sorry. Ignore that. I love you. Did you hear me? I love you. I said I love–”

“I love you too.”

Joe froze before he groaned with both eyes squeezed shut, and you looked down to see how hard that had made him.

“I love you too,” you repeated yourself and saw it jump, leaking already, and Jesus, that was quick. This was a fun game actually. Talking suddenly didn’t seem so bad.

“Hey, I love you. Did you hear me? I said I lovemmpf–” Joe got a hand over your mouth just for the sheer agony of what it was doing to him.

You took your shot and bit right into his fingers.

“Stop it, you’ve got to– you can’t–”

And, yea, you could actually. You shut Joe up with kisses of your own this time.

You were sharing your first shower together, and it felt sort of momentous.

It felt momentous because you’d shared words that had been stuck in the back of your throat for a while now.

It felt momentous because Joe just told you that he loved you.

It felt momentous because you said it right back and everything about it felt right.

It felt momentous because you were going to have loud shower sex and Josh was likely going to hear you and you actually didn’t care about it. You cared more about the pizza that was slowly defrosting on the kitchen counter which actually sounded like the perfect breakfast food, if you were being honest.

You and Joe were just flatmates, but not.

Were just close, but more.

Were in love. Had said the words now, for the other to hear with their ears, and wasn’t that a shocking turn of events after last night?

Joe couldn’t explain it if he tried.

Didn’t really want to either.

As long as you knew. As long as you understood.

And you did. The proof was in the pudding.

Something felt alive in Joe’s chest. And in yours too.

Maybe someday, they could meet.

Have a chat.

Talk things through.

Or not.

They could also just look at each other. Sit on the sofa. Curl into each other and eat pizza. Watch the first ten minutes of films before they’d doze off together. Make fun of plants that got overwatered in a desperate attempt to keep them alive because they were buddies with yours and Joe could never be responsible for the death of plants that had friends, were you joking?

They’d call you idiots.

And, yea you were.

But it was fine.

You were just close. In love. Together. And that didn’t need explaining. As long as you knew and understood, that was all that mattered.

You were all that mattered.

Your lead.

Your time.

Your pace.

Your love.

the end

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x reader #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fanfiction #reinvent love #define close #explain us

[polly-pocket13]

Give me a chance to show you how beautiful you are

bakugou katsuki x fem!chubby!reader 

tw: weight, self-doubt, self-hate, eating disorder, cursing, acne, bad english and bad grammar

a/n: just a friendly reminder that you are enough and beautiful just the way you are.

You are standing in front of your mirror and looking at yourself. 

You sighed. 

Your skin is getting worse again.

You gained weight.

Your tights are too thick.

Your belly is too chubby.

Your arms to giggly.

Slowly, your eyes started to tear up.

Why couldn't you be like the other pretty girls?

Those girls with the flat stomachs and clear skin. 

Those girls with beautiful tights and slim arms. 

Those girls who always look and act like a real lady.

Those girls who always seem perfect.

The next day, you started eating less and exercising more.

You began to isolate yourself from others and feel more and more ashamed about yourself.

Like right now, you were in your room again and stood before your mirror and looked at your imperfect body.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?” you suddenly heard Bakugous voice behind you.

You didn't even notice that he knocked or entered your room.

“Bakugou, what are you doing here? Of course, everything is alright.” you told him and forced yourself to smile.

“Y/N, stop fucking lying to me. I can see that something is wrong, and I can see how, you force yourself to smile. I have known you long enough, to recognize a real smile.” he grumbled.

“I don't know what you mean.” you said to him.

“Don't play dumb, Y/N. Please tell me what is wrong.” he spoke to you.

“I am fine.” you lied again. 

You weren't fine at all. 

“Fine? You look to me like the absolute opposite of fine.” he said to you angrily.

You were overwhelmed with emotions.

You slowly started to speak, “Can't you see? I am the problem. How I look. How I act. Everything about me is just imperfect.”

You started to cry again.

“Who the hell told you such a bullshit. Tell me so I can break his nose.” he told you aggressive.

You replied quietly, “Kacchan, just forget it.”

“You don't want me to know? Well, then I will find out myself. It can't be that fucking hard to find an asshole without eyes.” he slightly shouted and wanted to leave your room.

“It was me, okay! I tell my self everyday I am not enough! So if you want to break someone's nose, feel free to break mine.” you said to him. 

He immediately turned himself to you. A second later, you could feel his arms wrapped around you.

Now, you started to cry even more.

He pulled you closer to him.

He whispered in your ear, “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever met in my life.” 

“You only say it because we are friends and I am crying. You don't mean it.” you mumbled.

“Tsk, stupid gorgeous Woman. Why don't you believe me? I would not fall in love with you if you were not the most perfect human being in the world,”

he started tell you.

“I wished you could see yourself through my eyes. Then you would see that you are perfect from the bottom to the top. 

You would see how your eyes sparkle, when you talk about something you love. How you smile makes everyone else smile too.  How you just make everyone else to a better person, especially me. You would see how all stare at you if you dress up in your pretty dresses.  Damn it, Y/N yo drive me crazy every day. Your curves, your beautiful thighs, your soft belly. Just fucking everything.” he ends his “speech”.

You were shocked. You just stared at him for a moment.

“You like me? Like, really like me.” you asked him. 

“Typical Y/N. I told you lots of other important things and you just remembered one. Yes, I like you. Like, really like you.” he answered you. 

“I think I like you too, but I can't see myself through your eyes. I am just imperfect for me.” you told him.

“Give me a chance to show you how beautiful you are. Okay?” he asked you. 

“Okay.” you answered. 

Since that day, he has been proving to you every day how beautiful you are to him. 

And you slowly start to believe him and love yourself as you should because you are truly beautiful just the way you are. 

#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #bnha x you #bnha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #bakugou x reader angst #mha angst #mha bakugou #bnha angst #bakugou katsuki #bnha bakugou #bakugou angst #bakugo fluff

[yamamasjumpercables]

Not Our Time

Cheater!Chris!Sturniolo x Fem!Reader

Warning: Wrist grabbing, cussing and that’s it

a/n: this took a while, hope you guys enjoy it

You were tired of it. The lying, sneaking, yelling, arguing. Everything. You found out Chris has been cheating on you 2 weeks ago. You loved Chris so much that you tried your best to see it through, pretending that it wasn’t true. Last week after you found out You went to confront Chris about the whole situation but, he kept brushing it off. Telling you that it was before you guys knew each other and there was nothing to worry about. You knew better than to trust what he said. Chris knew he couldn’t have his cake and eat it too, but he never felt the need to quit his ways.

Right now You and Chris were currently in his room trying to figure out what went wrong in the relationship. Chris’s phone was in your hand, the messages between Chris and some girl displayed on the screen. Tears were threatening to roll down your face, but you needed to be stern to get through to Chris. “Y/n it’s not what you think” Chris said running his fingers through his hair. “Then what the fuck is it Chris, cause it looks like you cheating on me” You said putting your hands up in defense. “I’m not cheating on you that was a long time ago you are just being delusional” Chris says annoyed. “CHRIS DONT FUCKING LIE TO ME, THIS WAS 10 FUCKING MINUTES AGO ” You say yelling. “YOU ARE DOING TO FUCKING MUCH SHES JUST A FRIEND” Chris says yelling back. “Oh she’s just a friend, I didn’t know friends sends nudes to each other” You said sarcastically. “YOU ARE FUCKING CRAZY Y/N” Chris says yelling at you. “IM CRAZY, YO BITCH ASS CHEATING ON ME WITH A REJECTED VICTORIA SECRET MODEL AND IM CRAZY” You say yelling while getting in Chris’s face. “First of all watch your tone with me, I’m not one of your delusional ass friends who you can talk to like that” Chris says grabbing your wrist. “You are a fucking joke Chris” You say yanking your wrist back from his grip. “So what now you’re gonna break up with me” Chris says crossing his arms. “Yes exactly what I’m gonna do” You say laughing a little. “Wait wait you can’t be seriously willing to end this relationship over this” Chris scoffs getting worried. “Well no it’s not just that, you treat me like shit and act like I don’t mean anything to you so why stay” You say passionately. “Baby, don’t leave me I’ll change” Chris says walking towards you grabbing your hand. “That’s what they all say Chris” You scoff. “I mean it I won’t do it again, I’ll cut everyone off, I’ll treat you better, I’ll give you anything you want, I’ll give you more attention just don’t leave me Y/n” Chris says, voice breaking. “Chris I will always love you, but I can’t sit here and let you treat me like this anymore” You say, a tear rolling down your face. “I can do better I can change for you, I just need time” Chris says putting your hand to his face for your to hold. “I can’t sit and wait for you to be a better person Chris that’s something you have to do on your own, we were right for each other once hopefully we can be right for each other again someday, but it’s just not our time” You say crying. “Y/n please give me another chance” Chris says grabbing your waist pulling you closer to him. “I can’t Chris we have to be apart for a while, until you learn how to respect Me and Yourself” You say rubbing Chris’s face with the pad of your thumb. “I love you Y/n” Chris says as his voice breaks. “I love you too” You say before giving Chris a long passionate kiss. “See you around Chris” You say giving him a final kiss on the cheek and walking out of his room, on your way to start a new life without him. Leaving Chris with his regrets

I haven’t posted anything in a while plus I want to start posting more Chris fics 🧎🏾‍♀️

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo fluff #yamamasjumpercables #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut

[faeridollz]

Virgin reader and older price 🤭🤭

(Not creepily older tho)

Feel free to ignore tho xx

“Such a pretty face <3”

Pairing; older!price x virgin!reader

Cw; price is in late thirties reader is in mid/late twenties ^^

Synopsis; your boyfriend is more than happy to help! But surprise!!! You’re a.. virgin? :(

A/n; kinda long so there’s a divider where nfsw starts!! Also dividers from @rookthornesartistry and @cafekitsune 💋

ˏ ˋ°•*⁀➷ TINDER WAS CERTAINLY NOT A GOOD PLACE TO FIND “LOVE.”

You knew that. But at a party with your friends, you were forced to make an account. “Oh cmon Y/N, you're still single after all this time? You know, Mya found her husband a Tinder, you should download it! You never know, you could find a real hit!” She babbled, and when two more of your friends joined in, you were pure pressured into getting that stupid fucking app.

But.. should you really be that mad? You gained a boyfriend who’s a total dilf minus the kid. It’s pretty nice actually, treated like a princess 24/7 and loved on. You love that he’s older too, he teaches you things.

So when he offers to watch movies with you, who are you to deny? Time with your lovely boyfriend is all you need. Sitting next to him with his hand gently gripping and rubbing your inner thigh. It’s been driving you crazy since this dumb movie started.

“You alright lovie?” He smirks, and you nod. “Yeah.. j-just a bit hot y’know?” Your breathing is heavy, you can’t really focus on the movie. “I understand Lovie.” Grinning, he trailed his thick fingers to your clothed cunt. skirt lifted, providing easy access.

“Wait- price..” you squirm, thighs slamming closed. “What’s wrong?” He freezes. “Price. I’m a virgin..” you’re almost ashamed. You’ve never told him before and you’re saying it now? Ugh, this is so fucking embarrassing. Tearing up a bit

“Hey hey, don’t cry lovie, it’s nothin’ to be ashamed about sweetheart.” He cups your cheek, making you look in his beautiful blue eyes. They make you feel so safe, y’know? Just so calm. And god he’s so soft, husband material but stern when he needs to be. “It’s okay sweetheart, really.”

“Really? You’re not mad or anything?” Your head tilts. “Why would I be mad? That’s absurd lovie.” He chuckled, kissing your cheek. Beard tickling your soft skin. “I dunno, It’s just kinda embarrassing.” You watch as his face falls. “It’s not embarrassing. I was a virgin too once, just like everyone else in the world. So please stop saying it’s embarrassing sweetheart. Because I swear, it’s not.”

He always seems to have a way with his words. It amazes you sometimes. “Tell me you understand sweetheart.” He nods, and you do too. “I understand love. And. I know you said it’s nothing to be ashamed of, but.. Can you uh.. touch me?” You aren’t too shocked when his eyes widen, followed by ‘Are you sure?’ Fuck this is embarrassing.

His finger is thick, it’s expected but you never knew it could feel this good. “Feels good love?” You nod, he wanted to keep watching the movie, but he made sure to keep paying attention to you. Of course, he did. But how the hell did he expect you to pay attention to this movie? What was happening again? Shit.. it’s one finger but it feels so damn good. Curling up on your G-spot, the rope tightening in your stomach, threatening to snap.

“Fuckkk..” you whine, grinding into his hand. Breath quickened when he rubbed on your puffy clit. “I asked a question sweetheart, wouldn’t an answer be nice?” You can almost hear that cocky smile if that was even possible. But it makes you tighten around him, drenching his fingers. “g-good it feels soo~ good” shuddering when he speeds up.

“Ya think another finger would fit?”

“Y-yes- please!” Who knew you could be so whiney? Not you. But price makes you feel so good. And if this is just his finger then what if-

You let out a pathetically loud moan, how the hell did you not notice him putting another one of his thick ass fingers in you? It feels so good though, you. “Bloody hell sweetheart. So fuckin wet right? Feel good?” He nods. Moving slow, then picking up the speed a bit. “M-mhm!” You whine, the rope in your stomach finally snapping and your vision blurring a bit. Coating his fingers in creamy cum. Your cum.

Your gooey walls tighten around his fingers, hand gripping at his arm. “N-Nghhh..” you moan, shuddering as he gently pulls his fingers out of your drenching hole. His fingers were coated in a thin layer of cum. You think you may be hallucinating when he licks his fingers clean. “And tastes fuckin’ magical sweetheart.” He grins, kissing your neck. Your cunt is cold, the wetness attracting the cool air.

“Price.. you’re hard as fuck..” you giggle, his dick making a menacing print in his pants. Was it possible to be that big? You’ve seen it before in the shower and stuff but it was soft then. He’s really a grower.

Safe to say you ended the night with him passionately fucking your puffy cunt. After you followed him to your shared bedroom of course. Whining in his ear as he whispered sweet praises into yours. The prep was good too. Tongue fucking you and rubbing your clit until you were technically brain dead. Giving you time and waiting for the green light to continue. And the aftercare was one of a kind, nothing you shouldn’t expect from a total sweetheart.

He’d set a nice warm bath for you and massage your skin, even if he didn’t fuck you rough at all he’d still take care of you!! :)

I got so carried away ughh!! 😭 but I really liked writing this 😆 reblogs and likes r appreciated!! Also if you too wanna submit an ask I would be more than happy to make you ask come true my love!

#faeridollz #cod x reader #faeridollz asks!! #cod smut #captain john price #price x reader #cod price #captain price #john price #captain johnathan price #faeridollzspeaks💗

[justafewsmallsteps]

Another quick art and ficlet for @kagomes-hanakotobamatsuri ! This one focused on Week 3, Fertility and I used the Yellow Rose (new beginnings) as my inspiration flower. I started writing this while I was pregnant 2 years ago, but didn’t get around to finishing it until now.

Title: Potatoes Word Count: 1113 Rating: T Pairing: Inukag Warnings: Pregnancy

Try as she might, Kagome couldn’t help the uncontrollable (and unreasonable) flood of negative emotions that came with her unfulfilled pregnancy craving.

Wacdonald’s, of all things. Of course she was craving one of the most unobtainable foods possible in Sengoku and one of the easiest to find in her modern Tokyo. 

She didn’t really feel regret at leaving the modern world behind, not with Inuyasha and a life of friends and nature to surround her, and yet… 

Kagome found herself seething in angry tears. Angry at her body, angry at her attitude, angry at life. While she was always an emotional person, this hormone-induced storm was driving her crazy. She felt everything stronger, and no amount of logic or sleep was pulling her out of it because when she really really thought about it, it was all so unfair. She was raging at the world for making her choose between one family and another. The past was her future, and the future was now her past. But why did she have to choose? Why couldn’t she have a child with the love of her life and introduce her baby to her mother and grandfather and brother? Her righteous sorrow and her selfish cravings swirled into an indistinguishable mass of feelings. One second there was joy, another pain, the next irrepressible annoyance. She was guilty that she felt this way, upset as a tantruming toddler over a greasy burger and salty fried potatoes. 

And ultimately she was sad to be so far from her mother. 

Her thoughts turned to her poor husband. 

Inuyasha had been very sweet since she’d gotten back, and her pregnancy ramped up his doting completely. From warming her bath, to fetching her the ripest fruits, to building her the most comfortable approximation of a mattress possible, she felt spoiled and grateful. But her pregnancy-addled brain and hormonal body had her feeling so at odds with her heart. She loved being here. She loved her friends and the family they found in each other. She loved Inuyasha. 

Yet she longed for the crepes at the Shinjuku station mall, ice cream from a stand, steak from the grocery store cooked at home… her mouth was practically a waterfall at the thought. But by far the biggest craving was a Wacdonald’s cheeseburger with extra cheese and a side of fries dipped in ketchup. Make that two sides of fries. She could cry thinking about it, which she knew was stupid. 

It didn’t help that so many things made her feel nauseous. She’d helped out with pregnant mothers before, giving them herbs to help, learning from Kaede the rough timeline. She’d given reassurances and her best empathy, but in the throes of morning sickness Kagome wished to strangle her past naivety—and as much as she adored Kaede, the woman never actually had to go through pregnancy. 

Sango helped the most, understanding her anger, giving practical advice to give her the slightest relief. After all, carrying the twins had been an ordeal.

But Kagome was tired of ginger root and plain rice. 

She was tired in general. It has been such a joy to find out she was pregnant, and the first few weeks were a breeze. Then the morning sickness kicked in and subsequently kicked her ass. Morning sickness. God, it was unending sickness. Any time of the day sickness! She huddled under her blanket, willing the fatigue and nausea away. 

Then Inuyasha emerged from the door with her requested pile of potatoes. His look was apprehensive. He wanted to help her in any way he could, knowing that his wife often repressed cries for her mother. 

“I scrubbed ‘em already, and the pan’s good to go.” 

“Thank you, Inuyasha.” 

“I’ll cut ‘em too. It’s supposed to be like sticks, right?” 

She nodded. “Not too thin though.” Her husband was really good with a knife. She might be envious of his skills if he wasn’t such a good partner. 

Before he could start chopping, she stopped him. “Wait! Maybe cubes are better. They’ll move around the pan more easily.” 

“‘Kay,” he replied easily. 

Kagome stifled a groan as she slowly got up. Inuyasha had set the pan to heat already, so all she had to do was add the oil. 

“This look alright?” Inuyasha asked, checking in with her about the size. 

“Those look good.” 

Something about the sound of him chopping away triggered something. Everything triggered some emotion or another—but the domestic simplicity of their lives came at her full force as she heard the rhythmic sounds of their knife hitting their wooden chopping block. 

“It’s wonderful,” she whimpered, tears gathering in her eyes. 

“Woah, woah!” The hanyou turned around in concern, his hand immediately at her back to try to comfort her.  “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she lifted her head and sobbed, unable to hold it back. “It’s just the hormones, but I do think you’re wonderful. I’m so lucky to have you!” she wailed. 

His entire being was on high alert since she got pregnant, and even though he knew emotional outbursts were bound to happen, he still went into overdrive trying to make sense of it and fix whatever he could. “T-thanks.” 

“Thank you for getting me potatoes so we could try making fries. I’m sorry I’m probably going to hate it or throw it up but it’s the closest thing I have to Wacdonald’s.” She wiped her face with her sleeve and sniffled. 

“I told you, woman, I’ll do anything I can. I’m sorry we don’t got wako’s or whatever here.” 

“I’m being unreasonable.”

“It’s normal. You know it is. I know it is. You shoulda seen Miroku while Sango was having her cravings. Damn near swindled every ingredient from every vendor in every town just to find something she couldn’t remember the name of.” 

Kagome gave a watery laugh. “That makes me feel better.” 

“We’ll make something good, and if you hate it and retch I’ll make you two something else.” 

‘Us two,’ Kagome thought in awe, placing her hand on her belly. “We appreciate you.” She sent him a smile and got on her tiptoes to kiss his jaw. 

“Yeah, yeah. If you’re done, I’m going to go finish cutting now,” he brushed off, trying to hide his blush as he turned around. 

“Okay, but we’re following you,” Kagome declared. As her husband resumed chopping the rest of the potatoes, she wrapped her arms around his middle and rested her cheek against his back. 

“I’m gonna be done in five seconds, you know.” 

“Go slower.” 

Inuyasha rolled his eyes, but the quick beat of the chopping slowed to a different, sweeter ballad, and Kagome hummed contentedly along.

#inuyasha #inukag #kagome higurashi #khm2024 #kagshanakotoba #jelly art #jelly fic #pregnancy #please excuse how often I have typos #I mostly write in short spurts on my phone #same with proof reading #sorryyyy

[stxneflxwers]

overemotional.

cw. for drinking & inebriation, also nudity (but nothing explicit). literally just drunk, overemotional alhaitham. probably deeply OOC. but god. let me dream. lowercase.

inspired by dialogue prompts!

alhaitham - a man that seldom gets drunk - somehow got roped into drinking a little too much with friends tonight. you know he hangs out with his three other long-time friends on occasion, but he always prefers to be home in the end - next to you.

but...

tonight was exceedingly strange once he dragged an also drunk kaveh into his designated room. you're certain kaveh was already passed out by the time the two of them came home. not that it was too unusual for kaveh to get drunk on a rather regular basis.

the strange part is alhaitham's behavior - it felt like he was avoiding you, even after you started stalking him around the house. you haven't seen him drunk before, so this is an entirely new experience.

you followed him into your shared bedroom, and then you heard - what was it? - sniffling coming from him as he shrugged his cape off onto the floor. and then he collapsed onto the plush bed and tore his boots off. you could now clearly see he was tearing up.

"babe..." you mutter, now hesitant to approach him, "are you...okay? what's wrong?" you ask wearily.

he fails to respond as he begins shedding himself of all of his clothes - every last one. you gasp and cover your eyes to preserve a smidge of his modesty and dignity. even if you have seen him naked in the past - it feels wrong to see him in such a drunken state, let alone naked at the same time.

"why are you taking everything off?!" you squeal in surprise.

"because it's hot." he slurs, "and i'm hot."

you giggle. yes, yes you are, you think. you definitely need to be keeping that thought to yourself for now.

"a-at least put your underwear back on, you dork...!" you bemoan.

he sighs and does so, "there." he sniffles some more, and when you unveil your eyes, you see him curled up in a half-nude ball on the bed.

"okay..." you sigh, walking up to him with cautious, silent steps, "seriously. what's wrong?" you brush your fingers along the bone of his broad shoulder.

"you..."

"me...?"

"you're too beautiful for me." he sobs a little before yanking you down into his arms, leaving you in an awkward position against him.

he really is hot - in more ways than one. he's almost sweating.

"i—" you sputter, unsure of how to respond momentarily, "th-thanks, babe... i think you're beautiful too—" he cries more and squeezes you a little too tightly, "oh, oh no, don't cry!" you grab his face and kiss away every tear that trickles.

"you are...beautiful-er." he slurs sleepily.

"pfff—" you resist breaking out into laughter, you've never heard him sound so inelegant with his words - the scribe, of all people. "no, you. i promise."

"no... you." he protests before throwing you around in his arms to the other side of the bed, causing you to unceremoniously flop next to him.

"okay, okay, you win." you roll your eyes, but your voice is filled with nothing short of adoration, "now... i think it's bedtime for a certain someone—"

and just like that - he's out like a light.

he's such a silly boy, but he's at least your silly boy.

#🌠— my works #idk whether to count this as an actual work or just brainrot. whatever #🌠— fluff #alhaitham x reader #💕— alhaitham #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

[canmargesimpson]

Doesn’t anyone else think about poor steve having to live in his house, where he is constantly reminded that he’s a failure. I mean, he graduated and instead of going to college like his parents wanted him to, he just got a mediocre job. I just can’t help but imagen poor Steve arriving home exhausted and his father yelling at him, telling him he has to move out and that he’s just a disappointment for the Harrington name. I imagen Steve keeping a straight face, but then going to his room and just shouting into his pillow, with anger, frustration, and pure rage. I imagine his parents giving him till the end of the year to get out of the house. And even after the starcout fire, his dad wouldn't have mercy on him. While his mother on the other hand, would every month an allowance to help himself to get back on his feet. She would still visit him every now and then, because he was her son after all. She would sometimes invite him for dinner sometimes, but only the times when his father wasn't in town. Steve would be so thankful for his mother, but he was never one to let her know, he was raised in a house where physical touch and emotional conversations were uncharted territory. So instead he would bring her flowers to every dinner and always tried to help out as much as he could.

 When christmas arrived, his mom would obviously invite him, with the grandparents and close family. His father was there but he didn’t even go to greet steve. At dinner, an aunt would ask about what he's doing and how his life has been. He told them about having to work at the Family Video store, and how he worked with his best friend, he told them about how he also helps Holly Wheeler with her homework sometimes, he talked about how, yes it wasen’t the best thing in the world, but he was still happy for his job,and how maybe he was considering singing up for community college in Indianápolis next year. His father, who had a little too much to drink, laughed at him and just teased Steve for his so-called ‘Jobs'. Rebeca, Steve's mom, tried to stop him, but he just kept going.

“Giving out movie tickets isn’t a job! Are you kidding me? And other than that, i bet you spend your time with that queer munson , huh? Apperently he comes oftenly to visit you, doesnt he?”

Steve freezed and he became a dear in headlights. He father kept on going anf going, and no one seemed to dare to stop him. That was until he said it. 

“Maybe you didn’t get into college because you’re such a f*****!”

Rebeca Harrington stood up and slammed on the table, with a loud “enough” and left everyone, dead silent. But the seconds of silences didn’t last long, as Richard stood up and left the scene. And soon followed steve. He got into is car and just drove.

He went to Eddie’s instead of going home.

Eddie was jewish, meaning he really didn’t do the whole “Christmas” thing.  So he knew eddie would be alone and knew that Wayne would work for those who wanted to spend time with family. Steve just went to his trailer and told him everything. Steve always felt comfortable around Eddie, even if he would not admit it to himself. But he just vented. About having to live alone for almost 2 years now, about having the constant fear of being alone, about his father abusing him all of those years before, and about how he couldn't stand looking at her broken mother, who was only trying to get this family back together. He even told Eddie about what his father said infront of everyone. That words he onces used to insults but now the roles were reversed. He told him that he never meant that friendship to go further on, but sometimes couldn't help it. Eddie was just too perfect for him.

Eddie didn’t know how to react. He holds the boy off his dreams in his arms, who is crying and shaking like a child. He just ran his hand through his back and arms, reassuring him that he was okay now and that nothing could hurt him. Even though Eddie was scared too, having Steve next with him made him feel better. So he did what his mom used to do when Eddie was a kid and had a bad night. He took him to his kitchen and got to cooking. This is the only thing Eddie knew how to cook. He opened the freezer and took out a little plastic box filled with frozen berries. He would place them on a little stove and he added sugar and a bit of water. He then mixed it till it was marmalade. Steve who was watching him smiled at his goofiness, and really made him feel better. Then Eddie took out a spoon, filled it with the marmalade and held it in front of Steve, who gladly opened his mouth for the spoon. He ate the whole thing and with an immediate smile he looked at Eddie, who just took a bite with his finger and tasted it.

“A spoonful of sugar, helps the medicine go down in the most delightful way” he said in a british accent like his mom used to do

“Mary poppins?”

“Yeah… it's the only thing I remember from my mom. We would… we would watch mary poppins together, it was her favorite. Every time I cried or even asked for it, she would make this for me. She said that there are only 3 things in the world to cure a broken smile. Sugar, something warm, and the person you most love”

After that, Eddie gave Steve a sleeping edible, gave him one of the many band t-shirts, and another spoon of the warm berry mix he loved so much. Steve went to his bed, and was fast asleep. Eddie instead, he stayed awake reading one of the many books he had. He was right next to Steve, who was snoring softly, which made him laugh. Sleeping Steve somehow made its way to Eddie, and placed his magnificent hair on his chest. Eddie blushed and started playing with it, while he read the stories of Alice in Wonderland.

For the next few weeks, Eddie always went to see Steve, to see how he’s doing and how he’s holding up. Though Steve completely ignored what happened on Christmas, Eddie couldn’t forget it. The sound of Steve's tears really broke his heart, and the fact he was so scared and lived alone, made eddie stay up all night. He had to do something about it. So, in the cold of January, Eddie took his van and drove to the other side of town to see Steve. Even if his van had no warmers, no chains on the wheels, and the roads were covered with snow, Eddie went to see Steve no matter what. Today tho he went up to his loft and opened the door to find Steve with an older woman sitting on the couch.

They all stared at each other, completely lost of what was going on, until Steve cleared his throat and presented it to Eddie, his mother. 

Oh… Eddie turned red. He didn’t actually remember steve saying anything bad about his mom, but he did remember about her and his dad being rude to steve, so eddie just went all out to defend steve… or something like that

“You- you bitch! How dare you let your husband shout at your own son! He is the best person I know, and he has a pure heart of gold! This man is nothing but a gift from god, and you just threw him out of his own house, even if he had no job or anything!?! SHAMEFUL! This man SAVED my Life! He even-”

“Eddie-”

“NO steve! She can’t just show up here, and drink your stupid tea and pretend everything is okay! ITs not okay. You show up at my house that Christmas and I had to hold you till you stopped crying because of what your parents did, and now you invite her in, give her tea… and a gift? Why does she have a gift? Oh…”

Steve stands up with pursed lips and an irritated face

“Eddie, my mom came here to apologize for the christmas accident, im handing her the gifts i didn’t have a chance to give to her”

Eddie looked at the elderly woman and then back at her son, and then back at her. 

“Oh shit… I’M SO SORRY!” he just went to the couch and sat neck to Rebeca, he holded her hand and apologized “I never meant to say you were a b-bitch, i just thought- and i got confused and i was so angry and i thought you- and i- Shit. im so sorry i never really meant anything that i said and-”

“Eddie” Steve smiled as he looked at his friends “Why don't you get a plate of cookies i have in the fridge”

Eddie nodded and ran to the kitchen. Steve placed his hands on his face, sighed, and sat down.

“He seems… energetic” she smiled

“Yeah, Eddie… he’s- he’s hyper and yeah, im sorry, i didn't know he was coming over,”

“It’s okay” she smiled as she stood up and dusted off her skirt “I'm gonna leave, it seems like you 2 boys, need to catch up” 

“Mom-” Steve followed her to the door and before she left she turned around quickly and looked at her son

“He seems like a great guy Steve, He really does care about you” she patted his cheek and left.

“I got the cookies!!” 

Steve turned around to look at Eddie with a bowl filled with cookies and one of them in his mouth like a puppy. Steve repeated his mothers words and just dashed to him, grabbed his face and took the cookie from his mouth as he pecked him. He ate the chocolate cookie, as Eddie's jaw was on the floor, dropping the cookie left in his mouth, and Steve kissed him once more.

#by: me #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie fic

[theetherealbloom]

BUT DADDY I LOVE HIM - CH.4

Chapter 4: ​​Scandal Does Funny Things To Pride, But Brings Lovers Closer

Summary: After harboring a crush on your dad's charming best friend, Joel Miller, you graduate college only to be confused by something he supposedly said to you, but then he and his daughter Sarah, reluctantly move away due to his work. Six months later, Joel returns to town, and you're desperate to confirm if his words were real. Both you and your dad eagerly await his arrival but for entirely different reasons. As feelings intensify, you realize that falling for him might not be temporary after all.

Paring: Dbf!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, AGE-GAP Romance, Reader is Early twenties and Joel is in his late 30s to early 40s, Secret Romance, Sneaking Around, FLUFF, LOTS OF SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, Heavy Make Out Session, Oral Male Receiving, Penetration Kissing, Barely any plot, NOT A SLOW BURN AT ALL, Relationship, Swearing, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, Flattery, Awkward, Virgin reader, inexperienced reader, slightly Self Deprecating, Suggestive Content, Size Kink, Reader is “smaller” than Joel but no further descriptions, Breeding Kink, PWP (wrap it up), Body worship, declaring their love for each other, 

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: I wrote this in two days and I’m lowkey unsure if this all makes sense LMAO. So here we are, at the final chapter… tf am I gonna do now… (*stares at all the unfinished series rewrites*) well… damn. See you at the epilogue. 

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: But Daddy I Love Him by Taylor Swift

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Joel doesn't think you both slept a wink that first week, the two of you creeping around in the dead of night and again in the pre-dawn light. You were over at Joel's place every morning, right after your dad left for work. He still thinks you're in your own bed every night, only helping Joel out part-time during the day.

But in between when he leaves for work and when he gets home for dinner, you're right where you belong – by Joel's side. Or, in most cases, bouncing your fine ass on the end of his thick, throbbing cock until you're screaming his name into a pillow.

It's not as if you haven't tried to tell your dad the truth. Joel has, too. But it cuts him up to keep anything from his oldest friend, especially when he sees your dad on such a high. Telling him the reality of the situation would surely ruin him.

Even though Joel knows it's the right thing to do, the thought of shattering your father's newfound joy and confidence is almost too much to bear. He's seen the way your dad's face lights up when he talks about the success of his business, all thanks to Joel's intervention.

Your dad is even making noise about setting up a workshop on the East Coast, making Joel's original idea sound like his own. But if it makes him happy, Joel's happy. Because of all that, you and Joel made a pact – if your dad asks either of you directly if you're anything more than just friends, you'll tell him the truth. But he's been so busy that neither of you have actually seen much of him at all.

As uneasy as it makes Joel, keeping the both of you a secret just a little longer seems like the easiest way to avoid making waves. Or so Joel thought. It's been two weeks to the day, and Joel doesn't think you or him have ever been happier your whole lives, except for the sneaking around past your dad bit.

But your dad is no dummy. And Joel can see now that he should have just come out with it, long before helping him get his business into first gear. You both guess that you two got lazy.

It happens right after another one of your father's dinners on a Friday night. He's insisted Joel, Tommy, and Sarah come over, and he'll cook for all of you. But come eleven o'clock, when Tommy and Sarah go home, and then midnight, you and Joel are giving each other guarded glances. And your dad takes on the air of a man who has something to say.

"I should probably head to bed," you say, about to excuse yourself, but your dad asks you to sit.

"You don't have to pretend anymore, honey," your dad says calmly, shaking his head and laughing to himself. But it's not a happy laugh – it's a wounded, ironic kind of grimace he wears as his eyes settle on Joel's.

"And you, Joel? I suppose you're beat after spending the day with my daughter 'helping you out' around the house, huh?" your dad says cuttingly, but he regains his composure quickly.

"I guess I have somethin' to tell you," Joel croaks, trying to swallow but feeling his mouth dry as dirt.

"I guess we both have something to tell you," you add, making Joel jump when your hand slips into his, and you rest them both on the table.

Your dad takes in a sharp breath, steadying himself, and Joel has to say, he's being a fucking man about it. "So go ahead," he murmurs.

"Tell me all about it," he says before raising his hand quickly. "No. Don't tell me all about it. I don't need to know the sordid details... Just tell me when all this started, Joel. You too, hon'," he asks, looking over to you, his eyes filling up with tears before either of you even says a word.

"How could you?" he sniffs bitterly, looking every bit as hurt and betrayed as Joel thought he might, but he's not angry. Not angry at all. Just hurt that you two have been fooling around behind his back and keeping secrets.

You feel upset too and lower your head in shame, but Joel, for one, feels better now that he knows. The burden of the lie has been removed, and he's ready to face the consequences, whatever they may be.

Joel takes a deep breath, his hand tightening around yours. "I've been in love with her since the day she graduated," he tells your father, his voice steady and unwavering.

"Things moved quicker than I thought, and it wasn't until we both knew how much we were in love that it meant hurting you if you knew," Joel explains, not making excuses, but trying to help your dad understand.

Your father is silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. "So. You coming all the way out here, for good. All that was just a way to get to her?" he asks, his tone laced with a hint of accusation.

"Don't twist it to make it look like that," Joel retorts, but your dad isn't entirely wrong.

"I meant what I said about helping you, and I still do," Joel reminds him, his voice firm.

"I can give her more than any man half my age, too. Give her a life..." Joel trails off, his words hanging in the air.

The tension in the room is palpable as your dad's anger flares, his words sharp and cutting. "What? Give her a life her father couldn't? She's my fucking daughter, Joel. Who the fuck asked you to help yourself, huh?" he demands, his frustration evident. But you interject, your own voice rising in defense.

"I'm not a kid anymore, Dad. I'm an adult. And I know you've provided for me, always made sure I have everything I need," you assert, your tone firm and unwavering.

"But do you think a woman like me is ever gonna have a guy like Joel just breeze into town, sweep me off my feet, and then let him go?" you challenge defiantly. "Getting eight bucks an hour tutoring part-time and living with my Dad into my old age isn’t the kind of life I had planned for myself."

Joel admires your fire, proud of you for speaking your mind. The air crackles with tension, but at least everyone is having their fair say. Despite the burning bridge, the honesty in the room feels like a weight lifted off your shoulders.

For your dad to take the news without his fists flying, Joel realizes he's matured more gracefully than he would have given him credit for. The pulse of the moment slows, the truth out in the open. No more hiding, but decisions loom ahead that may not be easy.

Your father reflects, a nostalgic air settling around him. "I knew that day of your graduation, sweetheart. And I know you better than you think, Joel," he says, his gaze shifting between the two of you. "I just didn't want to believe it."

"I love her," Joel declares, his voice unwavering. "I'm having his baby, Dad," you begin, the revelation causing a moment of shock between both your dad and Joel, before your laughter breaks the tension.

“You should have seen your faces.” You chuckle a little.

"Honestly, I want to have his kids, Dad. I want us to be together forever. I want to take care of Sarah. House, kids... the whole nine yards," you chime in, relief evident in your voice.

Your father's response is unexpected, a mix of emotions playing across his face. "I know you do, sweetie," he comforts you, a smile creasing his face. "You wanna be the mom you never had. And I guess I just didn't wanna lose the little girl I raised all on my own."

As your father prepares to leave, the moment's weight settles over you all. "I just need time, Joel," he finally says. "Time to get used to all this... Time to get used to not having her around."

The nuclear fallout you both expected never came, not in the way you expected. The night ends with a sense of understanding and acceptance, your father's blessing a silent promise of support and love.

Walking home next door, the weight of the evening hangs heavy in the air. In the quiet of your shared bed, you find solace in Joel's arms, the raw emotion of the moment bringing you closer than ever before. You are crying in his embrace, the tears flowing freely as the tension and relief of the confrontation with your father wash over you.

But it feels just as good to Joel, this shared vulnerability. Sharing the not-so-great times as well as the good times – this is what being with someone is truly all about. The good thing is that you don't have to keep anything secret anymore, and better still, you both have your dad's blessing.

Probably the most important thing for Joel, because without his best friend and the woman he loves, where would he be?

"We good?" you sniffle, rubbing your puffy eyes as you look up at Joel. He lifts your face from his chest, holding you close.

"Oh, we're better than good, darlin'," he smiles back at you. "We're perfect," he tells you, stroking your hair as you lie silent for a long time.

"I love you," you eventually murmur, drifting into a dreamless sleep with a little smile playing on your lips.

"And I love you more," he promises you, kissing your forehead goodnight. He's already waiting for the morning so he can tell you the same again, his heart swelling with the knowledge that you are his, and he is yours, without the need for secrecy or shame.

The weight of the evening has lifted, replaced by a sense of relief and contentment. No longer do you have to tiptoe around, hiding your love and affection. Your father's blessing, though not without its reservations, is a testament to the depth of your connection and the trust he has in Joel to care for you.

As you sleep peacefully in Joel's arms, he can't help but feel a profound sense of gratitude. This woman, this life, is more than he ever dared to dream of. With your father's acceptance, the path ahead is clearer, and Joel is determined to cherish every moment, to build a future that will make you both proud.

As you stir from the depths of slumber, the remnants of a dream linger, tantalizing and vivid. Joel's image flickers in your mind, a hunger burning behind your eyelids, a relentless craving that claws at your senses.

With a slow, drowsy blink, reality floods back, engulfing you in a haze of sensation. Heat coils low in your belly, radiating outward as awareness seeps into every pore. And then you feel it—the intoxicating pressure between your thighs, a languid caress that sends sparks shooting up your spine.

Your gaze drifts downward, heart pounding in your chest as you take in the sight before you. Joel lies beneath the duvet, his form obscured yet unmistakable in the dim light. His rugged features are softened by the shadows, the scruff of his beard grazing your skin like a promise unspoken.

A shiver courses through you as his tongue dances over your slick folds, igniting a firestorm of need that threatens to consume you whole. Your back arches involuntarily, a breathy sigh escaping your lips as pleasure blossoms deep within.

"Joel... fuck..." you moan, the words torn from your throat in a desperate plea for more. His head emerges from beneath the covers, lips glistening with your essence, eyes smoldering with untamed desire.

"You gotta be quiet, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice thick with a southern drawl that sends shivers cascading down your spine. "Might wake the whole house up. Can you do that for me, be a good girl?"

Your heart pounds in your chest, pulse racing as his words wash over you like a wave crashing against the shore. With a nod, you bite down on your lip, a silent promise of compliance as you surrender to the whirlwind of sensation engulfing you.

As Joel's tongue delves deeper, tracing patterns of ecstasy along your sensitive flesh, your senses spiral out of control. Every flick, every swirl sends shockwaves of pleasure cascading through your body, igniting a fierce inferno that threatens to consume you whole.

"Fuck, Joel," you whimper, fingers tangling in the sheets as you surrender to the heady rush of sensation. His touch is electric, setting your nerve endings ablaze with a fervor unlike anything you've ever known.

With a low growl, Joel's lips capture yours in a searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours in a passionate dance of desire. His hands roam over your trembling form, tracing the curves of your body with reverent exploration.

"You taste like heaven, darlin'," he murmurs against your skin, his breath hot against your ear. "Gonna make you scream my name until the whole damn house knows who you belong to."

A shudder wracks your body at his words, desire pooling low in your belly as you succumb to the primal urge driving you both. With a wordless plea, you arch into his touch, craving more of him with every fiber of your being.

Joel's fingers slip between your thighs, finding you slick and ready for him. With a wicked grin, he teases your entrance, circling your clit with agonizing slowness before plunging deep inside you with a single, relentless thrust.

"Fuck, yes," you cry out, the words torn from your lips in a breathless plea for more. Joel's pace quickens, each thrust driving you higher and higher until you're teetering on the edge of oblivion.

In the soft glow of morning light streaming through the window, you find yourself tangled in Joel's embrace, limbs intertwined in a mess of sheets and limbs. His chest rises and falls with each breath, the rhythmic cadence a comforting lullaby as you revel in the aftermath of your shared passion.

With a tender sigh, Joel presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his touch gentle against your feverish skin. "God, you're beautiful," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. "I could spend eternity right here, just like this."

You feel the heat stain your cheeks at his words, warmth flooding your veins at the intensity of his gaze. "I feel the same way," you whisper, fingers tracing lazy patterns over his chest. "Being with you like this... it's like coming home."

Joel's lips curve into a tender smile, his eyes alight with adoration as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. "You're my home, darlin'," he murmurs, his voice a soft rasp that sends shivers dancing down your spine. "And I'll do anything to make sure you feel safe and loved, always."

His words linger in the air, a comforting blanket enveloping you. In Joel's embrace, you discover a sense of peace, a haven amidst life's storms. Here, in this quiet moment, you realize that with Joel beside you, and you're so excited and can't wait to see what happens next.

As the morning sun filtered through the kitchen window, casting a warm glow over the breakfast table, you took a deep breath and shared the news with Sarah and Tommy. The revelation of your relationship with Joel and your decision to stay with them while your dad was away for the week hung in the air, a mix of excitement and nervous anticipation.

Sarah's eyes lit up with joy, her enthusiasm palpable as she practically bounced in her seat, devouring her scrambled eggs with gusto. Tommy, ever the observant one, shot you both a sly look that made your cheeks flush with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal.

You knew you needed to work on being quieter, but it was a challenge when Joel had a way of taking you to heights of pleasure that left you gasping and moaning, unable to contain the sounds of ecstasy that escaped your lips.

The dynamic between the four of you shifted subtly, a new energy crackling in the air as the unspoken tension of your newfound relationship with Joel lingered between bites of toast and sips of coffee. Sarah's infectious excitement was contagious, her chatter filling the room with a sense of camaraderie and shared secrets.

Tommy's knowing glances added a layer of intrigue to the morning, his playful smirk hinting at a deeper understanding of the dynamics at play. You couldn't help but feel a rush of desire at the thought of Joel's touch, his presence a magnetic pull that left you yearning for more, even in the most mundane moments.

As the morning unfolded, the anticipation of the week ahead hung in the air, a mix of uncertainty and excitement swirling around the breakfast table. The unspoken promise of stolen moments and whispered confessions added a layer of tension to the morning routine, turning the mundane into something charged with possibility.

With each passing minute, the weight of your decision to stay with Sarah and Tommy while your dad was away settled over you, a mix of nerves and anticipation building in the pit of your stomach.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the landscape, you found yourself in the midst of a perfect evening with Joel. The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers, and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze created a soothing backdrop to your shared moment.

Joel's hand in yours felt like a perfect fit, his touch sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. The two of you had decided to take a leisurely stroll through the nearby park, the soft grass underfoot adding to the sense of intimacy that enveloped you both.

As you walked side by side, the conversation flowed effortlessly between you, a mix of playful banter and heartfelt confessions that deepened the connection between you. Joel's laughter was like music to your ears, his Texan drawl adding a touch of charm to every word he spoke.

"You know, darlin', I can't get enough of these little moments with you," Joel said, his gaze warm and adoring. "It's like the rest of the world just fades away when I'm with you."

You felt a blush creep across your cheeks, your heart fluttering at his words. "I feel the same way, Joel. Being here with you, it's like everything else just falls away."

The setting sun painted the sky in hues of pink and orange, casting a romantic glow over the scene. You couldn't help but steal glances at Joel, his features bathed in the warm light, his eyes reflecting the beauty of the moment.

As you reached a secluded spot by a tranquil pond, Joel's gaze met yours, a silent understanding passing between you. Without a word, he pulled you into his arms, his touch sending a surge of desire through you. The world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of shared intimacy.

"I can't get enough of you," Joel murmured, his voice low and husky. "Every moment with you feels like a dream."

You melted into his embrace, the heat of his body searing through you. The air crackled with tension, desire simmering just beneath the surface as you lost yourselves in each other.

The soft rustle of the wind in the trees provided a gentle soundtrack to your shared moment, heightening the sense of intimacy between you. In that perfect moment, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the warmth of Joel's touch, you felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over you.

As the evening drew to a close, the stars began to twinkle in the darkening sky, casting a magical spell over the night. With Joel by your side, you felt like anything was possible, the future stretching out before you like a blank canvas waiting to be painted with the colors of your love.

The stars had begun to twinkle in the darkening sky, lending an enchanted quality to the night. As you and Joel continued your leisurely stroll through the park, hand-in-hand, you couldn't help but be filled with a sense of wonder and possibility.

As if reading your thoughts, Joel squeezed your hand gently, his dimpled smile lighting up his features. "What's got you smiling like that, darlin'?" he asked, his affectionate nickname for you causing a flutter in your heart.

"I don't know," you replied honestly. "I just feel so... happy."

Joel's smile widened at your words. "Me too. Being here with you feels like magic."

You walked in comfortable silence for a while, taking in the sights and sounds around you. The chirping of crickets, the rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze, the distant hum of traffic - it all blended together to create a peaceful symphony that added to the romantic atmosphere.

As you reached a small clearing by a pond, Joel guided you towards a bench tucked away under a weeping willow tree. Sitting down beside him, you leaned against his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you.

"This is perfect," he said softly, gazing out at the tranquil water. "Just being here with you under this beautiful sky."

The next few days were a whirlwind of stolen glances and heated touches, the air thick with unspoken desire and anticipation. Every stolen moment with Joel left you breathless, your skin tingling with the promise of what was to come. The thought of your father's imminent return lingered in the back of your mind, but in Joel's arms, the world faded away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of shared intimacy.

One evening, as you stood side by side in the cozy kitchen, the scent of simmering spices filling the air, Joel's presence was a magnetic pull you couldn't resist. Without warning, he pulled you into his arms, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss that left you dizzy with need.

"I've been craving this all day, darlin'," Joel murmured against your lips, his breath hot against your skin.

A soft giggle escaped your lips, your fingers trailing down the strong lines of his jaw. "You certainly know how to make a girl feel special, don't you?"

Joel's eyes gleamed with mischief, a wicked grin playing on his lips. "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea what I have in store for you. I'm just gettin’ started."

Before you could respond, Joel scooped you up in his arms, a playful glint in his eyes as he carried you towards the bedroom. Your heart raced with excitement, your arms wrapping around his neck as he laid you down on the soft sheets, his body pressing against yours in a deliciously intimate embrace.

The room was bathed in a soft, golden light, the air heavy with the promise of passion and desire. Joel's touch ignited a fire within you, his hands roaming your body with a hunger that mirrored your own. Every caress, every kiss, sent a jolt of electricity through you, building the tension between you to a fever pitch.

Joel's breath was hot against your skin, his body moving in time with the rhythm of your own desires. He pulled away for a moment, gazing into your eyes, the only source of light in the room casting shadows across his face. "I love you," he whispered, his voice husky with need.

You couldn't respond, lost in the intensity of the moment. Your heart pounded in your chest, matching the throbbing pulse of desire between your legs. With a low growl, Joel moved his lips to yours once more, his tongue probing your mouth with a fierce hunger.

The sound of your labored breaths, mingling with the low growls of desire that escaped his lips. The air grew heavy with anticipation, charged by the electricity that crackled between you. His fingers traced the sensitive skin at the apex of your thighs, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your veins.

The heat radiating from his body, the primal energy pulsing between you. As he pulled you closer, your muscles tensed in anticipation, every cell in your body yearning for the connection.

His lips met yours in a searing kiss, their tongues dancing together in a frenzied tango of need. You could taste the sweetness of desire on his lips, the tang of salt from your tears of pleasure. His hands roamed your body, exploring every inch of your skin as if committing it to memory.

You couldn't help but feel a thrill of excitement as he spoke those words. You wanted nothing more than to take him into your mouth, venturing into the world of pleasure and sin that awaited you. You opened your mouth, allowing your tongue to dart out and wet your lips in anticipation, his eyes never leaving yours.

He guided his erection towards your mouth, the velvety head brushing against your lips. You opened wider, welcoming his invasion. His eyes darkened, and he groaned as you enveloped the entirety of his shaft in your warm embrace. You began to suck gently, the rhythmic motion of your head creating a wet, slurpy sound as your lips and tongue massaged him.

As he thrust deeper into your mouth, you struggled to breathe, your lungs involuntarily attempting to escape the suffocating embrace of his thick, pulsating member. Yet, you remained steadfast, determined to please him, to satiate his carnal desires.

His animalistic groans echoed in your ears, as though the very walls of the room had begun to quiver in response to his euphoric release. You could feel his veins, now bulging with the ferocity of his climax, vibrate against your sensitive lips and tongue, heightening the already intense sensations coursing through your body.

You could feel his heart pounding wildly, the rhythm syncing with the beats of your own. The room was filled with his scent, musk and sweat, a potent mix that drove you on. Your tongue swirled around his hard length, savoring the taste of him.

His hands gave your head a gentle squeeze, urging you on. His pleasure was your reward, the way his breath hitched and his hips thrust harder. You moved your head in time with his, sucking him deep, keeping a steady rhythm as his release approached.

The sudden tightening of his body spoke of his climax, and you knew you had to continue. Your lips glided up and down his shaft, focusing all your attention on the growing flutters within him.

Finally, he groaned, his release a hot, salty flood that filled your mouth. You swallowed quickly, eager to please him, the taste lingering on your tongue like the first bite of a ripe peach. He pulled away, breathless and flushed, his eyes locked on yours in a silent communion of satisfaction.

“You’re turn, darlin’,” Joel says, his eyes dark and his voice deep as midnight. You feel him grab your hips and begins to devour you, kissing every inch of skin and grabbing your body with an almost primal hunger. The air around you seems to grow thick with desire as you cling to him, your breath catching in your throat. He slides his hands up under your shirt, his fingers tracing the curve of your spine, and you can't help but arch into his touch, moaning softly.

Joel's lips trail down your neck, and you suck in a sharp breath as his teeth gently scrape against your delicate skin. A warm flush spreads across your body, and you feel yourself growing bolder, more willing with each passing moment. He bites down gently, leaving a mark that matches the one he gave you days ago, and you shudder with pleasure.

His lips explore every part of your body, getting closer and closer to your core. You can feel the heat radiating from him, his desire for you palpable in his every touch. The pace quickens as he takes your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently, a possession claim of sorts. Your breath hitches, your heart pounding in your chest, every nerve ending tingling with anticipation.

His hands, strong and calloused, graze the soft skin at the nape of your neck, expertly unfastening the delicate clasp of your dress. It falls to the ground, pooling around your ankles, leaving you exposed in just a lace-edged bra and matching underwear. 

Simultaneously, his hands slide beneath your underwear, his fingers exploring, tracing patterns and leaving trails of fire on your skin. He pauses, his eyes locking with yours, his gaze fierce and unyielding. In that moment, you feel a connection, a bond that transcends physical desire. It's more than just lust; it's passion, raw and unbridled.

The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, skin against skin, and moans of pleasure, creating a symphony of desire that drowns out any other noise.

The air is heavy with the scent of sweat and musk, a heady mixture that serves to heighten the sensual atmosphere. The lingering scent of scented candles adds a touch of sweetness to the mix.

You can't take it anymore. The anticipation, the desire, it's all too much. Your body is on fire, begging for release. And Joel knows it.

"Fuck, Joel, please," you whine, your hips grinding against his in desperation.

He chuckles darkly, his lips grazing against your neck. "Alright, baby," he murmurs, and before you know it, he has entered you.

His cock slides into your weeping hole with ease; you're slick and wet from both arousal and anticipation. You gasp at the feeling of him filling you up completely, every inch of him stretching you in all the right ways.

Joel's movements are slow and deliberate at first, as if savoring every moment. But soon enough, the pace quickens as he pounds into you with a primal need. 

Your bodies move together in perfect harmony, each thrust sending shivers of pleasure through you.

Moans and gasps escape your lips uncontrollably as Joel hits all the right spots within you. Every touch feels like electricity coursing through your veins; every kiss like a fire burning between you two.

Your fingers grip onto his back desperately as he brings you closer to the edge. Your moans become louder and more frantic as your body tenses with impending release.

With one final thrust, Joel pushes both of you over the edge into pure ecstasy. Your bodies tremble together as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. You cling onto each other tightly as powerful orgasms rock through your bodies.

As you come down from your high, Joel pulls out of you gently and collapses beside you on the bed. Your breathing is heavy and labored as both of your hearts beat in sync.

Joel pulls a blanket over both of your naked bodies before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close to him. You snuggle into his chest contentedly, feeling more satisfied and loved than you ever have before.

The sunlight streams in through the window, casting a warm glow over your tangled bodies. You stir, slowly coming to consciousness as the events of last night flood back to you.

Your eyes flutter open and you find yourself staring into Joel's deep brown gaze. He smiles at you, his fingers still tracing soothing patterns on your skin.

"I love you," he says, his words soft and sincere. 

The sound of his voice is filled with love and emotion, sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

You smile and snuggle closer to him, basking in the warmth of his love. It's a feeling like no other, one that fills you with happiness and contentment.

As you lay there together in peaceful silence, memories of how the two of you came to be fill your mind. And it was the best decision either of you had ever made.

"I can't imagine my life without you," Joel whispers, breaking the silence between you two.

Tears prick at your eyes at his words. You feel overwhelmed with emotion - gratefulness for having someone like him in your life and overwhelming love for him.

"I feel the same way," you reply honestly, turning to look into his eyes once again. "I never want to lose you."

Joel leans in and kisses you gently, sealing his promise with actions rather than words. And as your lips move against each other's in a sweet embrace, all doubts fade away.

This is real and true love; a connection that goes beyond physical attraction or fleeting emotions.

It was a connection that defied reason and logic, a force that could not be contained or explained. It was a love that knew no boundaries and bloomed in every corner of their being, the sweetest melody that echoed in their hearts with every beat.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader series #joel miller x reader tlou #joel miller x original character #joel miller series #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel the last of us #joel x reader #joel x you #joel x y/n #joel tlou #the last of us hbo #the last of us rewrite #the last of us

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 22

chapter 38:

1. “"Right, so, your stylist?" Marlene asks, settling in as they continue to sway. "The one who looks like a fucking goddess? Yeah, so get this, she says we're friends…"”

james and marlene gossip sesh <3333333

2. 😧 MCGONNAGAL??????????

3. wait i think mcgonnagal is good. i’m pretty sure she’s from the phoenix. i’m not sure. i’m hopeful. i’m so hopeful

4. aww huey is kinda sweet. i like that’s he’s reg’s breath of fresh air when it comes to talking to the hallows

5. reg, i understand your anger, but please don’t make one of the only good sponsors feel bad

6. jealous james >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

7. “"I like your tea," James offers. "Maybe I'm biased, but it tastes better than anyone else's. What do you do to it?"

Regulus hums and lightly says, "I spit in it."

Without missing a beat, James replies, "Ah, that explains it."”

😭😭😭😭😭

8. “"Would you—" Regulus chokes on another relentless giggle, gasping a little. "Wait, would you actually drink my tea if I spit in it, James?"

"Love, I would let you spit directly into my mouth," James announces with absolutely no shame in his tone whatsoever.”

😭😭😭😭 james i love you

9. awww i love that barty is the most consistent part of reg’s life. i love barty

10. 😬 riddle is unconvinced in their love story. i- yikes

11. okay, right, mcgonnagal is good. thank god

12. dorcas wants to keep marlene out of the war, but only one of them has had a pov so far, so i’m not hopeful

13. oh shit marlene sounds hot

14. also, to add in, i’m so fucking glad there’s like no homophobia (that we know of) in this world

15. i do NOT want dorlene to be a tragedy in this universe

16. 😟 she gave back the ring. AHHHH

17. oh no. shit shit shit shit shit what did riddle do

18. “Riddle didn't even grant the liberty of leaving bodies behind for them to bury.” 😟😧

(but also, orion and walburga were dicks, so like, i’m not sad, just scared)

chapter 39:

1. aww regulus finally invites james in for tea

2. “On the day he accidentally kills a bee while tending to his flowers, he goes through the five stages of grief in less than an hour, which has nothing to do with the bee and everything to do with Vanity.” STOP! THE VANITY MENTION HURTS TOO MUCH

3. “When Regulus wants more time with him, he adds bagels, which James has now unconsciously been Pavloved into thinking of as his favorite food for that very reason.” STOP THATS SO GAY

4. sirius being dramatic about james and reg liking each other is TOP TIER in this fic, in the most realistic, aggravated, obnoxious, and completely loving way

5. BWAHAHAHHAHA JAMES GETTING A PIGGY BACK RIDE FROM SIRIUS IS GOLD

6. oh shit, (i’m not the best comprehensive reader, but i should have figured this out sooner), but from sirius’ perspective, he has to do the back and forth with remus his whole life. he doesn’t have the knowledge that i do, that a war is coming and they’ll finally get a chance to live together. he thinks he only gets to see remus once a year for two weeks at a time. this- this shit is heartbreaking yall

7. “”I watched him stand to his feet and tip himself into a river of blood in an act so tender that I'll never again be able to look at him with anything less than pure love. Every other member of the Black family, including you, fought and clawed their way home to their family, oftentimes to a family that never truly made them feel loved at all. Regulus? He fought and clawed through that arena, the entire time, for James. He's far more gentle than anyone gives him credit for."”

y’all, i’m crying over this. this is so lovely. effie is right, and i’m crying over how right she is

8. 😒 i know what’s coming. riddles a bitch. a right bitch. he’s gonna announce that previous victors are competing and i’m PISSED

9. so far, all three potters offered reggie food. they’re so hospitable, i love them

10. “He hasn't forgotten what it is to long for James. He still knows what it is to want him so badly that he'd be willing to kneel at the altar of James Potter and beg; he'd drop down on his hands and knees and crawl if that's what it took, if that would prove his devotion. He is the manifestation of longing built up with nowhere to go, and he craves, he yearns, he covets.”

both of them are so down bad

11. omg reg is so horny. his inner monologue is literally only like “”””“rip my clothes off please, read my mind and rip my clothes off”””””

12.AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH I KNEW IT WAS COMING! BUT IM SO MAD!!! FUCK RIDDLE

13. effie is a queen. she is a godsend. and i’m so upset right now

14. not effie making them promise not to volunteer, and immediately james and sirius arguing over who’s gonna volunteer for her

15. i’m seething. i’m pissed beyond belief. i’m so angry it’s indescribable. my babies are going back into that arena. honestly, fuck riddle

#marauders #regulus black #james potter #fanfic #jegulus #sirius black #effie potter #euphemia potter #sunseeker #starchaser #dorcas x marlene #dorcas meadowes #marlene mckinnon #crimson rivers

[anonymouse5]

could you do a james potter X misophonia!reader

i have misophonia and have been struggling recently due to it,

if your not sure on what it is it’s where certain sounds trigger you, for example eating or pens tapping. Maybe a fic where he comfort her, normally when i’m triggered i either end up crying and walking away form the situation or i flip out at whoever is triggering me

ITS okay if not !! THANKYOU BBY

hey, sorry this took me so long to get to! writing this was an interesting experience. not sure if i want to do reader fics often but i'm not fully opposed to them either? anyway, i hope this brings you some comfort and is accurate(ish?) to your experience :)) sending lots of love <3

(feel free to send more requests if you like this!) (also feel free to send feedback!)

here you go:

Hogwarts had been busier than usual today. If you had been at home, maybe you would’ve just slipped on some noise cancelling headphones. But that isn’t really an option here, so you deal with it the best you can, hiding it out in your dorm on most days. Again, not an option today. You had way too many classes and clubs to go to. In the few minutes between, you go to the library. It literally has to be quiet there, right?

Of course, this is the one day James Potter and his friends finally decide to study (for once in their lives). You’re friends with Remus, and he seems alright. James— well, you try not to think too much about James. Thankfully, they aren’t making much noise, probably already having gotten a warning from Madam Pince.

It’s alright for a few minutes. But then you hear someone’s wand—

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You look over to the boys’ table. James, looking extremely focused, is tapping his wand on the edge of the table. He does look really busy. Maybe he’ll quit in a minute.

Nope. It just gets worse.

You feel a pressure in your head every time he taps his wand until it gets overwhelming. And then you snap.

“James, would you stop that?” you whisper-shout at him.

But you know it’s useless. You can’t study anymore anyway; you’re too overwhelmed. You pack your things and leave. You don’t notice James following after you until you’re outside the library and hear him shout after you.

“Wait,” he calls.

Despite yourself, you turn to him.

“Did I do something wrong?” James asks.

You bite back your immediate “yes”.

“The tapping was bothering me. It’s not your fault, though. I just—” you trail off, afraid he’ll laugh at you.

He’s got this weird look on his face, like he might.

“Remus hates it when I ‘chew loudly’,” James says. “Is it like that?”

“I guess? Listen, James, I just really want to be left alone right now.” You sigh.

“Ok, but before you leave— I think I might have a spell for you. We can go somewhere quieter?” James offers.

Reluctantly, you agree. James takes you to a spot on the Hogwarts grounds you haven’t seen yet. It’s a nice spot beneath a tree, with just bare grass and flowers blooming. You both sit down, and James points his wand at you.

“Woah, what’re you doing?” you shout.

“Just trust me,” James says.

You almost point out the obvious dangers of pointing a wand at someone’s head, but James seems so sincere and like maybe he’s done this before, so you let him.

He mumbles a spell and waves his wand in an unfamiliar pattern. Suddenly, it feels like your wearing your favorite noise-cancelling headphones, but so much better. You can’t even hear the light buzzing that you normally do.

“You have to teach me this spell,” you say enthusiastically.

The spell makes it a whisper to you, but the way James scrunches up his face tells you that maybe you were a bit loud.

“It worked then?” he asks.

You give him a thumbs up.

He takes out a piece of parchment and a quill and writes something down:

You know, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while. Go to Hogsmeade with me next weekend?

There’s two checkboxes underneath: yes or YES

You smile and check the YES box, adding a smiley face next to it.

The two of you sit at the peaceful spot until the sun starts to go down. You start to come with him here often, and he teaches you the spell right after your Hogsmeade date.

#marauders era #the marauders #james potter #james potter x reader #marauders fic